I have been speaking to my dear friend Loic Albert Antoine Montserret (I love this friggin' guy), and he has been telling me all about his troubles with the FSA. This is what the crazy cat said:
'Mike, what have I done wrong? Why have these FSA freaks banned me, man? (They said you had been overpricing your trading positions.) And is that such a terrible crime? I'm a mystical capitalist, man. You know this. I'll take to the astral plane with any of these FSA motherfuckers. I'm trying to earn an honest crust over here. What the hell is going on? (Loic, mate, it's a sign of the times. There are too many communists around. They don't want us doing anything.) And those cocksuckers in the European Union! (Oh mate, tell me about it.) All these new stupid regulations for hedge funds! (Loic, they're nuts!) I would love to get these fucks in the desert. (You and me both.) Burn them to a fucking crisp, Mike. (Set the fucking ghosts on them, Loic.) Yes, the ghosts of the dead financiers sure know how to kick ass. (And Big Herb would tear them a new one.) Fuckin' A, Mike. (Ganesh would just smack them with his trunk.) Fuckin' A, Mike. Smack them down to Chinatown.'
By the way, Loic has got to pay a fine of £35,000. Outrageous! But I'm having a whip-round in the world of spirit. We'll get the money for him. We look after our own.