Friday 12 June 2009

Damon Buffini: searching for fresh deals

Yeah, and I don't blame him. Damon Buffini ain't gonna be no chairman of no Permira no more, man. You know, the private equity group. But don't get upset. He ain't leaving. Well, at least, not physically. He's not physically leaving. But his soul, man, his spirit, is going to be flying high in the friendly astral sky - we're basically talking about the desert here; and he's going to be searching for fresh deals. And that's the way it should be. Because every man has a breaking point. You and I have. Damon don't wanna be going into the office no more (though he may send his bodily form). He wants to soar like an eagle. He wants to find his freedom.

O Master, have you spoken with Damon?

Yeah.

And what did he say?

Check this shit, my child –

'Michael, man, I'm leaving for the desert. I gonna have me a wild time. Drop some peyote. You dig me, baby? I know you dig, man. You're an animal for that shit. And I'll be looking for fresh deals. Some newspaper says I'm all committed to restoring my company's lost lustre. Well, those commie freaks ain't wrong. That's exactly what I plan to do. But in the desert! Out there, man! Alone, but not afraid. (You'll have a few ghosts for company, Damon.) You reckon, Mikey? (I'll fucking arrange it, mate. Don't worry about that.) I would appreciate that, man. It would be nice to have some company. It would be nice to hear some voices floating on the desert wind, you dig? (Oh yeah. I know all about voices.) How many voices you got on that blog of yours, Mike? (Too many. I don't know whether to use bold or italic or what kind of style for them.) Man, I wish I had your problems. I wish I had all those voices in my head. But I guess I will, soon. The mystical life! That's the life for me. By the way, how's your golden-haired angel? (It's early days yet.) You know, Mike, when a man loves a woman, he can't keep his mind on nothing else, and, nine times out of ten, he'll trade the world for the good thing he's found. (I'll bear that in mind, Damon.) Stay lucky, Mike.'

What a man!

Damn straight.