Oh, you've got to laugh. I missed this last week, but you've still got to laugh. Why is the SEC calling him "Miami Man"? I mean, Luis Felipe Perez. Does he model himself on Tony Montana? Why doesn't the SEC just call him "Scarface"? Go the whole hog, as it were.
'Perez created an aura of success around him to lure old and new acquaintances into investing substantial sums of money,' said John C. Mattimore, Associate Regional Director of the SEC's Miami Regional Office. 'Behind the luster of diamonds and jewelry, Perez told outright lies and made promises he couldn't possibly keep.' It was a $40 million Ponzi scheme, apparently. More here.
Well, I have been speaking to Mr Perez on the astral plane. This is how it went: '(What do you call yourself?) Luis Felipe Perez. And you, what you call yourself? (Michael Fowke. The world's foremost financial shaman. Where'd you learn financial shamanism, Luis?) In Arthur Simmons' college. And my father, he was from the desert. Just like you, you know? He was a shaman. He used to take me a lot to the astral plane. I learned. I watch the ghosts. They teach me to burn. I like those guys. I always know one day I'm coming here to stay, astral desert. (So where's your old man now?) He dead. He die. Sometime. Somewhere. (Mother?) She dead, too. (What kind of work you do in the desert?) You know, things. I am, this, that. Pawn shop business. (Any family in the desert? Cousins, brother-in-law, anyone?) Nobody. Everybody's dead. (You ever been to the lower levels of the astral plane, Luis?) Me? With Jack and Satan? No way, no. (Been in a mental hospital?) Yeah. In that college. (What about homosexuality, Luis? You like men? You like to dress up like a woman?) What is wrong with you, man? You kidding me or what? (Just answer the questions, Luis.) Okay. No. Fuck, no! (Arrested for necromancy? Peyote?) Never, man. (Where'd you get the beauty scar, tough guy? Eating pussy?) How am I gonna get a scar like that eating pussy? This was when I was a kid, you know? You should see the other kid. You can't recognize him. (And this?) What? That's nothing. That's for my sweetheart. (Sweetheart, my ass! I've been seeing more and more of these. Some kind of code you guys use on the lower levels. Pitchfork means an assassin or something. You want to tell me about it, or you want to take a trip to the Shadowlands?) Okay, you got me. I was on the lower levels one time. Burning dollars to ashes. Big deal. (That's pretty funny, Luis.) That's true. It was a Canadian money mystic. (Did you mug him first? Get out of here!) Come on! So I fuck up! Let me talk to you. Please! Let me talk to you a minute. You a communist? How'd you like it? They tell you all the time what to do, what to think, what to feel. Do you want to be like a sheep? Like all those other people? (I don't have to listen to this!) You wanna work, eight, ten fucking hours? You own nothing, you got nothing! Do you want a chivato on every corner watching everything you do? Everything you say, man? You know I eat octopus three times a day? I got fucking octopus coming out of my ears. I got fucking Russian shoes my feet's coming through. How'd you like that? I'm no fucking criminal, man. I'm no puta or thief. And I want my fucking astral rights, now!'
Okay, so Luis has spent some time on the lower levels with Jack Pickles, but he's a decent man. I believe his heart is in the right place. I'm going to put in a good word for him with Big Herb.
'Perez created an aura of success around him to lure old and new acquaintances into investing substantial sums of money,' said John C. Mattimore, Associate Regional Director of the SEC's Miami Regional Office. 'Behind the luster of diamonds and jewelry, Perez told outright lies and made promises he couldn't possibly keep.' It was a $40 million Ponzi scheme, apparently. More here.
Well, I have been speaking to Mr Perez on the astral plane. This is how it went: '(What do you call yourself?) Luis Felipe Perez. And you, what you call yourself? (Michael Fowke. The world's foremost financial shaman. Where'd you learn financial shamanism, Luis?) In Arthur Simmons' college. And my father, he was from the desert. Just like you, you know? He was a shaman. He used to take me a lot to the astral plane. I learned. I watch the ghosts. They teach me to burn. I like those guys. I always know one day I'm coming here to stay, astral desert. (So where's your old man now?) He dead. He die. Sometime. Somewhere. (Mother?) She dead, too. (What kind of work you do in the desert?) You know, things. I am, this, that. Pawn shop business. (Any family in the desert? Cousins, brother-in-law, anyone?) Nobody. Everybody's dead. (You ever been to the lower levels of the astral plane, Luis?) Me? With Jack and Satan? No way, no. (Been in a mental hospital?) Yeah. In that college. (What about homosexuality, Luis? You like men? You like to dress up like a woman?) What is wrong with you, man? You kidding me or what? (Just answer the questions, Luis.) Okay. No. Fuck, no! (Arrested for necromancy? Peyote?) Never, man. (Where'd you get the beauty scar, tough guy? Eating pussy?) How am I gonna get a scar like that eating pussy? This was when I was a kid, you know? You should see the other kid. You can't recognize him. (And this?) What? That's nothing. That's for my sweetheart. (Sweetheart, my ass! I've been seeing more and more of these. Some kind of code you guys use on the lower levels. Pitchfork means an assassin or something. You want to tell me about it, or you want to take a trip to the Shadowlands?) Okay, you got me. I was on the lower levels one time. Burning dollars to ashes. Big deal. (That's pretty funny, Luis.) That's true. It was a Canadian money mystic. (Did you mug him first? Get out of here!) Come on! So I fuck up! Let me talk to you. Please! Let me talk to you a minute. You a communist? How'd you like it? They tell you all the time what to do, what to think, what to feel. Do you want to be like a sheep? Like all those other people? (I don't have to listen to this!) You wanna work, eight, ten fucking hours? You own nothing, you got nothing! Do you want a chivato on every corner watching everything you do? Everything you say, man? You know I eat octopus three times a day? I got fucking octopus coming out of my ears. I got fucking Russian shoes my feet's coming through. How'd you like that? I'm no fucking criminal, man. I'm no puta or thief. And I want my fucking astral rights, now!'
Okay, so Luis has spent some time on the lower levels with Jack Pickles, but he's a decent man. I believe his heart is in the right place. I'm going to put in a good word for him with Big Herb.
