Emerging markets are finished now. There's going to be growth in Europe or something. That's what Reuters reckons. What, you don't believe me? Go and have a look for yourself then.
"The emerging market story has got a long, long way to go ... (but) in the short term, some of the valuations might be a little bit generous. With the prospects of recovery in Europe, it's going to be less of a short-term theme," a London-based fund manager, who declined to be identified, said.
Who is this know-it-all bastard who declined to be identified? Giving his opinion to all and sundry while standing in the shadows waiting for death to take him away from all the pain and the misery refusing to step out of the shadows into the light where we can see his face.
It is going to be one of those days.
It's cold and it's grey in London. My heart, that is. And the weather. My heart is cold. My heart is grey. What’s the weather like in China or India or Brazil? Why should I care? I'm stuck here. Brentford is only a few miles away. Julius Caesar fought a battle there. (Two thousand years ago, of course, not recently.) It's comforting to think that one of my heroes has been so close to me. He could have popped in for a cup of tea and some biscuits, if I had been alive two thousand years ago. Another missed opportunity. Never mind. I could always go looking for him on the astral plane. I think I will, later. After this ... work.
Oh God. I can't go on like this.
"The emerging market story has got a long, long way to go ... (but) in the short term, some of the valuations might be a little bit generous. With the prospects of recovery in Europe, it's going to be less of a short-term theme," a London-based fund manager, who declined to be identified, said.
Who is this know-it-all bastard who declined to be identified? Giving his opinion to all and sundry while standing in the shadows waiting for death to take him away from all the pain and the misery refusing to step out of the shadows into the light where we can see his face.
It is going to be one of those days.
It's cold and it's grey in London. My heart, that is. And the weather. My heart is cold. My heart is grey. What’s the weather like in China or India or Brazil? Why should I care? I'm stuck here. Brentford is only a few miles away. Julius Caesar fought a battle there. (Two thousand years ago, of course, not recently.) It's comforting to think that one of my heroes has been so close to me. He could have popped in for a cup of tea and some biscuits, if I had been alive two thousand years ago. Another missed opportunity. Never mind. I could always go looking for him on the astral plane. I think I will, later. After this ... work.
Oh God. I can't go on like this.
