In talks, with me, it reckons. Please, you must understand, this: I AM NOT IN TALKS WITH HARBOR DRIVE ASSET MANAGEMENT. I don't want to be its strategic partner. However, the hedge fund's founders - [Mikey Vaughn, Billy Ullman] - keep pestering me, with their awful, sickening words, in my wild enough, already, aching head. If only I could have a blackout! I try my best to ignore them but they are so incredibly persistent. They are like two big bumblebees, buzzing all day and all night. If you were to look into my eyes, dear reader, you would see them, I'm sure.
Strategic partner? Oh - ha, and hoo! Harbor Drive is looking for investors as well. Presently, it has $20 million in assets under management, which is nothing, really, when you think on, and on, and on, seriously, hardly. It's just pathetic chump change. But it wants $2 billion! I guess these two hedgies, this ... Vaughn, and this ... Ullman, are buzzing in a lot of people's heads / right now, trying to get that money. I wish them all the luck in the world. [I beg you: leave me alone!] I have no idea how soft it can be. I would like to imagine. Maybe I will, if I get a spare year or two, later on today, or maybe ... tomorrow, if it comes, like all the others.
I'm not in the mood for writing. Nothing's flowing. I keep thinking about St Ives. It's that time of year again. I can't afford it though. Well, I can take a holiday or I can buy a Tascam.
I once wrote a three-act play about St Ives, in the style of Noel Coward. It was called St Ives. What a great title! I wrote it in five weeks because Michael Codron wanted to read it. But it was rubbish. Nonsense from another life. I'm glad that's all over and done with. I hate the fucking theatre.
Strategic partner? Oh - ha, and hoo! Harbor Drive is looking for investors as well. Presently, it has $20 million in assets under management, which is nothing, really, when you think on, and on, and on, seriously, hardly. It's just pathetic chump change. But it wants $2 billion! I guess these two hedgies, this ... Vaughn, and this ... Ullman, are buzzing in a lot of people's heads / right now, trying to get that money. I wish them all the luck in the world. [I beg you: leave me alone!] I have no idea how soft it can be. I would like to imagine. Maybe I will, if I get a spare year or two, later on today, or maybe ... tomorrow, if it comes, like all the others.
_________________________
I'm not in the mood for writing. Nothing's flowing. I keep thinking about St Ives. It's that time of year again. I can't afford it though. Well, I can take a holiday or I can buy a Tascam.
I once wrote a three-act play about St Ives, in the style of Noel Coward. It was called St Ives. What a great title! I wrote it in five weeks because Michael Codron wanted to read it. But it was rubbish. Nonsense from another life. I'm glad that's all over and done with. I hate the fucking theatre.
Update: I am going to Cornwall, next week. And I’ll get the Tascam, too. Sod it! You only live once.
