Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Lloyd Blankfein wants me to hurt Greg Smith

Yeah, hurt Greg Smith, oh, hurt him real bad. I keep telling Lloyd that I ain't like that no more. It means nothing to Lloyd. He wants to see Greg in pain. And he wants me to be the one.

As you have no doubt guessed, Lloyd has been on the phone to me again. He doesn't seem to understand that I stopped working for him ages ago. Well, anyway, this is what was spoken between us: 'Mikey, you know I've got a sense of humour, don't ya? (Lloyd, are you phoning about that goddamn commie?) Greg Smith? Yeah, Greg Smith. What else would I be phoning about? Have you read what this f**king mook has written in the New York Times? I want you to hit this guy, Mike, with everything! Hit him hard. Get your f**king spell book out, your book of curses, whatever. Really do a job on him. Then I want you to deal with those c**ks**kers over at the New York Times. Old Gray Lady? I'll f**k her in the ass, Old Gray Lady - or you will. (Lloyd, calm down, man. People will see this for what it is: a bitter ex-employee trying to get revenge, trying to be the big man in the media. I mean, what's the deal with this loser? Didn't you give him enough hugs?) He said I ain't got no morals. My God! Do you know how that hurts a guy like me, Mike? I've devoted my life to - (It cuts you like a knife?) F**kin' A it cuts me like a knife! I've lived my life with morals coming out of my ears. But does this mean I shouldn't like, no, no, LOVE money? And this is America, for Christ's sake! It ain't Cuba! (I understand, Lloyd.) Listen, he's in London, you're in London. Can't you do something, for an old friend? (I don't know.) Be like old times. Let's do this. Hell, I'll fly over with Viniar, if you like. We can do it together, the three of us. (Like the old days?) Yeah, man. Come on. (It's tempting.) I know you're getting excited just thinking about it.'

That was an hour ago. I told him it would be too messy, the three of us. He still wants me to handle it though. I can't say what I'm going to do. I hope my angel doesn't read this. I do miss it, you know, the action. But I promised her. Shit!