Oh, I hate it when this happens! Taylor Woods is closing its Master fund at the end of the month because it has $1.3 billion now and doesn't want any more.
George Taylor is running the show, of course. Apparently, he made his name with natural gas at Credit Suisse. It must have been very difficult for the poor sods who had to sit next to him. Some people have no consideration.
It's still sunny. I want to be OUTSIDE. God knows what sort of summer we're going to get this year. Make the most of these days, guys.
Music? I'm listening to Exile on Main St. (or Street - ?) I bet George Taylor is working hard in the States, dealing with investors trying to get in at the last minute.
I'm working, too. I'm writing this, making slow progress. One day I'll be free. I mean, I'll get myself free. One day you won't see me for dust, stardust.
Why doesn't George want any more money? Is $1.3 billion really enough? How much is enough? I get the feeling that George is a confused man.
I'll probably put Gilly Marie on my demo, in third place. I ain't got the time or energy to write loads of songs. Some great piano on Exile. I was always better on piano. I only have my guitar at the moment.
I wonder what sort of music George likes. And I wonder what he does when he's not working. 'Emptiness?' Yeah. The nights in front of the TV with cans of beer. I'm sure there's a lot of pain there.
Hot Rocks. Is time on my side? All depends on whom you compare me to. (Don't compare me to Shirley Temple!) Colonel Sanders was sixty-five before he took to that lonesome highway, trying to get someone interested in his chicken recipe.
If George Taylor was a man of ambition, wouldn't he want more than $1.3 billion for his Master fund? Maybe he's a poet. Or maybe he has got religion.
Closing. Oh, but they all do it! They let go. They lose the hunger.
George Taylor is running the show, of course. Apparently, he made his name with natural gas at Credit Suisse. It must have been very difficult for the poor sods who had to sit next to him. Some people have no consideration.
It's still sunny. I want to be OUTSIDE. God knows what sort of summer we're going to get this year. Make the most of these days, guys.
Music? I'm listening to Exile on Main St. (or Street - ?) I bet George Taylor is working hard in the States, dealing with investors trying to get in at the last minute.
I'm working, too. I'm writing this, making slow progress. One day I'll be free. I mean, I'll get myself free. One day you won't see me for dust, stardust.
Why doesn't George want any more money? Is $1.3 billion really enough? How much is enough? I get the feeling that George is a confused man.
I'll probably put Gilly Marie on my demo, in third place. I ain't got the time or energy to write loads of songs. Some great piano on Exile. I was always better on piano. I only have my guitar at the moment.
I wonder what sort of music George likes. And I wonder what he does when he's not working. 'Emptiness?' Yeah. The nights in front of the TV with cans of beer. I'm sure there's a lot of pain there.
Hot Rocks. Is time on my side? All depends on whom you compare me to. (Don't compare me to Shirley Temple!) Colonel Sanders was sixty-five before he took to that lonesome highway, trying to get someone interested in his chicken recipe.
If George Taylor was a man of ambition, wouldn't he want more than $1.3 billion for his Master fund? Maybe he's a poet. Or maybe he has got religion.
Closing. Oh, but they all do it! They let go. They lose the hunger.
