I can't leave town for five minutes. People doing things behind my back. I'm glad I'm not a fund manager at Duet. (They offered.) I couldn't take the grief they would lay on me. New faces, new funds. Who needs new faces? And who needs new funds? I like things to stay the same, all the time, never changing. Anyway, these fools, they’ve got David Dali, Jack Janasiewicz, and Brian Hassett all mixed up now with some new emerging markets macro hedge fund. (Macro? Christ!) The Emerging Markets Macro Fund, they're calling it. No one can accuse these guys of not having any imagination, that's for sure. 'Well ...' Oi! / Well, there's no mystery with a name like that. The fund will mess with credit spreads, interest rates, currencies, and stocks. Not that I care. It's not as if I'm involved. They can do what they want. But if they see me coming, they better run.
They won't see me coming. I'm not going anywhere near them. I'm staying right here, having fun as usual. Going a-ROUND and that. Not today though. This will be the first and last post today because I'm still recovering from Cornwall in my head, you dig? (The intense experience.) I had a great time, except for the wasps. Yeah, I had to run the gauntlet of wasps on the cliff. They came out of the bushes. Hundreds of them. I was practically a dead man running. But I didn't get one sting. I think they were more interested in the flowers, to be honest. You should try it. 'Me?!' It certainly beats Tony Robbins and all that walking on coals shit. I feel like a new man! 'Really?' No, not really.
Music update? There ain't no music update. I ain't got the energy. 'Mikey, when are you going to get your shit together?' I don't know, Voice. I just don't know. 'It's crazy, man.' I know.
I know what I want to do. But I can't do it. I'm paralysed, mentally or something. Lack of energy. Lack of will. Lack of enthusiasm. Not enough time. I've just come back from holiday, and ... 'Excuses!' / One of these days ...
One of these nights ...
Oh, after the wasps, I decided to hit the road (to Polperro) instead. Then I came across about twenty bees by a tree who thought they could try it on with me. And I was like: 'You fucking amateurs! How can you delude yourselves?' Pathetic.
They won't see me coming. I'm not going anywhere near them. I'm staying right here, having fun as usual. Going a-ROUND and that. Not today though. This will be the first and last post today because I'm still recovering from Cornwall in my head, you dig? (The intense experience.) I had a great time, except for the wasps. Yeah, I had to run the gauntlet of wasps on the cliff. They came out of the bushes. Hundreds of them. I was practically a dead man running. But I didn't get one sting. I think they were more interested in the flowers, to be honest. You should try it. 'Me?!' It certainly beats Tony Robbins and all that walking on coals shit. I feel like a new man! 'Really?' No, not really.
Music update? There ain't no music update. I ain't got the energy. 'Mikey, when are you going to get your shit together?' I don't know, Voice. I just don't know. 'It's crazy, man.' I know.
I know what I want to do. But I can't do it. I'm paralysed, mentally or something. Lack of energy. Lack of will. Lack of enthusiasm. Not enough time. I've just come back from holiday, and ... 'Excuses!' / One of these days ...
One of these nights ...
Oh, after the wasps, I decided to hit the road (to Polperro) instead. Then I came across about twenty bees by a tree who thought they could try it on with me. And I was like: 'You fucking amateurs! How can you delude yourselves?' Pathetic.
