All right, all right. There's no need to get upset, man. Jesus! It's just a new fund. Jesus H. Christ! New funds have launched before. They're always being launched. Why should this one be any different? 'This one is managed by James Hanbury, Mikey.' So? Mr Hanbury is just a man, like me, like ... 'Not like me. Oh, I'm a voice, and that's it.' Of course, Voice. I wasn't going to say you. Ha! It's a life of Riley, ain't it, the life of a voice? 'Not really.' Well, whatever. / The Odey Allegra Developed Markets fund is one of these Ucits things. You only need £5,000 to invest. 'Have you got £5,000?' No, I ain't got a pot to piss in, me. I'm only - 'Why are we even talking about this shit, Mikey?' We're doing it for Jimmy, Voice. 'Jimmy?' Mr Hanbury. 'Oh. Is he another of your close personal friends then?' No. I've never even met him. I have no idea who he is. I'm a humanitarian, you know? 'Yeah. You like helping people.' I'm practically a saint, man.
That's enough, for Monday morning. / I'm pissed off. I've got this cheese and onion quiche for my dinner tonight, without the crust, right? But I want the fucking crust! They think they're doing us a favour, the people who leave out the crusts - but they're just cheap bastards, if you ask me. / Rip-off Britain. I'm sick of it.
I'm listening to the new Beady Eye album. Plenty of good songs, but no great ones. I'm not having a pop. Great songs don't get written these days. / Amy was the last, seven years ago.
I'll be playing my guitar after lunch. I'm still waiting for You're Lying. It'll be worth the wait. / I'm gonna have three great songs, then I'll write my own ticket. You wait and see, man. I need ONE LYRIC. Got the title, got the chorus, got the concept. Be patient, please.
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That's enough, for Monday morning. / I'm pissed off. I've got this cheese and onion quiche for my dinner tonight, without the crust, right? But I want the fucking crust! They think they're doing us a favour, the people who leave out the crusts - but they're just cheap bastards, if you ask me. / Rip-off Britain. I'm sick of it.
I'm listening to the new Beady Eye album. Plenty of good songs, but no great ones. I'm not having a pop. Great songs don't get written these days. / Amy was the last, seven years ago.
I'll be playing my guitar after lunch. I'm still waiting for You're Lying. It'll be worth the wait. / I'm gonna have three great songs, then I'll write my own ticket. You wait and see, man. I need ONE LYRIC. Got the title, got the chorus, got the concept. Be patient, please.
