No one told me. I thought Leigh was still at Eden Financial with his CF Eden UK Select Opportunities fund. / 'Eden sold him, Mikey. Slavery in this day and age.' I know, Voice. It's absolutely shocking. / What do we know about City Financial? 'Well, man, they're independent, I can tell you that. They're not owned by a bank. They're not owned by an insurance company. They've deliberately designed a nimble company to bring to advisers and investors a straightforward series of funds managed by characters who they reckon are masters of reality.' Incredible.
Of course, City Financial have got it wrong. I'm the only master of reality in the financial world. I could accept "masters of their craft", but - 'They're so arrogant, boss. Maybe you should teach them a lesson.' I might have to. I think I should give them a bit of time to change their ways though. 'Yeah.' / They better give Leigh a salary. 'And luncheon vouchers!' Yes, and luncheon vouchers.
Lunch? Oh, luxury egg sandwich, luxury strawberry yoghurt. And I might have some pieces of pineapple after my dinner tonight.
...
I'm getting sick of the personal stuff. However, I've got to tell you about my holiday in St Ives. / I only stayed three nights. I couldn't find a reasonably-priced room. And I sprained my ankle, so I couldn't walk around the cliffs. And some bastard of a seagull stole my mint ice cream and left me with just the cone. (There was a headline in the local paper: Seagulls lured to their deaths.) / But I had a great time. The weather was perfect. / I'll go back one day, for months, or forever - after my ship has come in, obviously.
Update (9.00pm): I've decided that My Funny Valentine is the greatest song ever written. And I think Sinatra's version is the best. / I've damaged my hand. (I'm hoping it's not carpal tunnel syndrome.) So my guitar playing is fucked at the moment. I don't want to write songs on the piano. (Although I will if I have to.) Never mind, eh?
Of course, City Financial have got it wrong. I'm the only master of reality in the financial world. I could accept "masters of their craft", but - 'They're so arrogant, boss. Maybe you should teach them a lesson.' I might have to. I think I should give them a bit of time to change their ways though. 'Yeah.' / They better give Leigh a salary. 'And luncheon vouchers!' Yes, and luncheon vouchers.
_________________________
Lunch? Oh, luxury egg sandwich, luxury strawberry yoghurt. And I might have some pieces of pineapple after my dinner tonight.
...
I'm getting sick of the personal stuff. However, I've got to tell you about my holiday in St Ives. / I only stayed three nights. I couldn't find a reasonably-priced room. And I sprained my ankle, so I couldn't walk around the cliffs. And some bastard of a seagull stole my mint ice cream and left me with just the cone. (There was a headline in the local paper: Seagulls lured to their deaths.) / But I had a great time. The weather was perfect. / I'll go back one day, for months, or forever - after my ship has come in, obviously.
Update (9.00pm): I've decided that My Funny Valentine is the greatest song ever written. And I think Sinatra's version is the best. / I've damaged my hand. (I'm hoping it's not carpal tunnel syndrome.) So my guitar playing is fucked at the moment. I don't want to write songs on the piano. (Although I will if I have to.) Never mind, eh?
