I think it's for the best. Robert Karr has had enough. Anyone with any sense has had enough. Soon, there'll be nothing to do in finance. And nothing to write about - thank God!
Robert is going to be returning money to investors ... when he can be bothered. I mean, he's got a lot on at the moment. Then he'll be free. 'But he's turning Joho into a family office, Mikey, to manage his own money.' That won't take up much of his time, Voice. A couple of mornings a week, that's all. He'll be on the golf course with his mates most afternoons. Lucky sod!
I don't blame Robert. Life is too short. Once you've made your money, dear reader(s), you've got to get out. Just get out! Save yourself! Don't hang around like a sad case. / Of course, it's worse for the poor souls who write about finance. They don't even have the consolation of great wealth. Bunch of cretins, the lot of them. (Except my angel.) Why do they do it? Do they actually enjoy it? I mean - 'They're cretins, boss.' Well, obviously. / I can't wait until my day of freedom comes. I shall be released!
...
I'm listening to Burt Bacharach to get myself in the mood. 'It won't be long now!' I'm staying positive, man.
I put some new strings on my guitar at the weekend. I love the sound of new strings. They sound of victory.
A chair is not a house, and a house is not a home. Truer words have never been sung!
I might try to record Gilly, Gilly today. It's easy to play. I should be able to get it in three or four takes. / As my guitar playing has improved, I might have a crack at My Heart as well.
What the world needs now is love, sweet love.
Robert is going to be returning money to investors ... when he can be bothered. I mean, he's got a lot on at the moment. Then he'll be free. 'But he's turning Joho into a family office, Mikey, to manage his own money.' That won't take up much of his time, Voice. A couple of mornings a week, that's all. He'll be on the golf course with his mates most afternoons. Lucky sod!
I don't blame Robert. Life is too short. Once you've made your money, dear reader(s), you've got to get out. Just get out! Save yourself! Don't hang around like a sad case. / Of course, it's worse for the poor souls who write about finance. They don't even have the consolation of great wealth. Bunch of cretins, the lot of them. (Except my angel.) Why do they do it? Do they actually enjoy it? I mean - 'They're cretins, boss.' Well, obviously. / I can't wait until my day of freedom comes. I shall be released!
...
I'm listening to Burt Bacharach to get myself in the mood. 'It won't be long now!' I'm staying positive, man.
I put some new strings on my guitar at the weekend. I love the sound of new strings. They sound of victory.
A chair is not a house, and a house is not a home. Truer words have never been sung!
I might try to record Gilly, Gilly today. It's easy to play. I should be able to get it in three or four takes. / As my guitar playing has improved, I might have a crack at My Heart as well.
What the world needs now is love, sweet love.
