First we had Brett de Bank. Now we have Giles Money. Will these people never learn? / Dear oh dear. Giles Money is a Schroders fund manager. (Or so they say.) His Schroder ISF Global Resources fund is, er, closed, so ... I don't know. / I don't really know who he is. They told me: "Mikey, there's a man. His name is Giles Money. He works at Schroders. Try to believe, son." They even showed me a photograph of Giles. / I feel lost, in finance. I've heard many names, seen many photographs. I've tried to believe in all of them. What am I to do? Surely, I can't continue like this and hold on to my sanity. I know there's a better life. Sometimes, you catch a glimpse of it, in a dream ... a lovely dream.
Yeah, er, later, after lunch, I'll take Giles Money for a spin, No. 212. 'What good will that do, boss?' I've got to try, Voice. 'Over two hundred times you've tried, man. You're no closer to solving the mystery.' Ah, the mystery! / One of these days, I'll get real ... DIZZY! I'll show everyone!
...
Well, well, er ... well. / I'm listening to The Stone Roses this morning. Why? Let me tell you. I had this cool dream last night, although it started off badly. I was going to these job interviews with various businessmen who were saying stuff like Five years from now you could be a millionaire, you could be sitting where I'm sitting. And I was thinking (sarcastically) Great! I mean, to be honest with you, dear reader(s), they seemed like demonic puppets straight from hell. Do you know what I mean? Nasty! / Anyway, the dream went on for ages - twists and turns, you know the deal - until I finally ended up in a record shop. I was looking at the CDs when I literally bumped into Ian Brown from The Stone Roses. Yeah! And he tried to get me to buy one of his solo albums. I said No thanks, Ian. I'm waiting for The Stone Roses' third album. He told me that would be some time yet, so why not get the solo one? I said No offence, Ian. I'll wait for the third album. To his credit, he took it well. He didn't get upset. But then John Squire turned up and they decided to sign the CD and give it to me for free. What great guys, eh?! / And they were really real in the dream as well. They looked the same as in real life, spoke the same, behaved how you would expect them to. And as I say, great guys. Decent, nice guys. However, those businessmen gave me the impression they wanted to suck the blood out of me. / What do you make of it, dear reader(s)?
Yeah, er, later, after lunch, I'll take Giles Money for a spin, No. 212. 'What good will that do, boss?' I've got to try, Voice. 'Over two hundred times you've tried, man. You're no closer to solving the mystery.' Ah, the mystery! / One of these days, I'll get real ... DIZZY! I'll show everyone!
...
Well, well, er ... well. / I'm listening to The Stone Roses this morning. Why? Let me tell you. I had this cool dream last night, although it started off badly. I was going to these job interviews with various businessmen who were saying stuff like Five years from now you could be a millionaire, you could be sitting where I'm sitting. And I was thinking (sarcastically) Great! I mean, to be honest with you, dear reader(s), they seemed like demonic puppets straight from hell. Do you know what I mean? Nasty! / Anyway, the dream went on for ages - twists and turns, you know the deal - until I finally ended up in a record shop. I was looking at the CDs when I literally bumped into Ian Brown from The Stone Roses. Yeah! And he tried to get me to buy one of his solo albums. I said No thanks, Ian. I'm waiting for The Stone Roses' third album. He told me that would be some time yet, so why not get the solo one? I said No offence, Ian. I'll wait for the third album. To his credit, he took it well. He didn't get upset. But then John Squire turned up and they decided to sign the CD and give it to me for free. What great guys, eh?! / And they were really real in the dream as well. They looked the same as in real life, spoke the same, behaved how you would expect them to. And as I say, great guys. Decent, nice guys. However, those businessmen gave me the impression they wanted to suck the blood out of me. / What do you make of it, dear reader(s)?
