Well, well ... / How does anyone know, eh? Tell me! Right, er ... / It's just so confusing! There's this new website for professional investors, with fund managers on it, you see. All talking on video or something. I don't know what's going on. Valuable advice - if you can imagine that. 'Ha!' Fundweb's going on about it. But of course Fundweb can't be bothered with a link to the new website it's talking about. 'Oh no!' (And I can't be bothered to link to Fundweb. 'Ha!') Oh no, too much like hard work, that is. So ... I've had to Google Alpha-Sight, and I've had to face loads of options, which, er ... and I don't know where the blasted website is! 'And guess what!' I don't care now, Voice, which was obviously Fundweb's intention from the very beginning. 'Oh, those bastards!'
This is how these things work ... Someone calls in a favour. Someone that Danny Boy doesn't like. (I think Danny is the editor. Unless it's Adam. Unless he's the editor of the magazine, which has a different fucking name. Christ knows! 'Unbelievable, Mikey!') Oh, Danny, we've got a new website for professional investors. It's brilliant, man! Can you get one of your guys to write about it on Fundweb? And Danny says, Sure, son, no problem. Then Danny gives the job to some poor intern who doesn't know his arse from his elbow. 'Ha! Clever.' The intern fucks it up, as Danny was hoping he would. 'Brilliant!' The new website gets a mention, the favour is returned, but no one out in Professional Investor Land is any the wiser. 'Result!' / And that's what I've learnt after nearly eight years in this game. I want out!!!
...
Anything else? What? What?! You've already had bare entertainment, dear reader(s). So, no, there's nothing else. / 'They're still here. I think they want to know about your lunch, boss.' Oh. Cheese sandwich. Now piss off!
...
Give it a minute, Voice.
...
Oh, you still here, dear reader(s)? Hardcore, aren't you? There's nothing else, man. See you tomorrow.
This is how these things work ... Someone calls in a favour. Someone that Danny Boy doesn't like. (I think Danny is the editor. Unless it's Adam. Unless he's the editor of the magazine, which has a different fucking name. Christ knows! 'Unbelievable, Mikey!') Oh, Danny, we've got a new website for professional investors. It's brilliant, man! Can you get one of your guys to write about it on Fundweb? And Danny says, Sure, son, no problem. Then Danny gives the job to some poor intern who doesn't know his arse from his elbow. 'Ha! Clever.' The intern fucks it up, as Danny was hoping he would. 'Brilliant!' The new website gets a mention, the favour is returned, but no one out in Professional Investor Land is any the wiser. 'Result!' / And that's what I've learnt after nearly eight years in this game. I want out!!!
...
Anything else? What? What?! You've already had bare entertainment, dear reader(s). So, no, there's nothing else. / 'They're still here. I think they want to know about your lunch, boss.' Oh. Cheese sandwich. Now piss off!
...
Give it a minute, Voice.
...
Oh, you still here, dear reader(s)? Hardcore, aren't you? There's nothing else, man. See you tomorrow.
