Thursday, 16 April 2015

Why would Philip Matthews leave Jupiter for Schroders?!

Uh ... / Why would he do it, eh? WHY WOULD HE DO IT?!?! 'What?! Have you just found out? Old news, man. Phil left Jupiter two years ago.' Well, er ... what was I doing, two years ago? 'How should I know? I don't know what you were doing yesterday.' I was writing my blog yesterday, but tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow ... 'Let's concentrate on today, boss. Please, for my health.' Yes, yes. For your health. / Philip Matthews left Jupiter two years ago. Why?! Why would he do that? Jupiter is where all the shamans are. Schroders is where all the mugs are, all the poor souls who do all the work for the Aviva Investors mob while they're in the pub or - 'The park, Mikey. In this weather, definitely the park. It's a no-brainer.' Yes, Voice. No brain. No brain, er ... / No brain in the park! With bright sunshine, lying on the grass ... should feel better than work. / And ice cream, ice cream, ice cream ... ah, one more, one more, a-ROUND the mouth! Ice cream, more! Yes! Help me! Where am I?

Yes, yes. / Philip Matthews, our Phil, as he is, or will be, is managing the UK Growth fund at Schroders. 'For Aviva Investors?' No. No, it's not one of their funds. ('Why can't they manage their own funds?' Oh, we all know why. Ice cream, and beer. Ice cream right now. I can see them! But me? I'll be having beer tomorrow. Not today though. I must work today, for my sins.) Our Phil was at Jupiter for fourteen years. I can't believe he left. 'A new challenge, boss.' Oh, wonderful, yeah. Ha! There are no challenges. / Schroders, Schroders ... / I can't remember! Do they have financial shamans at Schroders? 'Maybe a couple.' I'll have to go through my archive, one of these nights. The past is a foreign country, or a different country, or something. 'Focus!' / All I know is, man, here we are today. Let's be happy with what we have, dear reader(s). There's nothing we can do for Phil. He must find his own way. / Oh God. No, no. There's a nasty rumour he went to Eton and Cambridge. 'Christ, Mikey! Who spreads this shit?!' I don't know. It's the internet. Sick people. What can we do? 'Nothing, I suppose.' We can ignore it, Voice.

We can make our own Philip Matthews. One that belongs to us only. 'And we can take him for a spin!' Yes. Later, later. Yes. After lunch, after the luxury egg sandwich, we'll make our little puppet, and make him so DIZZY. He'll forget all about Schroders. 'If he's truly ours, he'll never know of Schroders.' Good point!