Shut up! It's too early in the morning, Voice. Here they are ... / Uh, dear reader(s), yeah, I got this email yesterday from some PR babe, about Terra Capital. But I'm all confused now and I don't know what to do. Should I write this post, Voice? 'What's the problem, boss?' Well, Terra Capital is based in ... We are an Isle of Man company that seeks to achieve capital appreciation while attempting to reduce risk primarily by applying a disciplined and diversified value investing philosophy. 'So?' There are two problems, man. Firstly, the firm is only worth $0.967. Ninety-six cents!!! Secondly, why are they using American dollars in the Isle of Man? What's going on? 'Christ! Everyone uses dollars. It's no big deal.' No? 'No. And that's the way it will stay until America collapses.' America is going to collapse?! 'Sooner or later, boss. Think about it: Trillions of dollars of debt, militias patrolling the streets of cities, the police out of control, riots, mayhem, and ... er, President Trump?! Oh, it won't be long now.' Jesus. Okay. What about the value of the company? 'Which company?' Terra Firma. 'Eh?' Terra Capital! 'Er ... let me have a look at that bloody PR email.' Come on! 'Give me a minute, please.' [A minute passes.] 'Ha!' What? 'It's the share price.' Oh, thank God for that! 'Why do you care?' I thought Lizzy might be a lunatic. 'Lizzy? Lizzy who?' The PR babe. 'Oh.' Emails, yeah? I have no idea who these people are, Voice. 'No, I suppose not. I should imagine she's completely sane though.' Thanks, man.
Well, that's a relief, eh?
...
Anything else? Oh, I had a rough night with weird dreams. I don't want to talk about it. Let me just say though I'm very happy to be awake in the daylight, you dig? 'Enough said, boss.' Fucking dreams! Whispering spirit women! I really need that shit!
Anyway, let's change the subject. / Guitar? Well, I got my sums wrong yesterday. As long as I do nine hours this week (which will be a piece of piss) my eighteen-month average will be ... two hours twenty minutes every single day! 'Yippee!' Yeah. An extra five minutes. 1,283 hours! / When I was younger (roughly age sixteen to twenty-three) I couldn't have played more than seven hundred hours the whole time. 'Lazy!' Of course, I was playing the piano/keyboard as well (another seven hundred hours, roughly). And writing songs, and recording. BUT(!) ... the moral of the story? You can roll [tonight] to the guitar bite at any age, man.
Well, that's a relief, eh?
...
Anything else? Oh, I had a rough night with weird dreams. I don't want to talk about it. Let me just say though I'm very happy to be awake in the daylight, you dig? 'Enough said, boss.' Fucking dreams! Whispering spirit women! I really need that shit!
Anyway, let's change the subject. / Guitar? Well, I got my sums wrong yesterday. As long as I do nine hours this week (which will be a piece of piss) my eighteen-month average will be ... two hours twenty minutes every single day! 'Yippee!' Yeah. An extra five minutes. 1,283 hours! / When I was younger (roughly age sixteen to twenty-three) I couldn't have played more than seven hundred hours the whole time. 'Lazy!' Of course, I was playing the piano/keyboard as well (another seven hundred hours, roughly). And writing songs, and recording. BUT(!) ... the moral of the story? You can roll [tonight] to the guitar bite at any age, man.
