Thursday, 15 October 2015

John Chatfeild-Roberts still doesn't get it

Jesus H. Christ! This is unbelievable. John Chatfeild-Roberts has been telling anyone who will listen that he was an average or "OK" chief investment officer. 'Who's everyone, boss? He hasn't told me.' Well, you're no one, I'm afraid, Voice. 'Oh.' He wouldn't tell you, would he? But he's been telling Fundweb, putting himself down. 'Oh dear.' I can't believe it!

Our John was a pretty good CIO, as far as I'm concerned. 'Was he? Really?' Yes. I never had a problem with him in that role, as far as the work went, you know, but ... 'It's his name, yeah?' The name is too sinister, man. You can't go around calling yourself Chatfeild-Roberts when the decent, "normal", respectable thing to do is to call yourself Chatfield-Roberts. 'With the "i" before the "e", just like they taught us in school.' Did you go to school, Voice? 'I can't remember.' Well, never mind.

John, mate, if you're reading this, is it too much to ask? Put the "i" before the "e" and then we can all get some sleep at night, and you might even end up as the chief executive of Jupiter, one day. 'Anything is possible. Is our John ambitious, boss?' I have no idea. Probably not. He seems quite happy at the moment with this Merlin nonsense of his. 'I suppose it keeps him off the streets.'


Anything else? 'Politics?' Politics?! I'm sick of politics, man! Three million families are going to lose money from their tax credits next year, and Cameron wants everyone to believe that it's a good thing. 'Ha!' Apparently, we're moving from a low-wage, high-welfare society to a high, er, everyone living in the gutter society, covered in piss, no doubt. 'It's what the sheep voted for, Mikey.' WELL, LET THEM HAVE IT!!! / Oh, what do I care? I'll be living in Malibu soon, anyway.