Monday, 4 April 2016

Oh, man, these Panama Papers, man

Oh, man, this has given me a headache I don't need on a Monday morning. 'What's the problem, boss? What are these papers of which you speak?' The Panama Papers, Voice! Don't you watch or read the news? There's this law firm, see. Mossack Fonseca in Panama. They've had a leak from their database of millions of documents with all the financial details of the global elite. Hidden and dodgy money, yeah? 'So?' Well, everyone's going to find out about the billions I've got stashed away now. 'Oh, Christ! I forgot, man. I forgot you used to be Jack Pickles, the world's most demonic financier. But I thought you killed him, Mikey?' I did, Voice. But I didn't kill his money, did I? It's still stashed away. I was going to give it all to charity, but, er ... I never got round to it. 'Oh.' Couldn't find the time, you understand? 'Of course. How much is there?' I haven't got an exact figure. It will all be in the leaked documents, I suppose. 'Come on. How much, boss?' $12 billion, man. American dollars. 'Christ!' Yeah.

What am I going to do, dear reader(s)? Fuck! I really need this on a Monday morning. I was hoping to play my guitar this afternoon. I won't be able to concentrate on that now. I might write a conceptual instead, to take my mind off things. 'No. 404, boss?' You tell me! Is that the one after No. 403? 'Er ... it should be.' Well, there you go then. 'What are you going to write about?' Having no money. Being satisfied with simple things.


Anything else? I bought some sort of data pack for my new smart phone yesterday. You get 12GB for £20, which I think is a good deal. So I've been watching various music videos. There's a good clip on YouTube of Guns N' Roses performing Sweet Child O' Mine in 1988, in quite a small venue, and it's really intense.