Yippee! 'Is Dip a fund manager, boss?' Of course he is, Voice. He used to work at BlueBay Asset Management, and various other firms. 'Nice.' He's going to be managing the Odey Odyssey fund with our Tim. 'Our Tim?' Yes! Our Tim.
Oh, I'm sure we all remember Tim Bond ...
If you were alone, one night [ain't it always the nights? life is so easy in the daytime], in an attic or a cellar, and you were offered a companion, to help you make it through that night, wouldn't you choose Tim Bond, if I weren't available? Think about it. I want you to seriously think about it. You have some insight into his character now, so wouldn't you choose him? Forget about me. I could be indisposed. Incommunicado, maybe. It does happen. I'm sure you would choose Tim. And he wouldn't let you down.
Yeah? 'Oh, okay.' I think Dipankar Shewaram is going to be all right with our Tim. I mean, like a house on fire or something. 'What about Crispin?' Let's not talk about Crispin, please.
Dear reader(s), we don't want to talk about Crispin, all right? Let him fly away in his beautiful balloon. We don't care!
...
Anything else? On a Monday morning? In winter? Are you serious? 'I think they're serious, boss.' Jesus H. Christ!
Music? I'm listening to Low by David Bowie. It's the way I'm feeling, you dig? I suppose I should be listening to Bob Dylan going on about that apple suckling tree, seeing as he won the Nobel Prize last week, but I'm not in the mood.
Always Crashing in the Same Car is a good song. It's giving me ideas for No. 456.
Bowie's record company, RCA, didn't want him to release this album. An executive even offered to buy him a mansion if he would record Young Americans Part II. 'Ha!' Ha!
...
What else? Brexit? 'Ha!' Ha! / Prices are going up. 'That's reality.' A lot of people don't like reality. 'Tough.' Banks might be leaving London. 'Reality strikes again, boss!' Well, our government says everything is going to be all right. 'Ah, fantasy!' We will thrive in the sunlit uplands! / Aliens, abduct me!
Oh, I'm sure we all remember Tim Bond ...
If you were alone, one night [ain't it always the nights? life is so easy in the daytime], in an attic or a cellar, and you were offered a companion, to help you make it through that night, wouldn't you choose Tim Bond, if I weren't available? Think about it. I want you to seriously think about it. You have some insight into his character now, so wouldn't you choose him? Forget about me. I could be indisposed. Incommunicado, maybe. It does happen. I'm sure you would choose Tim. And he wouldn't let you down.
Yeah? 'Oh, okay.' I think Dipankar Shewaram is going to be all right with our Tim. I mean, like a house on fire or something. 'What about Crispin?' Let's not talk about Crispin, please.
Dear reader(s), we don't want to talk about Crispin, all right? Let him fly away in his beautiful balloon. We don't care!
...
Anything else? On a Monday morning? In winter? Are you serious? 'I think they're serious, boss.' Jesus H. Christ!
Music? I'm listening to Low by David Bowie. It's the way I'm feeling, you dig? I suppose I should be listening to Bob Dylan going on about that apple suckling tree, seeing as he won the Nobel Prize last week, but I'm not in the mood.
Always Crashing in the Same Car is a good song. It's giving me ideas for No. 456.
Bowie's record company, RCA, didn't want him to release this album. An executive even offered to buy him a mansion if he would record Young Americans Part II. 'Ha!' Ha!
...
What else? Brexit? 'Ha!' Ha! / Prices are going up. 'That's reality.' A lot of people don't like reality. 'Tough.' Banks might be leaving London. 'Reality strikes again, boss!' Well, our government says everything is going to be all right. 'Ah, fantasy!' We will thrive in the sunlit uplands! / Aliens, abduct me!
