Well, well ... / Yes, Chris Connor has had enough, and he's moving now (with some of his team - analysts, apparently) to Citadel's Aptigon unit. And I don't have much to add, dear reader(s). [Or anything.] It’s just one of those things. 'And it's Christmas, of course, boss, and you're feeling lazy.' So?! You add something if you're so dedicated to this shit. 'All right, I will. Try this one on for size - This person is connected to 0 Board Members in 0 different organizations across 0 different industries. Ha! That's what Bloomberg says about Chris Connor, man. How do you like them apples?!' Christ! It's the same old thing, Voice. How can you delude yourself? / Ah, some things never change, dear reader(s). Bloomberg is so comforting, you know? In a world that has gone crazy, in a world where you never know what will happen from one day to the next, we can rely on Bloomberg to say This person is connected to 0 Board Members in 0 different organizations across 0 different industries about some finance guy.
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Anything else? Uh. Tomorrow? 'And tomorrow, and tomorrow, Mikey?' What? Yes, Tomorrow is my last writing day of the year. Two or three posts, probably. Then I can spend all of my time eating mince pies and chocolates. I need a rest. I'm knackered. 'What about your guitar?' I'll be playing my guitar, man, over the holiday. Don't worry about that. / Actually, I've recently improved my rhythm playing by watching various "experts" on YouTube. I'm holding my pick differently, at a different angle, with different fingers, and I'm strumming in a different area - just before the sound hole, for your information, I mean, near the bridge. 'So, it's different strokes for different Fowkes, yeah?' Jesus! Shut up! You idiot! Please.
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Anything else? Er ... what are you doing for Christmas? 'I'll be on the astral plane, with the relatives. The usual thing.' I wasn't asking you. 'Oh.' I was asking the readers ...
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Anything else? Uh. Tomorrow? 'And tomorrow, and tomorrow, Mikey?' What? Yes, Tomorrow is my last writing day of the year. Two or three posts, probably. Then I can spend all of my time eating mince pies and chocolates. I need a rest. I'm knackered. 'What about your guitar?' I'll be playing my guitar, man, over the holiday. Don't worry about that. / Actually, I've recently improved my rhythm playing by watching various "experts" on YouTube. I'm holding my pick differently, at a different angle, with different fingers, and I'm strumming in a different area - just before the sound hole, for your information, I mean, near the bridge. 'So, it's different strokes for different Fowkes, yeah?' Jesus! Shut up! You idiot! Please.
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Anything else? Er ... what are you doing for Christmas? 'I'll be on the astral plane, with the relatives. The usual thing.' I wasn't asking you. 'Oh.' I was asking the readers ...
LOOK INTO MY EYES!!!
Really? That's very interesting. Well, I hope you have a nice time. You've been working hard this year. [Unless you're at Aviva Investors. Obviously.] Well ...
See you tomorrow. Laters.
See you tomorrow. Laters.
