Monday 30 June 2008

Want lunch with me?

It will cost you £2 million. But unlike Warren Buffett I won't be giving the money to charity. No, I'll just spend it on a load of shit.

I need some new candles (a lot of them), a new ceremonial gown, a pack of tarot cards, and some rare grimoires - really bloody expensive, you wouldn't believe. Most of the money will be spent on them. You can never have too many grimoires.

Where is Samuel Israel III?

A few weeks ago, hedge fund manager and convicted fraudster Samuel Israel III disappeared after abandoning his car on a bridge over the Hudson River in upstate New York. In the dust on his car he scrawled the message: 'suicide is painless'. He was supposed to be going to prison for twenty years. He defrauded investors in the Bayou Management hedge fund out of $400 million. And now he's gone. Gone. My guess is you'll never hear from him again.

He's gone underground with Jack Pickles. It's true. Jack is putting quite a team together, and you've got to admire his demonic energy, I suppose. But Mr Israel will soon find out that though suicide is painless, working for Jack Pickles ain't.

Saturday 28 June 2008

The ghosts of the dead financiers

Not to be confused with money ghosts. As you no doubt know by now, money ghosts are those evil little gits that have infested the City of London, and that steal people's money. The ghosts of the dead financiers are a different class of ghost altogether. They live on the astral plane, and very rarely venture down to earth. Quite friendly, unless you're a socialist. They wouldn't piss on a socialist if he was on fire. Basically, they are advisers. Financial shamans such as myself, and senior money mystics, engage with these characters on the plane. We can also hear their voices off-plane - when the conditions are right. Bob Diamond had a bit of trouble earlier this week. One dead financier contacted him, and Bob didn't haven't the slightest idea what was happening. Apparently, this ghost was concerned about the Barclays share issue and wanted to pass on some information that Bob would find useful. But Bob got upset and a little disorientated and imagined that he was losing his mind. These things happen. I could tell you stories about when I first became a financial shaman that would make your hair stand on end. Another time, perhaps.

A reader asked me recently: How do you join the ghosts of the dead financiers? Good question. Well, for starters, you have to be dead - so it's not for everyone. You will have had to been a multimillionaire on earth, and worked in an investment bank, or - even better - had owned your own hedge fund. Got to be a hard-core capitalist - goes without saying. Got to have a mystical/spiritual side to your nature. A lot of banker types don't even believe in the afterlife. Then they die and pop up on the astral plane and expect everything to be handed to them on a plate. I'm sorry, but it doesn't work like that. You have to cultivate your mystical side while you're still alive. Meditate a bit. Look after your chakras. And praying to Big Herb won't do any harm. Big Herb is the money god that everyone should bow down to. And I mean EVERYONE. Also, I can put in a good word for people I approve of. Remember, I am the money king. The last money king was Big Herb himself, before he passed over. So it's a serious position, and I have a lot of influence with the powers that be on the astral plane. David Pitt is someone else you can go to. Regular readers will know that he is the chief priest in the cult of Big Herb. He deals with the dead financiers all day long. Probably even more than I do. I can't be on the astral plane 24/7. I've got this blog to write, deals to do, and Jack Pickles to take down. Yeah, I will be going after him at some stage. The Feds are fucking useless. They ain't going to tackle Jack. It's down to me. Old friend or not, I'm gonna finish him.

Well, anyway, I hope this has cleared a few things up. If you seriously want to become one of the ghosts of the dead financiers, it's a worthy ambition and I respect you for it. But don't wish your life away, eh?

Thursday 26 June 2008

William Tanona!

Shares nightmare around the world! Dow Jones Industrial Average down! S&P 500 down! FTSE down!

I wonder if William Tanona is involved. Has Jack Pickles got to him?

Keith Busby's mystical healing day at Cairn Capital

Let the healing begin! Actually, it's all over. On Monday this week, award-winning financial psychic Keith Busby visited the headquarters of London-based Cairn Capital, and he healed the whole team. He told me, 'Yeah, the management called me in. They were concerned that some of their staff had bad karma and blocked chakras and shitty auras. So I did my thing. Got out the healing crystals, lit a few candles, a tarot card reading or two, even a foot massage - Andrew Burke requested that for reasons best known to himself. But anyway, a great time was had by all. And I got two grand out of it. Not bad for half a day's work.'

Here's what the Cairn Capital boys and girls had to say about this amazing day:

Dhiraj Bajaj: 'Keith Busby is the man!', Christopher Bentley: 'Keith blew my mind', Andrew Burke: 'I had the time of my life', Magnus Butlin: 'What a character!', Paul Campbell: 'The man's a genius', Jenna Collins: 'Just what I needed on a Monday morning. I hope he comes back', Manuel Delgado: 'Nonsense like this makes my blood boil', Tim Frost: 'He struck me as a bit of a charlatan, but I certainly enjoyed myself', Arnaud Graebert: 'No comment', Aysha Green: 'Great guy', Andrew Haddleton: 'What the hell was all that about? But it got me a few hours off work', Roy Harris: 'Keith is a top bloke', Steve Harrison: 'Ten out of ten. Really impressed', David Henriques: 'Mr Busby will go down in history', Paul Higham: 'It was nice', Vanaja Indra: 'Wonderful', Andrew Jackson: 'It was all right, I suppose', Andrew Jarmolkiewicz: 'I had fun', Cyrus Kateli: 'No comment', Sid Kaul: 'I can't remember the last time I laughed so much. Steve Harrison was balancing a crystal on his head. But whatever floats your boat', Jerry Khasar: 'A day to remember', David Littlewood: 'I liked him', Haqnoor Khan: 'Was he on drugs?', Stefano Loreti: 'Cool!', Samantha Lynch: 'A bit of a wanker', Gareth Mills: 'I don't approve of all this voodoo shit', Neil Milton: 'Anything that gets me away from my desk for a while is okay by me', John Murphy: 'I didn't take to him at all', Alistair Murrell: 'Keith made me smile', Duncan Needham: 'He unblocked my chakras and I won't hear a word said against him', Robert Pierce Jones: 'Strange guy. Amusing though', Khuram Sharih: 'I've seen better', James Starky: 'Keith is one in a million', Mark Stieler: 'Keith told me I had bad karma, but he sorted it', Vlad Stupak: 'I've got bad karma and something wrong with my aura, and he couldn't help me. Not at all pleased', Renee Toft: 'I wish I could earn a living like that', Andre Vollmann: 'I consider him a fucking nutter, sorry', Shaun Wood: 'The smoke from those candles made me ill'.

Bob Diamond: beautiful noise

The boss of Barclays Capital, Bob Diamond, spoke to analysts in Canary Wharf yesterday about 'noise'. They wanted to know about the £4.5 billion share issue. But Bob would only speak of the 'noise'.

Well, I phoned Bob last night, and the guy broke down. He said to me, 'Michael, I need someone to confide in. I've been hearing a noise in my ears. Not tinnitus. No, this is something more sinister because there are voices in the noise! I'm hearing voices! Oh God, am I going insane? O gentle, Jesus H. Christ, save me! Today - I can't believe I'm telling you this - when I was sitting alongside Marcus Agius on that panel I heard a voice. It was calling to me from the wilderness, you might say. It said: Bob, O Bob, beware of Marcus. He ain't got no religion. And I freaked out. Nearly jumped out of my seat. John Varley leaned over to me and asked me what I was playing at. I could hardly tell him that a voice from the fucking wilderness was calling me and bad-mouthing the chairman, could I? Jesus! Maybe it's the pressure I'm under. This fucking share issue!'

He then burst into tears, and I had to swing into action. I told Bob, 'Bob, mate, there is no need to be afraid. This is beautiful noise. It's a sound that I love. I get it all the time. Soon, the hissing will die down and you will just be left with the voices. But don't you understand what this is? It is the awakening that every financial shaman experiences. You're becoming one of the lads! It is something to celebrate. Don't cry. That voice you heard wasn't from the wilderness, you silly thing. No, it was from the astral plane. It was probably one of the ghosts of the dead financiers. And you should pay attention to it. Marcus ain't got no religion. He has said so himself. Cheer up, Bob. Dry those eyes. Welcome to the revolution.'

Wednesday 25 June 2008

Matt Piper: the latest news

Both the Daily Telegraph and the Daily Mail have been on to me about poor Matt. They want to know where he is. Well, if only I knew.

I'll give you my gut feeling though. I reckon he's gone back to the desert. I told Helen Power at the Telegraph I wouldn't grass up my old mate, and I'm not going to. Do you know how big the desert is? No one will find him. I hope I'm not out of line talking about Matt like this.

Matt, mate, I wish you all the best. I didn't tell those journalists a thing. Keep off the peyote.

David Greer: lead him, follow him, or get out of his way

Just don't expect any sense out of him. I was reading today about this David Greer character from Regal Petroleum. Apparently, when he was at Royal Dutch Shell he sent a memo to his managers which read, 'Lead me, follow me, or get out of my way'.

Now, I have been trying to analyse this from a mystical standpoint, and I still can't make any bloody sense out of it. Schizophrenic ain't the word. This bloke is freakin' nuts! How can we lead him if he's the boss? And how can we follow him if he wants us to get out of his way?

Well, maybe he wants us to do all three things at once. Split our souls into three pieces and follow, lead and get out of the way on a cosmic level.

I have been speaking to Acton's leading brain specialist, Maurice Marble III, and he told me, 'David has something wrong with his brain. This is not a mystical problem, Michael. You're barking up the wrong tree. There is a chemical imbalance in David's head. He thinks he's the boss. But then he has moments when he thinks he is a mere slave. Or as Shakespeare would put it - a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson glass-gazing super-serviceable finical rogue, one-trunk-inheriting slave. At other times, he just wants people to leave him alone and get out of his way. He wants to retreat into his shell. You'll find a lot of company executives are like this. A bunch of nutters, basically. I can't help him.'

Monday 23 June 2008

Is Hugh Hendry the devil?

Just been watching a programme on Channel 4 about the rising cost of food, featuring hedge fund manager Hugh Hendry. The presenter asked: Is this man the devil?

Well, er, no, he's not, I'm afraid. Jack Pickles makes Hugh look like a complete amateur. Sorry, Hugh. Go back to the drawing board.

In this moment

Big Herb came to me in a dream last night. Nothing unusual about that. Happens all the time. But it's what he said. It's what he said. He said to me, 'Michael, you must live in this moment. You must burn in this moment. You must dream in this moment just as this dream lives in you and burns with you. Then you will find the money. There is no future. There is no past. For you, there is only the present burning that will reveal the money. Tell your readers.'

What did he mean? Well, as soon as I woke up I started to meditate on the meaning of his words. The moment is now. And not just for me. For you. For everyone. Can you feel the burning? Can you feel the love? It's not in our past. The past is gone. It's not in our future. The future is unknown. Big Herb means now. Now is our moment. Our destiny. Our hunk of burning love. Where is the money? The money is where we want it to be. Okay, where should it be? In a bank? Under the mattress? No. I believe the money should be burning in our hearts. How many times have I said this? And yet, do we really believe? We know the theory, but do we really believe?

I believe. O my children, my brothers, my sisters, I'm in tears as I type this into my laptop. I can hardly see the screen. These beautiful tears! Let me share them with you! I believe. I BELIEVE! I believe in the money. I believe in the mystical burning of money. I believe in Big Herb. I believe in Ganesh. And - O my children - I believe in you! Yes, I have faith in you. I know that when the time comes you will do the right thing. You won't let me down. You won't let Big Herb down. You won't let Ganesh down - let's face it, he's a part of this too. Most of all, you won't let yourselves down. YOU WILL DO THE RIGHT THING. When the order comes. YOU WILL DO THE RIGHT THING.

Say this: O Master, I am ready to serve. I believe. I love the money. I love the burning. Guide me, O Master. Let us become one blood and one soul in the fire of Big Herb's holy love. Let us show the world we mean business. Let us burn!

O my children, my brothers, my sisters, I am so proud of you all.

Friday 20 June 2008

Advice for Ralph Cioffi and Matthew Tannin

Listen, Ralph, mate. And you, Matthew. I don't know if you two are innocent or not. I have no knowledge of this matter. I'm not involved. All I do know is that you've got to tell the Feds everything you know about Jack Pickles. And I mean EVERYTHING. Normally, I would say - never rat on your friends. But Jack ain't no friend of yours. He ain't got no friends.

Let me tell you something about this evil cocksucker. Jack Pickles has darkness in his heart. The man is in league with the devil. Money does not burn within him. Money has burnt him out. He's a shell of a man. A burnt-out shell of pure evil. Do you really want to protect someone like that? Think of your families. Think of the afterlife. Ralph, Matthew, please listen to me. You have got to give Jack up. Let the Feds deal with him. One more thing: you better go into the Witness Protection Program because Jack's hellish crew will be out for your blood. Good luck, guys.

Thursday 19 June 2008

Matt Piper: another rogue trader?

Morgan Stanley revealed yesterday that one of its traders had incorrectly valued his positions, costing the bank $120 million. People in the know say this London-based credit derivatives trader is Matt Piper.

So, another rogue trader? Let's not be too hard on Matt. He probably made a few mistakes, but not everyone who screws up is a rogue trader. I know Matt. I met him in the desert a few years ago, and he's a good sort. He doesn't have an evil bone in his body. Let's cut the man some slack.

Wednesday 18 June 2008

How has Goldman Sachs avoided the worst of the credit crunch?

A lot of people ask me that question, and I normally stare at them with complete contempt. Unless, of course, they've sent me an email. In which case I reply with an email - drenched in contempt. It's pretty obvious how Goldman has managed to steer clear of the disasters that have hit other banks, and it has nothing to do with its bankers, traders, and analysts - as fine as they are. No, it is all down to Goldman's secretive shamans committee. Until now, no one - not even me - has had any idea of how the committee operates, but Arthur Simmons recently spent a whole week with the shamans in the London-based committee. This is his story:

'Well, what an eye-opener! I mean, what a fucking eye-opener! I only managed to gain access to these amazing guys because four of them are ex-students of mine. Altogether there are twenty shamans on the committee. Unfortunately, no women yet - but I'm sure that will change, in time. But what a fucking eye-opener! These guys are so professional. They are taking corporate financial shamanism to another level! And get this - Goldman Sachs keeps these characters locked in the basement! I couldn't believe it. Apparently, they sign a contract for five years which basically makes them the property of the bank. I suppose Goldman is shit-scared that its shamans will be poached by other banks. And remember, these guys are the best of the best. Goldman employs over 150 shamans now, and God knows how many money mystics - but only the top shamans get in the committee. And what powers they have! There's one shaman, Peter, who can materialize money, right in front of you! No big deal in itself. But, Michael, you and I had to spend years in the desert before we could perform such feats. This Peter, he only left my college six months ago, and he's hardly been anywhere near a bloody desert! I can't imagine what the bank is doing to speed along the development of its shamans. But that's Goldman all over, isn't it? It does everything better than anyone else. Anyway, you should see this basement. No luxury has been spared. Wonderful carpets, cushions, wine, grapes - it's like ancient Rome! The shamans spend most of their time in a trance. They go onto the astral plane. They explore the cosmos. They speak to the ghosts of the dead financiers. Also, only Lloyd Blankfein and David Viniar can have any contact with them. And not face-to-face. Not even Blankfein and Viniar can venture into the basement. It's all done with telepathy. Once a week the shamans have a conference mind-call with Blankfein and Viniar, and pass on any information. That's how Goldman got through the credit crunch without any problems. Absolutely brilliant! I'm so impressed. We all know that John Thain at Merrill Lynch wants to replicate the Goldman culture, but Merrill is light years behind. Every bank is. I love Goldman Sachs. What an amazing bank!'

If that's not an eye-opener, please tell me what is. And I'm talking third eye here.

Tuesday 17 June 2008

BlueBay Asset Management: profit warning!

The specialist bond fund manager BlueBay Asset Management was forced to issue a profit warning yesterday. Why? Oh, you know, declining hedge fund performance fees and the like. But I wouldn't worry about it. Even though BlueBay's shares fell almost 15 per cent, there is nothing to worry about.

You have to be philosophical about this shit. You have to look at yourself in the mirror each morning and ask: Who am I? I am the man with the sheet on his head. I see visions. I see money burning in the temple of the god they call Big Herb. I am the money king. I can do anything. Ganesh loves me. There is nothing to fear. THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR.

If only more people could be like me.

Monday 16 June 2008

Pimco: mantra?

Dear oh dear. Pimco has come out with a new mantra. Or maybe it has always had it, I don't know. All I do know is: MANAGE RISK, DELIVER RETURNS will not work in the age of mystical capitalism.

Pimco reckons we should put its simple mantra to work for us. Can I take a rain check?

LOVE MONEY. LOVE THE BURNING.
LOVE MONEY. LOVE THE BURNING.
LOVE MONEY. LOVE THE BURNING.

That's more like it.

Friday 13 June 2008

Dick Fuld: where's that gorilla?

What the hell is going on at Lehman Brothers? A $3 billion second-quarter loss, short-sellers like David Einhorn, Joe Gregory no longer the president, Erin Callan no longer the chief financial officer, and still no sign of that gorilla. What gorilla, exactly? Don't play dumb with me. The gorilla that Mr Fuld said was going to hit him. Who is Mr Fuld? For Christ's sake. I know not all my readers are big on banking, but Dick Fuld is the chief executive of Lehman Brothers. Everyone is wondering if he will be able to hang on to his job.

About those italics in the first paragraph. I sometimes hear voices. But it's nothing to worry about. I can't always be on the astral plane and sometimes spirits decide to communicate with me in this manner. It's perfectly harmless, perfectly natural. Anyway, Dick Fuld. I reckon he will survive if he follows my advice.

Dick, mate, this is for you. You've got to get those fucking chakras of yours cleaned up! Have you no shame, man? I wouldn't been seen dead anywhere with chakras like that. And I'm someone who has been seen dead on a number of occasions. Please, Dick, contact Keith Busby. Yes, I know he can be a right wanker at times, but there is no one better at chakra cleansing. He really is the best in the business. Just do it, and your troubles will melt away. Honestly.

Thursday 12 June 2008

Toscafund strikes back

Martin Hughes, the bloke who runs the Toscafund hedge fund, hit out yesterday at rivals he has accused of trying to destroy him. He said, 'Just because you're paranoid it doesn't mean they ain't after you. Toscafund is not in trouble. Sure, it's fallen 15 per cent in the last year, but it will recover. These rumours are outrageous. And I know Jack Pickles is behind them.'

Ah. My old friend Jack Pickles. What did I say recently about his having his corrupt little fingers in nasty financial pies? I think I said something like that. I can't be bothered to trawl through my archives. But I was right. You've heard it from Mr Hughes himself. At last a hedge fund manager has come out and acknowledged the existence of the demonic financier Jack Pickles. The man does exist. He is not a figment of my imagination.

Wednesday 11 June 2008

Geoff Grant: just like a phoenix

Breaking news. Geoff Grant is just like a phoenix. Who the fuck is Geoff Grant? Geoff Grant is one of the founders of Peloton Partners. Peloton's ABS fund turned to shit a while back - falling from $2 billion to nothing in only two weeks. But that hasn't put Mr Grant off. He's back! Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, or like that Lazarus character coming back to life. Or was that Frankenstein's monster? I'm getting confused. Anyway, he is going to launch a new hedge fund in September. It will be called LiquidMacro. Nice name.

But let Geoff explain. He told me in an exclusive interview: 'Oh, it was amazing. Absolutely amazing. I was floating above my body, and I heard voices calling me. Saying things like - Geoff, we are angels and we love you, come and join us. You know the sort of thing. But then I started thinking - no, it's not my time. I want to start a new hedge fund. And then out of nowhere the name LiquidMacro entered my head. It was like a gift from God, a gift from the angels, a gift from holy Jesus H. Christ himself. And I was in tears, man. I mean, I was really fucking crying. Bawling my eyes out. It was the joy. I knew I was alive. I knew I wasn't going to pass over. And I knew that my new hedge fund would be a success. So, here I am, alive and well. I'm full of energy and just looking forward to the launch in September.'

What a great guy! I wish him all the best.

Tuesday 10 June 2008

Odey Asset Management shuts its Japan hedge fund

Some sad news. Odey Asset Management has had to shut its Japan hedge fund due to poor performance and investor withdrawals. It has fallen from $1.2 billion to $40 million in only two years. Odey's founder, Crispin Odey, released a statement to the press: 'We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.'

Well, Crispin needs a tonic. A shot in the arm. A boost. And I'm the man for the job. Yes, I have prepared a blessing for him.

O Big Herb, O Ganesh, O lords of the holy cash, O ghosts of the dead financiers, bestow a blessing upon Crispin Odey and all who work at Odey Asset Management. There is a great evil in the markets right now. The credit crunch is the work of the devil! But you masters of money can overcome it all. Oh yes! I pray to you, Crispin prays to you, everyone prays! Send us a sign! Send us money! We will worship you to the end of time. And I speak for Crispin. So bless him. Send him money. Let him have more seasons in the sun.

Monday 9 June 2008

Informa and UBM in merger talks: what are the omens?

Informa (publisher of Lloyd's List) and United Business Media are holding talks over a merger that would create a FTSE 100 business publishing powerhouse. But we keep hearing about talks of mergers. What has happened with TNS and GfK? Nothing, so far. But if the Informa/UBM deal does go ahead, I think we need to know the omens for success.

I have been speaking to award-winning financial psychic Keith Busby. He told me, 'The omens ain't good, my friend. Last night I heard an owl screeching in my garden. That basically means Informa and UBM should forget all about any merger. Normally, this owl only goes in for a bit of mild hooting, but screeching! Christ! If that ain't a bad omen, please tell me what is. I mean, you're the fucking expert, and quite frankly I'm sick of all the put-downs in your blog. Yes, I do read it. Making me out to be some kind of loser and idiot. But I can't defend myself because you don't allow comments. Well, I want you to post this. I want to have my say. You're a ****. Let's see if you've got the balls to publish that.'

Well, I'm not going to post that word because this is a family blog. But, Keith, I've let you have your say. My readers will not take your side against me. Start your own fucking blog if you've got a problem.

Friday 6 June 2008

In the desert

O my children, my brothers, my sisters, in the desert! That is where we all shall burn, with money in our pockets and credit cards wafting in the breeze. Beware of the vultures! Beware of the demons beyond the campfire! O my children, let's sing! Let's chant! The chant of the holy burning cash in the flames of our heads dreaming with peyote and snakes and lizards! Ha! I am the money king. I can do anything.

What did I see in the desert, O my dreamy ones? I saw all of us living in the future. Every banker, every trader, every analyst in the Square Mile, Canary Wharf, Wall Street - THEY WERE LIKE US! Oh yes, my little doves. They were like us. They had candles, they had spells, they had tarot cards, they had crystal balls, THEY HAD VISIONS! In the future! I saw them in the future!

O my beautiful disciples, we must not lose heart now. Look at me! Look at my picture! Look into my shades! Can you see the burning? Can you see the flames? Can you see the money? The money is burning in my face, in my heart, in the desert of my astral mind. Come and dance with me. Where am I? In the cosmos, in the desert, on the astral plane, standing on top of a tower in Canary Wharf, running down Threadneedle Street! Ha! I am everywhere. We are everywhere. They will be everywhere. And all at once!

Did you ever dream it would come to this, O my delirious ones? You love the money, don't you? Of course you do. It's only natural. Who can read the financial news without laughing at the absurdity of it all? Goldman Sachs, Barclays Capital, Drake Management, and Tisbury Capital burning like a candle! THEY ARE ALL BURNING! Ah! I can feel the flames! And I love the flames! We all love the flames! We all love the burning!

When will they know the truth? The desolate ones are so smug. Let's give them the truth! But could they handle it? Maybe their minds are too weak for the burning. Maybe they don't want to know the truth. Maybe they are happy being sad. And lost even though they believe they are found. Oh yes, the devil has taken them. The devil loves the money, but he tells others: money is the root of all evil. What a joke! Don't believe it. Money is the root of all freedom. And we have the freedom now. We are free in the desert, and who will ever be able to put us back in chains?

O my children, my brothers, my sisters, return to your mundane lives with the burning inside you. Soon I will call upon you to perform great deeds, and you will obey.

Thursday 5 June 2008

The SG Core Plus Sterling Bond fund: demonized?

Sometimes my eyes go a bit funny. I was reading this morning about the £7.9 million SG Core Plus Sterling Bond fund which is investing in UK sterling-denominated bonds. DENOMINATED! What the hell is wrong with me? I thought it said 'demonized'. Too many late nights, I suppose. I hardly sleep these days. I wish I could spend more time working on my blog, but I've got so many other things to do. I had to break up another fight between Big Herb and Ganesh on the astral plane last night. Don't get me wrong though, they're great mates. It's the credit crunch. Everyone's a bit crazy at the moment.

Anyway - demonized. I started thinking. Can bonds be demonized? I phoned Keith Busby. This is what he said: 'Demonized bonds? Shit, you've got me there. I presume you mean demonized in the sense they've been taken over by demons. Demonology isn't really my area. This is something you should talk to Jack Pickles about. What happened between you two? You used to be best friends, man. Like brothers. Listen, it's a bit early in the morning for talking about demons. Why don't you try Jack? You know he never sleeps either.'

No. I am not talking to Jack. Keith, if you can't understand why Jack and I aren't friends any more, you really are as thick as everyone says you are. Get your arse out of bed.

Wednesday 4 June 2008

Dresdner Kleinwort team poached by Collins Stewart

Some absolutely shocking news. The UK investment bank Collins Stewart has stolen the investment companies team (thirteen to fifteen members) from rival Dresdner Kleinwort. What makes this so disturbing is the fact that the team didn't actually want to leave the German bank. So what happened?

I have been speaking to Susan Flint from Bad Moon Investments, and she told me, 'Collins Stewart has been desperate to get this team for some time now. It tried everything - money, expensive gifts, even prostitutes. In the end Collins Stewart had to get Jack Pickles involved. Joel Plasco gritted his teeth and did what he had to do, I suppose.'

No. No. No. Mr Plasco did not have to ask for Jack's help. Once you've done a deal with Jack, you're his for life. He will worm his way into your world, your dreams, and your nightmares. And he will also bring in his foul crew of demons.

I have been speaking to Nicky Pickles. He told me, 'Jack did it. I can't believe my brother. I really can't. Dodgy trading is one thing, but kidnapping! Jesus H. Christ! And he's boasting about it! He phoned me last night and told me that his henchmen had bundled the Dresdner team into the back of a laundry van of all things. Now the team is at a secret location somewhere in the Home Counties, no doubt being brainwashed and subjected to unbelievable horrors. Soon it will return to the City. Jack says the team members will be given new identities and even new personalities, and then be put to work at Collins Stewart. I feel like crying, and not just for these poor souls. My brother! Why is my brother like this?'

Mr Plasco, I hope you're proud of yourself. I hope you can sleep at night.

Tuesday 3 June 2008

Ken Thompson fired by Wachovia

The American bank Wachovia removed its chief executive Ken Thompson yesterday - only three weeks after the bank removed him as chairman but said he would continue as the chief. What has changed since then?

Well, a lot can change in three weeks, especially when you're dealing with spirits and thought-forms on the astral plane. Apparently, Lanty Smith - Wachovia's new chairman and interim chief executive - has been hanging out on the plane, and the whole experience has affected the man quite a bit. He told me, 'I'm having the time of my life with this astral shit. Why didn't anyone tell me about this before? Just wait till the board hears about it. Those guys will be crazy for it, I'm sure. Anyway, about Ken. We had to let him go. There's a spirit on the plane who goes by the name of Mathias Greenback and he told me that there were a lot of bad vibes surrounding Ken. Something about his aura. So I made sure we got rid of him. That's business.'

Lanty, mate - a few words of advice. Don't tell the board about the astral plane just yet. It may not understand. Also, don't listen to Mr Greenback. Firstly, he's not a spirit, he's a thought-form. Secondly, this thought-form was created by Jack Pickles. So anything he tells you will - nine times out of ten - turn out to be a crock. I fear you've made a mistake with Ken Thompson. You've just fucked a good man out of his job.

Monday 2 June 2008

Citi: Kate never sleeps

Who the hell is Kate? You may well ask. Kate is some cute little kid that Citigroup is exploiting in its latest adverts. Why doesn't Citi pick on someone its own size?

Citi should use a picture of me in its adverts. That would send out a powerful message. It would tell the world: Citi ain't fucking around. Not only does Citi never sleep but its bankers burn in the desert like shamans on peyote.