( published 12th March 2002 )
I've told you I used to be a foreign exchange trader in a former life. This was back in Luxembourg, and I realise that it was a real good time because most of my then colleagues are receiving this morning mail ( a good time for me, don't know for them ):
- Marianne, who is on holiday ( NICE HOOOLIDAY - SEEEEEND ME A POOOOSTCAAAAARD....)
- Marko aka Papa Rossi. He is a great guy, he told me once I was a real oily little wanker,...aaaah good old Papa Rossi.
- Christiane, who is the only "survivor" in the bank, and who should wonder where the fuck are the CDs I ordered on her behalf here in the UK 3 months ago through the TV shop channel ( 10 days delivery, ooops ). But don't worry, you don't have the CDs but they have your credit card details...
- My brother Jose, who is not my brother. At a reception a broker asked us if we were twins...no we said...still, his comment, weird to have 2 brothers starting in the same bank same year. Wanker! ( I'm better looking anyway )
- Then there is Jeff, good old Jeff, who was our junior trader, and as sitting in the middle of the room, would get all the shit ( frustrations, divorces, bad bets, bad positions, bad sex ) from all the others day in day out...but he was always in a good mood
- Then our Danish dynamite Ole, poor him, he never reads my morning mail, but never dares telling me to fuck off and stop sending them ( like many others by the way )
- And finally, cherry on the cake, good old Guy, aka "Dreckschaack"...a very nice guy in private life, but a complete wanker professionally speaking. But thanks to you expressions like "...close the door, but from the outside...", "Go with God, but go", "...WE ARE NOT A SOCIAL INSTITUTION HERE.." and the famous "Du Uuuuaaaarschlaaach" sound now like music in my ears...but not back then! Well, I promise not to pour water over your chair anymore next time we meet, hehe...
Oooops, too long e-mail again... shit shit shit! Tomorrow: the moneybrokers, hehehe Mike, Neil, Lars, watch out!!!
Have a nice day
For my Finnish friends:
"It"s the first day of school and the teacher thought she"d get to know the
kids by asking them their name and what their father does for a living.
The first little girl says: "My name is Mary and my daddy is a postman."
The next little boy says: "I"m Andy and my dad is a mechanic."
Then one little boy says: "My name is Jimmy and my father is a striptease
dancer in a cabaret for gay men."
The teacher gasps and quickly changes the subject, but later in the school
yard the teacher approaches Jimmy privately and asks if it was really true
that his dad dances nude in a gay bar.
He blushed and said, "I"m sorry but my dad plays hockey for Sweden, and I
was just too embarrassed to say so".