Did you ever read ‘American Psycho’? Its one of the very few books I started and in a very un-Mastermindish way, I didn’t finish. Brett Easton Ellis’ tale of a sick yuppy puppy. A highly successful banker in New York who in his spare time liked to torture and kill women. The book was a cross between the Goldman Sacks handbook and the power-tools brochure from B&Q. The ‘hero’ used all manner of increasingly sick and brutal ways to kill his women, lured to his appartment by his good looks and platinum Amex card. Chain saws, power drills, hedge trimmers, even one of those really annoying leaf-blowers, all used to cause maximum pain and suffering on his victims. Sick fucking dude. Sick fucking book. Unless your name is Rurik Jutting. Which at first I thought was a medical condition curable only by orthopedic intervention.

But was this man, who brutally murdered and butchered two lovely women in his own home, a sad case of life imitating art? Or just more quite compelling evidence that all investment bankers are closet psychos and thus are all a similar tragedy waiting to happen? In fact all bankers seem to be thus afflicted. Its probably genetic. The same DNA that requires you to live your life as a parasitic bottom-feeder making billions at the expense of absolutely everyone else, that commands a greed culture not otherwise seen except in sharks, that DNA creates a desire to mangle up the flesh of women. In which case forget ISIS, we need to worry about bankers. Eat one today. Save the planet. And start with the ex-pats; the most dangerous of all.

And no sooner did I mention my new-found love of Bournemouth FC, stated right here, just 3 days ago, a team I’d never heard of until 3 weeks before, than they go top of their table. They are Championship Champions. For now at least. And in football, as in life, ‘now’ is all that matters. How could this happen? A team previously only famous for ‘being near where Harry Rednap lives’ has vaulted the expectations of their competitors and gone to their rightful place at the summit. Poised, in just a few short 6 months, to make the final leap to stardom, fame and fortune that is the Premiership. Of course, a lot of water must travel under the pier before that moment should come, but I’m confident my newly-promoted 7th best favorite team in my whole world can do what needs to be done.

Must be better than going to Arsenal and suffering all that disappointment.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx