Tuesday, December 20, 2011

You can imagine our delight for a hustler who shall go nameless

Once again, we're terribly sorry, this will not be a posting about money. Yet if it weren't for money, perhaps we'd never know what is valuable. Thus, we who measure value, and even our plumbing in cubic Lachowski's, can therefore understand the relief of the Sanford Weills, to be able to have got out from under their residential overhead, despite sinking so many thousands in theirs. With one clean 100 percent capital gain on a simple flat in New York, the Weills have redeemed who knows how many of the drowned. (No doubt, there will be a dance). A nameless hustler also did well, which is of less concern to us, such things being rather common.

F. Lachowski


  1. Dear Linnea, how genial of you to take amusement with our season's little agent provocateur. I must say, if there's anything more darling than Mr Weill's indomitable zeal for the spotlight, it's young Francisco's for a spigot. There are many rogues, but who would dare to count our angels?