Muggsy Bogues

OK what is it tonight?
Please just tell me what the hell is wrong,
Do you want to eat, do you want to sleep, do you want to drown?
Just settle down, settle down, settle down…
I’ll give you candy, give you diamonds, give you pills,

Give you anything you want, hundred dollar bills,
I’ll even let you watch the shows you want to see,
Just marry me, marry me, marry me…

I’m so sick of you tonight,
You never stay awake when I get home,
Is something wrong with me, something wrong with you?

I really wish I knew, wish I knew, wish I knew…
I give you candy, give you diamonds, give you pills,
I give you anything you want, hundred dollar bills,
I even let you watch the shows you want to see,
Because you married me, married me, married me…
Married me, married me, married me…

I was young I learned a game,
That love and happiness were the same,
And now I’m older and I don’t play,
I found out the hardest way,
I got wasted, she got mad, called me names and she called her dad,
He got crazy and I did too, wondering what I did to you.

I gave you candy, gave you diamonds, gave you pills,
I gave you anything you want, hundred dollar bills,
I even let you hear the songs I wanna sing
I’ll give you anything, anything, anything…
I’ll give you anything, anything, anything…
I’ll give you anything, anything, anything…
Anything…
Anything…
Anything…

“Anything Anything” – Dramarama

——

Bain & Co. packed the house in the largest amphi earlier this evening, followed by a shoulder-to-shoulder hosted bar event at the Fontainebleau Chateau. This was the first top-tier consulting firm to come to campus this week, if you don’t count Roland Berger. AT Kearney and Accenture are on for tomorrow night, and the biggest bad-ass of them all, McKinsey & Co., is slated for Friday night. It was a tad surreal, sipping champagne in a marble-pillared room decked out with more cherubic statues than you can shake a stick at, while trying to look comfortable in “business attire,” and schmooze at the same time. What would Napolean think about all these nutjobs standing in his hallway?
I haven’t seen so many MBAs running around in suits since, well, our P1/P2, when the previous intake were in the thick of their recruiting season. It’s amazing how behavior shifts in the context of a cocktail party cum recruiting event. Trying to get in a word edgewise with a consulting firm partner at one of these gigs is like trying to post up with Patrick Ewing, Shaq and Yao Ming running interference. Polite elbows get thrown, petite folk get edged out, and the loudest, most dandruff-laden types, who inevitably sport the most poorly cut suits you’ll ever see, usually end up monopolizing most of the airtime. I’m not complaining, I’m just “telling it like it is,” to quote the Bain presentation. See, I’m the perfect fit for that firm. Maybe I should put this on my CV, like a fellow INSEAD blogger has chosen to do. But he actually gets traffic.

There’s so much on my mind, and so many things to do, not the least of which the brick of reading for PIM tomorrow and it’s already past midnight. I should really get on that, and get in to bed. Better yet, I’ll do both at the same time. But before I forget, I’ve been asked to start a fan-club for myself. Step right up and sign on the dotted line. You can be the inaugural member.

Chastity

I saw her today at a reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

No, you can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need

I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she was gonna meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need

Oh yeah, hey hey hey, oh…

And I went down to the demonstration
To get my fair share of abuse
Singing, “We’re gonna vent our frustration
If we don’t we’re gonna blow a 50-amp fuse”
Sing it to me now…

You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you just might find
You get what you need
Oh baby, yeah, yeah!

I went down to the Chelsea drugstore
To get your prescription filled
I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
And man, did he look pretty ill
We decided that we would have a soda
My favorite flavor, cherry red
I sung my song to Mr. Jimmy
Yeah, and he said one word to me, and that was “dead”
I said to him

You can’t always get what you want, no!
You can’t always get what you want (tell ya baby)
You can’t always get what you want (no)
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You get what you need
Oh yes! Woo!

You get what you need–yeah, oh baby!
Oh yeah!

I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands

You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need

You can’t always get what you want (no, no baby)
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need, ah yes…

“You Can’t Always Get What You Want” – Rolling Stones

Live in Paris, ‘76

——

Hump day!  No projects (aka impending doom) due, for the moment.  Dragon Week party this Friday.  Alcohol-fueled, day-long Market Driving Strategies marathon on Saturday.  Not too shabby.

Welcome back to the blogosphere, Res I(p)sa.  Your cheery outlook has been missed.  Hope you plan on sticking around.

Today is a new day.

Vendre

Every time I think of you
I get a shot right through
Into a bolt of blue
It’s no problem of mine
But it’s a problem I find
Living the life that I can’t leave behind
There’s no sense in telling me
The wisdom of a fool won’t set you free
But that’s the way that it goes
And it’s what nobody knows
And every day my confusion grows

Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for the final moment
You say the words that I can’t say
I feel fine and I feel good
I feel like I never should

Whenever I get this way
I just don’t know what to say
Why can’t we be ourselves like we were yesterday
I’m not sure what this could mean
I don’t think you’re what you seem
I do admit to myself
That if I hurt someone else
Then I’ll never see just what we’re meant to be

Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for the final moment
You’ll say the words that I can’t say
Every time I see you falling
I’ll get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for the final moment
You’ll say the words that I can’t say

“Bizarre Love Triangle” – New Order

I can’t believe I haven’t posted this yet. It’s one of my most favorite of favoritest songs. It’s almost the most bestest there is. You’ve got to excuse me; the head’s probably still a bit groggy. You know, too much Kool-Aid and all.

<3 80’s snyth-pop.

So according to Dorothy, the lyrics I post “don’t help new students at all.” Except for Cyndi Lauper, of course. Well, thank the god of groundhogs that there are bloggers like Necromonger around to take care of that underserved market segment. They’re a little too panic-elastic for my price point.

——

I think I’ve fallen in love…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…with the vending machines on campus. Not just any ol’ vending machine, mind you, but the “special” ones which dispense delicious hot beverages. The convenience of being able to get a cappuccino, mocha, hot chocolate or even tomato soup in a little plastic cup with nothing more than 0.40 cents in your pocket is fantastic. I mean, this ranks up there with hot breakfasts and a thriving second-hand book market. Unfortunately neither of these exist here in our little bubble, but one can only wish for so much at any one time, right? “Ixnay for wishing for more wishes!”

So yeah, the library gets really boring at this time of night. I wish the rest of these bookworms would go home so I could streak through the stacks. First one to get from America-Abacus to O.E.C.D.-Omega without getting nailed by the shade-on-the-portly side security guard wins a little steaming hot cup of hot cocoa! Seriously though, what’s up with the late-night crowd here? It’s like Cheers, only with overly-studious faces, and devoid of beer, Ted, and people who know your name. I think I’ll start working at home again, but doing that brings up a whole other grain silo of problems.

But I shall not dwell on these, for tomorrow is a new day.

Tree

I am just a poor boy, though my story is seldom told.
I have squandered my resistance,
For a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises.
All lies and jest.
Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.

When I left my home and my family I was no more than a boy,
In the company of strangers,
In the quiet of the railway station, runnin’ scared.
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters,
Where the ragged people go.
Lookin’ for the places, only they would know.

Lie-da-lie …

Asking only workman’s wages I come lookin’ for a job,
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue.
I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome,
I took some comfort there.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la.

(Instrumental break)

Li da li …

And I’m laying out my winter clothes, and wishing I was gone, goin’ home
Where the New York City winters aren’t bleedin’ me, leadin’ me goin’ home.

In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade,
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down,
Or cut him ’til he cried out in his anger and his shame,
“I am leaving, I am leaving.”
But the fighter still remains, still remains.

Lie-da-lie …

“The Boxer” – Simon and Garfunkel

——

Decorated Tree Liberation Front, it’s about damn time you got out of the way. After nine months of slogging through the morass of random text known as the internet (or this blog), I’ve finally become, uh, Reagent of the Mountain for the Google search term “DTLF”!

Woohoo!

I’m not sure which fairy godmother I should sprinkle angel dust on, or which golden alpaca statue I’m obliged to sacrifice a chicken to, but someone’s gettin’ something nice, in light of the search ranking progression and the fact that it’s now Thursday, which means that this crazy week is almost over.

One more giant project due on Friday for Market Driving Strategies, which requires all sorts of Excel wand-waving to conjure up some arcane revenue graphs, and tea-leaf divining to peer in to the murky future to determine our fictional firm’s fortunes, and then I’m free! Well, at least for a day, before I start thinking about all of the work I’ve consciously neglected for the past fortnight, and all the work that’s coming due in the next. But the work will get done. It always does, and you know it. That whole sleep thing, however, may be a problem.

02:21

Queue up another chicken.

Today is a new day.

Malade

“Sorry, we don’t allow animals in our hotel rooms. Yes, that means possums.”

<cut>

“Wow, breaking into the apartments of the Ming emperor sure is hard. Why does he have to live so high up anyway?”

<cut>

“That’ll teach you. Never get into a firefight with a gun shop owner.”

<cut>

“I really need to stop going to the sauna before bed.”

<cut>

At this point I wake up and discover that I’m swimming in sweat and stuck to my sheets. There’s really nothing like illness so all-consuming that it causes delirium. I just hope I’m not the SARS/H5N1/Superflu vector. Wouldn’t that be a shitty way to score a Wikipedia entry?

So the FNGs are on campus, looking as innocent, fresh and doe-eyed as we did four short months ago. They’ve attended an introductory business lecture delivered by Gareth Long-Winded Dyas, made the acquaintance of the infamous Arthur Keller, and survived Welcome Week, Outward Bound and all.

But now comes the true test. No, not whether they can rub their bellies and pat their heads at the same time (though that should be required for admittance into INSEAD), but whether they can juggle their livers and the workload of their first “real” week of class.  3:2 says I witness a group explosion in the Upper Gallery within the next 9 days.  Any takers?

So how was everyone’s holiday? Apparently Res I(p)sa is still on break, since we haven’t heard a peep out of her in weeks…

 

Examen

So the first two exams have come and gone.  Only four (I can’t count) three more left to go before the much-awaited 4-day break.  More to come when I can once again differentiate between my fingers and toes.

Welcome, all you D08 bloggers.  You’ve all been linked.  Now share the traffic love.

Exciting, isn’t it?  I remember those pre-INSEAD days.  Oh, the fond memories of three months ago.  Enjoy it while you still have a minute to call your own, and see some of you on campus soon!

Frosty

Congratulations to Le Blog de Hog for unseating Necromonger as the #1 search result on Google for “INSEAD 2008 blog.”

I on the other hand, can’t even get to #1 for “DTLF.”  Google is obviously broken.

On a totally unrelated note, here’s another tip for you D08’s:  Pack warm.