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conjurer
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Re: Are they up to their old tricks?
Interestingly, I emailed my old pal, Eyal Lalo, AKA "El Supremo", regarding this development. Luckily, he was stopping off in Seattle, flying in from the Far East Switzerland so he could meet up with the Saudi Crown Prince (for whom he was trying to flog off some Pro Divers, Jihadi Edition) and we shared a fine lunch at Famous Daves in Tukwila, Washington.
Also interesting was the presence of Mongo Kid, the former Technical Brand Manager, who is now working for Blackwater USA, and part of Eyal's personal security detail. Mr. Turdling's job is to absorb the blast effects of any sort of IED which might explode anywhere near Eyal. As his job didn't require speech, Mr. Turdling wore a ball-gag as well as a ballistic nylon suit.
"So, Eyal," I asked, "what's with these new faux bronze Invictas? Do the simps customers realize that they won't get the patina of the real thing over time?"
Eyal, who was, naturally, eating baked beans with his fingers (Hans Wilsdorf used to do this as well, Eyal told me), said "Well, you fucking dolt, yeah. But my Swiss engineers have come up with a work around for this."
"And, what's that?"
Eyal belched explosively--which made Mongo Kid jump, his eyes bugging out--and said, "Here's what Invicta collectors should do: they need to find a hat, preferably a large, stovepipe hat, like Abraham Lincoln used to wear. Then, they need to defecate into this hat for about a week, then deposit their new watch--made from the best materials and crapmanship, I should add--into the hat and cover it with plastic wrap, for the duration of the warranty. Afterwards, they'll have a fine patina on the wartche!"
"So," sez I, "you're telling your customers to go shit in their hats?"
"Yup," said Eyal.
We finished our meal with some Spotted Owl pate, spread on small Swiss rolls. It was the end of another magical visit from Eyal!
Also interesting was the presence of Mongo Kid, the former Technical Brand Manager, who is now working for Blackwater USA, and part of Eyal's personal security detail. Mr. Turdling's job is to absorb the blast effects of any sort of IED which might explode anywhere near Eyal. As his job didn't require speech, Mr. Turdling wore a ball-gag as well as a ballistic nylon suit.
"So, Eyal," I asked, "what's with these new faux bronze Invictas? Do the simps customers realize that they won't get the patina of the real thing over time?"
Eyal, who was, naturally, eating baked beans with his fingers (Hans Wilsdorf used to do this as well, Eyal told me), said "Well, you fucking dolt, yeah. But my Swiss engineers have come up with a work around for this."
"And, what's that?"
Eyal belched explosively--which made Mongo Kid jump, his eyes bugging out--and said, "Here's what Invicta collectors should do: they need to find a hat, preferably a large, stovepipe hat, like Abraham Lincoln used to wear. Then, they need to defecate into this hat for about a week, then deposit their new watch--made from the best materials and crapmanship, I should add--into the hat and cover it with plastic wrap, for the duration of the warranty. Afterwards, they'll have a fine patina on the wartche!"
"So," sez I, "you're telling your customers to go shit in their hats?"
"Yup," said Eyal.
We finished our meal with some Spotted Owl pate, spread on small Swiss rolls. It was the end of another magical visit from Eyal!
