After the bell, JACK is due to report earnings. It can go either way. On one hand, their murder burger division may follow along the road to riches that SONC traveled on. However, the other road may lead it to a dark Mexican city, the same path traveled by CMG, and get eaten by cartel sewer rats.
To be frank, I have no idea how it will play out. I leave it to the Gods, to either smile upon me or smite me into embarrassment.
I look at JACK in the Box and I wind it up. When the JACK pops out tonight, it will either knife me in the face, or bestow great treasures to me. There will be no middle ground. By tonight I will either be a giant JACKASS or I will be swimming in a Knight Capital-esque JACKPOT.
Separately, the market is flat; but I am getting absolutely poleaxed into submission. My boat had small holes in it earlier, superficial in nature and substance. I opted to ignore them and eat sandwiches instead. Now those small, baby bitch, holes have grown in size and threaten to capsize the HMS Fly Will Fuck Your Shit Up battleship. At the present, despite my 15% cash position, I am down 1.6% for the day, led by asshole action in VHC, TEA, EXK, DECK and CTRP.
I’m having my cock-gobbled off by killer Turkeys. There are zombies everywhere and I don’t have any weapons to defend myself with, only the shards from my own broken bones. If need be, I will snap my arm off and use the shard to impale invading zombies. However, I am hoping to make it out of this fucking rakish city with limbs intact.
Calming down, thinking clearly, I have another play setting up, something that may offer significant upside, soon to be revealed upon confirmation by the celestial overlords.
Until then, I’m all about that JACK-ass lifestyle.