Let the Good Times Roll, Unabated; Also, Tales From My Vacation

From my locale in the northeast region of the United States, hailing from the land of schools, I bring all of you happy tidings and well wishes, as I lay slumbered in a corner sun burnt to a charred cinder. It was always a habit of mine, an avocation even, to ensure that my body had a sufficient amount of color, provided by the sun. I’ve never been obsessive to the point of, let’s say, George Hamilton or John Boehner. But I made it a point to build an immunity to the harsh celestial rays in order to possess a healthy look and to avoid classic white man’s folly, which starts and ends with oversunning and becoming charred, like a moron-idiot–until now.

I’ve been too busy to venture out much this summer and have instead crept about the house, creepily, writing stories of doom and spreading fear across America. This new lifestyle has produced a wantonly milkish tone in Le Fly, an Elmer’s Glue like quality, that when exposed to the sun becomes crisped and blackened, like a smoked trout.

After gallivanting about the beach community, a very sleepy town, a mix of well to do episcopalians still loyal to the crown and half baked meth heads walking around like zombies, I find myself now a bit burnt.

Aside from that, I had a great day, walking around and eating fish, purchasing trinkets and becoming one with the ocean.

I saw the markets went higher today and a great lot of you did very well indeed, circling the toilet bowl for good stocks, grabbing them right out from the coriolis effect and eating them whole.

The Fed doesn’t want to hike rates. Surprise, surprise. But the best place for your money isn’t in stocks, dare I say. The ark, aka government bonds, are the single biggest beneficiary of an easy Fed.

When I tell you that bonds are the best play, it isn’t because they represent the best opportunity. Forget about that. My entire career was built upon mountains of risk, playing with sticks of dynamite inside of gunpowder factories. Now that I’m semi retired at the age of 40, have a few dollars tucked away and a good enough investment portfolio to make most people irate with jealously, I’m more interested in the highest percentage win, not the biggest return. By my calculations, there is a far greater chance of making money in bonds, supported by central bank schemes, than in stocks. It’s a lay up, as far as I’m concerned. If the QE ends, so will my bond positions.

At any rate, tomorrow I fully intend to swim out to punch some sharks in their faces. I spied their stupid fins today and became quite annoyed by them. Therefore, tomorrow I intend to do something about it. Should I get eaten by said sharks tomorrow, just know, “The Fly” died a champion, a hero amongst sun bathers and ocean swimmers everywhere. Monuments will be forged from copper with my likeness, being shredded to pieces by a fucking hammerhead, whilst punching out the black eyes of a murderous villain with Herculean qualities.