BURN IN HELL; STOCKS ARE BORING

To all of you libtards drooling over yourselves with hurt feelings because of the content on this site: GO FUCK YOURSELVES. Your small pea brains could see this and still come out saying no one got shot in the head. You have walking around, retard level IQs, perfectly willing to elect a corporate mercenary regime because you think she’s progressive. There isn’t a liberal party in this god damned country. They’re all neocons, all the time, all the way.

But that’s not what I decided to talk about this evening. It’s a matter of principle that you understand my motivation. This is a once in a fucking life time opportunity to lampoon these knuckle-draggers — siphoning content from their personal emails, exposing their pebble sized brains. They’re savage criminals and I’d like them to leave my country.

Also, if you haven’t noticed, the market is so fucking boring. It’s like watching paint dry, while atomic bombs and drunken bar fights are happening down the block. Would you rather I discuss the set ups in the trannies, or talk about JOHN FUCKING HARWOOD and his homosexual proclivities towards JOHN PODESTA? This is all very classic stuff for me.

there’s a penis on this chart

Also, might I add, iBC is my sole concern now. I threw away that annoying 7 figure occupation that I had for 18 years and decided to talk to the people, full time. There’s a chaotic honor in that. I’ve been blessed with the gift to create great prose, a genetic advantage of mine — being that I am a direct descendent of a world class writer.

Pardon my superfluities. I have a penchant for becoming obsessed with things. I’ve gone through fixations that have lasted years, like the time I quit coffee for earl grey tea, or the time I only listened to classical music, or 1940s jazz, or reading every classic piece of literature ever made, or reading random essays by the greats, or watching more than 500 movies for two years in a row, or stocks, algorithms, financial tools, writing blogs, smoking pipes and learning about tobacco, martinis, watches, balsamic fucking vinegar, high end extra virgin olive oil, the art of coffee, fitness, bio-hacking, acquiring wealth, acquiring clients, firing clients, reading and collecting old newspapers and first edition books, watching documentaries and biopics, astrology, horticulture, architecture, the robber barons, wine — the list goes on and on and on.

I am not your ordinary finance writer, so don’t expect me to behave in a conventional method. I am here to win the culture wars, in the most heinous of fashions.

Plus anyway, have you seen the traffic charts for some of the finance sites out there? Absolutely dreadful.

In about a fortnight, the election will be over and the markets will begin to cascade lower — as the H. Clinton regime prepares to seize power. All of the nuclear missiles in Vlad Putin’s arsenal will be shined up and fueled — readying to depart for US of A (extra Borat). As a planetary species, we probably have like 6 months left before the roaches take over, so pardon me as I indulge myself in the election of a lifetime — the all-time match between the orange pussy grabbing clown versus the head on a stick balloon gawker — a political carnivale hastened and fortified by hacked emails and the most egregious under cover videos the world has ever seen.

 

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