Julian Emanuel means absolutely nothing to me. His words are like a pebble bouncing off a hardened mountain — whose exterior is the result of thousands of years of glacial movements and volcanic eruptions — primordial ongoings if I might be so bold.
He’s obviously without cocaine and needlessly pedantic with his obsequious attacks upon the markets. If I was an analyst at UBS, getting paid for being wrong, I’d do so in non-gay flamboyantly absurd fashion. If bearish, I’d costume myself to look and appear to be ghoulish — vampire-like clad with a ghostly pallor — draped in a black-black cape and bespoke leather gloves. I’d declare the market to be dead, whilst glaring with dead eyes into the lens of the camera, into a transfixed audience whose only whim or idle thought in the back of their subconscious was ‘who the fuck is this man and why is he here to damage me?’
My price target for the S&P would be zero, not a penny more. I’d paint a very vivid picture of nuclear submarines refueling off the coast of Minsk (obviously a landlocked city to those not of the idiot genre) en route directly to Washington DC — where the Russian fleet would declare its intentions to obliterate the White House from the map — all with one fell swoop — tactical nuclear detonations reverberating around the nation like they were jumping jacks on the 4th of July.
I’d declare ‘the bust of Martin Luther King would be removed from the White House, permanently, as well as all living forms of life withing a 100-mile radius of Mike Pence’s study.’
Instead, we get Mr. Emanuel, a man with the likeness of a person I once lent money and never received any repayment or form of retribution. He’s calling for a flaccid and entirely uneventful 5-10%, boring, garden variety, pullback, at which point he declared would represent a magnanimous buying opportunity.
To hell with that advice.
Be long and strong gents. The winds are decidedly westerly and there’s nothing that can ever stop the markets from obtaining peak velocity, showering all participants with gratuitous amounts of superfluous and capricious amounts of gains — to be spent on illegal narcotics and vast quantities of rare spirits and wines to be absorbed by the protein of known to be near extinct and very expensive animals.
We will eat all of the panda bears — and there’s nothing you or any of your stupid friends can do about it.
Observe. Idiocy.
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The world will only remember the guy who gets it right. The penalty for getting it wrong is….there is no penalty. So all of these so-called analysts make these asinine predictions in the hope that they finally call it right. They want to become the stuff of legend but they are no better than fleas on my dog’s ass.
If I had a stable of horses, I’d raise them to bite Julian Emanuel.
that was damn funny, the write up not the loon tune
“why is he trying to damage me”
lolololol
The only correction coming is this guys name. Everyone’s getting it wrong. Its not Julian Emanuel, its LAME FAGGOT.
He should be fired for the simple fact that he has no neck.
Sorry Julian, we only want tuna that tastes good.