Here’s My First Topic for My First Short Story

I think the most interesting aspect of my early career was the time in which it happened, at the nascency of the dot com bubble. I was very lucky in that regard; but before I was able to enjoy the fruits of perfidy, I first had to deal with two market dislocations, one in 1997 and again in 1998, the latter having a breath taking and profound impact on both my harrowing fall and eventual rise.

As some of you know, I’ve decided to self publish via Amazon. I have an essay up there now, which is really just a placeholder. I intend to do more rigorous work there, documenting the things I bore witness to in the business since 1997.

I will be basing my first story, which will likely be in the ball park of 10,000-20,000 words — based off this series of posts that I published here many years ago. I’ll probably expand a lot upon my “Important Matter” posts, especially some like Ghetto Fabulous, which is a crowd favorite.

Why am I doing this and why on Amazon?

It’s simply not feasible to publish stories of that size here. Through Amazon, I could reach a much larger audience, gracing depraved people from the darkest corners of the earth with my eloquent prose.

Thus far, I’m about 7,000 words deep. I’ll probably finish up over the next week or two and then publish to Amazon. Here’s a brief snippet of a rough draft.

My Grandfather died and I was distraught with grief. I was 22 years of age, with a 1 year old baby and wife at home in a basement apartment in Brooklyn, trying to make my way on Wall Street as a stockbroker. I grew up in a middle class neighborhood in Flatlands, Brooklyn, raised by a single Mother with the assistance from my Grandparents. My Father had been shot and killed when I was four. Grandfather was all I knew about being a man, treating people with and demanding respect — but he had his issues, namely with his temperament.

My Mother used to tell me he had been physically abusive when she was younger — but I never saw that side of him. After losing most of his vision at 69, Grandfather stood at home a lot — brooding, no longer able to work with his hands; therefore, he and my Grandmother become poor, almost overnight.

When he was younger, he had his own furniture refinishing business, employed a handful of people, and provided for his family to the best of his abilities. He wasn’t the smartest man I’ve ever know, or the most talented, but I loved him the most.

Needless to say, when he died, my mind was going through a significant shock. The specter of never seeing him again seemed like a dream, a bad one. The firm I had been working at was a step above a bucket shop — a second rate house filled with second rate people. Without the benefit of hindsight, I had no way of knowing which firms were any good back then. Back in the late 90s, boiler rooms were as common as Starbucks in Manhattan. I’d regularly bump into people I knew in High School, trouble makers mostly, all trying their hand at some fast money on Wall Street. If you had decent social skills and knew how to spin a yarn, making money through telephone solicitations was like taking candy from a baby.

My first month on my own, after the mandatory apprenticeship, I made $12,500 in commissions. Total take home pay was in the ballpark of $4,500. It was all the money in the world to me and my young family. Previous to that, I was sustaining on a weekly cold callers salary of $200 per week before taxes. I had never known true poverty, desperation, until I was on my own trying to provide for two others.

My sales manager was a man named Peter — a burly Irishman who was long on work ethic, short on talent. He was in charge of the apprenticeship program, filled with a diverse group of amateur stockbrokers all trying to get rich in what was the beginning of the dot com craze.

Some of us worked a lot harder than others. The gent who sat in front of me, Mr. Lee, had recently migrated from China. He’d spend most of his time inquiring into the business of others, taking long lunch breaks visiting brothels, and sparingly calling Chinese restaurant owners in an attempt to drum up some business.

My desk was right in front of Peter’s office. I was situated with a window to the right of me, Mr. Lee in front, and my good pal Joe to the left. Joe was a heavy set Italian from the Bronx, with a thick NY accent, and a heart made of gold. He resembled someone you might see cast in the Sopranos or any number of mafia related movies that we’ve all grown accustomed to mocking. On a daily basis, Joe and I would work together on pitching stock to total strangers, hoping to land a big enough client to justify the long, tedious, hours we spent at the office.

A typical day at the office was non-stop telephone solicitations, from 8am to as late as midnight. We’d organize the leads by time zones to make sure we weren’t calling people while they were in bed, trying to sleep. But every once in a while, we’d accidentally cold call someone in NY at 11:30pm.

The rules for telephone solicitations were simple, as laid out by our sales manager — take the path of least resistance. This meant we should avoid pitching women, since they had a tendency to see through our absurd pitches. Calling New Yorkers was mostly a waste of time, since they were too sophisticated to open an account with a know-nothing upstart smiling and dialing for dollars. The easiest new accounts were to be had in the south, or the midwest — tricking honest, god fearing people to buy whatever we were selling.

Unlike the others in my group, I was more attracted to the idea of making people money more than earning some commissions. I had always wanted to be a stockbroker and I even had a small account for myself — long a new company called America Online. After my father was killed, a wrongful death lawsuit was filed by my mother; and because of this, I came into some money when I was 18. With a portion of the money, I placed some money in American Online — with the belief that the internet was something that was going to be a big deal. Believe it or not, most of the people I talked to about this were not believers — chalking it up to a fad. For a while, I doubted my thesis too, as the stock careened lower from my basis of $42 down to the high teens.

Joe and I were pitching Barnes and Nobles bookstores, because of the recent Amazon IPO. Barnes and Nobles had recently teamed up with Microsoft and our pitch was that no one could defeat the mighty Microsoft and that it wasn’t long before the combined firms laid waste to the volatile Amazon — whose stock traded wildly back then, with wide spreads and ranges that kept most people away from trading it.

We enjoyed varying degrees of success. By the summer of 1998, internet stocks had take a deep plunge lower. Whatever business I had ginned up for myself was essentially dead. Before my grandfather passed away, I had gone 4 consecutive months without taking home any money. My wife and I were living off credit cards, building a grim future together in of debt and failure.

So, after taking a week off from work, I returned to the office and began packing my shit. I knew that taking a week off, no matter what the excuse, would get me fired. Lo and behold, like clockwork, shortly after I was finished packing my stuff, the sales manager called me into his office.

He was a burly Irish man, short on talent, long on work ethic. He was the type of person who always seemed jovial; yet at the same time, everyone knew he’d stick a knife in your back if given the chance. Also, he was known for hiring young reps, only to fire them shortly thereafter, in order to take their books. A regular fuckface, if I might be so bold.

Anyway, I sat down in his office and he said: “Fly, just throw in the towel.” I just sort of looked at him, all cow eyed and shit. He furthered: “This business is not for you. You can make more money as a dishwasher or paper boy. Just hang it up.”

Still depressed over the loss of my Grandfather, coupled with the fact that I was poor as fuck, meekly, I agreed and handed over my book (prior to entering his office, he asked me to bring in my book), without an argument.

Planning ahead, I had secured a place of employment at a small NYSE member firm, where a good friend of mine worked. He allowed me to share an office with him. However, upon transferring over, the market was so bad, due to the LTCM bullshit, hardly any of my clients followed me to the new firm. As a matter of fact, only 3 clients had the balls to come with me.

A few months passed and the market was in idiotic full crisis mode. I was young and overzealous and could not fathom what the fuck was going on. It was surreal. My work hours were consistent, 8am to 11pm. I worked like a fucking slave, often times slacking on the sales front in order to sponge information from the bloomberg terminal. I was an information junky, always reading, studying my trade.

Shortly before the LTCM crisis ended, the owners of the firm asked me to ” go work in the boardroom,” since I was undeserving of an office. They were right and I hated them for it.

By that time, despite being in the business for little more than 1 year, I was burnt out. I spent a week or two looking for a salaried job. My interviews were egregious, mainly because I really hated myself for failing and it showed. I wore it on my sleeve. The fact that I was being forced to find alternative employment, due to early set backs, ate me up inside. Needless to say, because of my poor interviewing skills, I was unable to land discount house gigs, or anything else for that matter. I had a new baby at home and I was living off of credit cards, in stupid basement apartment, Brooklyn, NY. My back was up against the wall.

I went back to work.

Almost immediately after “throwing in the towel” (again), in search for “steady employment,” my life changed for the better.

I could not find a salaried job, so I had to make due with being a piker stockbroker, getting paid 100% by way of commissions. The only problem: I only had a handful of clients and the market was knifing lower daily.

Despite being a destitute poor guy, I had a little money in the market. A few years prior, using all of my savings (6k), I bought stock in a company called America Online, ticker AMER. I needed money desperately; but I was adamant about keeping AMER, for it was my lottery ticket.

I began cold calling a corporate directory. Actually, I was obsessed with opening new accounts with partners of this prestigious firm. I worked long hours and was buying one stock for almost all of my clients: Beyond.com, ticker BYND. I didn’t know much about the market back then. However, I did get a sense that the LTCM induced sell off was about to end. After all, the internet was brand fucking new and everyone was ecstatic over the potential growth prospects.

Nonetheless, times were tough for me at home. I remember going 3 months without making any money. And, when I did get a pay check, it was so small, it hardly covered my monthly nut, which was only $1,200, including rent ($400), food and travel. At work, I didn’t eat lunch, because I could not afford it. And, I didn’t dry clean my shirts; because, well, that shit was expensive. Instead, my wife washed and ironed them at home. I had two suits, both were purchased immediately after I passed the series 7 examination. I thought, like most new brokers in the business, I was going to make a million dollars, right away.

The summer of ’98 was a long arduous time, for me, and most people in the business. I started to experiment with margin, since my assets were bullshit and my clients believed in my internet stock strategy. Aside from BYND, I was buying SEEK, GCTY, AMER, CMGI, and all of the fun, high growth, albeit death spiraling stocks.

I cannot remember exactly what the catalyst was, maybe a special Alan Greenspan interest rate cut; but the market bottomed in the fall of ’98 and never looked back. My position in BYND, inside of a week, went from $8 to $14. SEEK went from $18 to $30. I could not believe my eyes. I had accounts, fully levered into the teeth of the decline, all of a sudden explode to the upside. One small account, which had been beaten up badly, went from $3,000 to $12,000 in a single day. That same account, eventually, went to $90,000.

My largest account, at the time, was about $250,000. That too, within a week, exploded higher— to north of $400,000.

Basically, I got lucky. I was positioned at the right place at the right time. My new clients thought I was some fucking oracle, nailing one trade after another. I remember going on a 20 out of 20 streak. As a matter of fact, I still have some of my old book pages, where I’d log my trades, to prove it.

At my firm, I became the “go to guy” for hot stock tips. I knew the internet sector inside and out, like no one else, and always knew which stock would take off next. I bought At Home, ticker ATHM, before anyone else heard about them, and enjoyed a 200% run inside of a few short months.

I played them all, from YHOO to AMZN to BCST.

Within 6 months of being told to “throw in the towel,” I was doing $45-50k in monthly production. The money came so fast and furious, frankly, I didn’t know what to do with it. First and foremost, I paid off the $25k in credit card debt that I built up. Then, I bought myself a few nice suits a respectable pair of shoes and a $3,000 watch.

Soon enough, I was given an office at my firm. I was more than happy to leave the boardroom, where pikers talked shit and old men slept. I had big plans. One of them entailed seeking revenge on a certain former asshole sales managers. Trust me when I tell you, in no way was I grateful for getting shit canned, immediately following my Grandfathers death.

The dot com craze was in full throttle mode and I was taking full advantage. All of the countless hours spent gawking at the bloomberg terminal, researching about the internet, was transforming ideas into cash, via egregious stock market gains, both professionally and on a personal level. My small America Online position, ticker AMER, had exploded in value and my book of clients was robust.

I staffed up, hiring a sales assistant and several cold callers and account openers. Monthly production was humming along at a brisk 100-275k per month; life was good to say the least. I couldn’t handle the order flow, especially since, back then, every single trade had to be written out on buy or sell tickets. Often times I was unable to eat lunch, due to the enormous burden of order flow at work.

Out of necessity, my work hours were still asinine, 8am to 9pm. It was just part of the job.

I deposited a lot of my personal worth into the stock market, moved out of the basement, into a Brownstone. My friends and family really had no idea how much money I was making, since I kept a low profile. They just thought I was “doing well.”

Every month or so I’d spend thousands of dollars on jewelry for my wife, from a private jeweler. One time, I was counting money, about to head over to my jeweler. I had about 15k spread out all over the desk; suddenly, my sales manager walked in unannounced. He just sort of looked at me, bewildered, as if I was conducting a fucking drug deal or some shit. I still remember the look on his face. Good times.

In addition to stupid diamonds, I spent a lot of money on sales leads, thousands of dollars worth. Somehow, someway, I was able to purchase the entire book of client contact information of my old nemesis— that fuck faced sales manager, who had fired me 2 years prior.

I went to work.

I was obsessed with exacting revenge on that fucker, who had fired me and took my book of business, immediately after my Grandfather’s death. One by one, methodically, I convinced his clients to leave him and transfer to me. It was like taking stupid from a cold caller.

Granted, it was a diabolical plan, one that I would never inflict on anyone else. However, he deserved it and more. He was stealing books for years. He had no talent, so he back stabbed his way into a lofty position.

Payback is a motherfucker.

In a period of two months time, I had successfully transferred more than 30 of his clients and millions in assets from him to me. It got so bad, so egregious, my sales manager came into my office one day, displaying a “cease and desist” order, from a certain vanquished former sales manager. I viewed it as an offer of surrender; so I stopped calling his book.

Years later, incidentally, we worked at the same firm together, again. But he never said a word to me about the whole ordeal.

Hence the term was born: “The Fly” wins all the time, even when he appears to be losing badly.

Finally, this is a story I can get behind — a company dedicated to the production of fucking laser beams. Perhaps I can borrow some of their tech in order to complete my Orbital Space Cannon (OSC) project? Either way, I challenge you to find another company growing as rapidly as Coherent, a stock of extreme quality and honor.

Granted, that chart isn’t the best looking thing in the world, but neither is Jim Cramer. Look how successful he’s been over the years. One thing is perfectly certain, the product of OLED is humming along. Slave factories in China are onerously pressing their workforce to produce OLED displays around the clock and they need the laser produced by COHR to accomplish this task. With the Apple X just around the bend and the OLED industry undergoing acute shortages, I expect OEMs will drastically up the scale of their production facilities, which will all require more.fucking.lasers.

Fucking lasers

Alas, I sold out of UVXY — because a loser is a loser. I kept the YANG position — mainly to keep alive my dream of being positioned for China’s collapse perfectly.

This is one of the most reliable, reoccurring, signal in Exodus — the actual overbought signal that is supposed to place the fear of God into the heart’s of men. In reality, such signals are green lights for wanton perversion. Feel free to leverage out grandmother’s accounts and place them into money losing biotech ventures. If history is of any use, whatsoever, we’re on the precipice of higher prices.

Track record for buying SPY after an Exodus OB is 88% over 10 trading days.

No one is scared of this market and preparations for lower prices is an absurdity, a cartoonish suggestion that only losers partake in.

The game plane is simple. Get out there and buy your favorite soda pop stock, tech stock, and biotech venture, then kick back and enjoy the scenery of your account balances zooming higher.

Why don’t we have a serious conversation about The Facebook, shall we?

I remember when the stock IPOd at ~35ish and I stepped in and bought some for a client at $32, which drew the ire of all of you spinsters in the comments section who thought FB was destined to fall. Little did you know, after bottoming out at $18, the stock would go on a miracle run of ~800% for the next 5 years — almost uninterrupted. It has been a dream to both watch and own FB. The client that I bought the stock for had transferred to a discount brokerage shortly after my purchase, more to do with estate consolidation than hatred for me. My client had passed away and his son took over the account, so he had to split the estate up with his fucking siblings.

Although I haven’t checked on him, I hope he kept that 3,000 share position — for if he did, it means that his unrealized gains are now in the ballpark of $400,000.

Alas, I really don’t give a shit and I hope that he gets hit with hard golf balls the next time he ventures off for some T-time.

Back to Facebook.

The founder and CEO, Mark Zuckerberg, is positioning to be your next President. This would be great, as it would pave the way for the first robot President, clearing the path for future robots to take the position from flawed men. While presiding over FB, the share price has risen ~650% over 5 years, both earnings and revenues skyrocketed, and he’s in control of all of the news and information for billions of people — in all walks of life — both conservative and liberal.

Just Mark Zuckerberg doing totally normal human things. pic.twitter.com/SnJHfhZFum

— /pol/ News Infinity (@polNewsInfinity) September 25, 2017

I hope they fix his human suit before the 2020 take-over.#Zuck2020 #Zuckerberg pic.twitter.com/cZY5U0kjcl

— ? (@awesomewww) September 28, 2017

He is your master.

Mark Zuckerberg, Apex Predator

His resume.

As you whither away, greedily, watching your phones, envious of the highlights posted by people on Facebook and Instagram, can you honestly say that Facebook is a bad investment?

Some multimillionaire is getting noticed by the drunkards inside the options pits for taking out a very large bet on the volatility index.

According to Mr. Chintawongvanich (WTF?), head of derivatives at Macro Risk Advisors, this bet was taken back in July — hoping for pay dirt now. Here’s a look at the October options montage for the VIX-tits.

According to Mr. Chindick (sp?), the mysterious, yet awesome, trader is expecting the VIX to shoot higher into the mid 20s soon.

On CNBC’s “Trading Nation,” Chintawongvanich said the trade may very well be a hedge against a broader stock-heavy portfolio, rather than a pure bet that the VIX rockets higher.

“I think it’s a good hedge. I think the person who is doing this isn’t necessarily just betting outright that volatility is going to go up. I think they probably own a lot of stocks, a lot of things that would go down if North Korea risk escalates, or maybe something else, tech stocks pull back,” he said. “The point is, they probably need protection, and they think it’s a good place to get in there doing that, with the VIX being at extremely low levels.”

Mr. Chindick is assuming this trader at large is hedging a very large common stock portfolio and merely wanted to protect his downside a little bit — via LARGER THAN FUCK bets on the VIX. It has never dawned on him to understand and realize that such a trader cannot be bargained with, that both his demeanor and spirit is guided by dark forces, hoping to preside over a market in ruins, charred out automobiles down the block from schools, pieces of metal bustling throughout urban centers getting caught in lungs and shit. Such a man is only interested in the black flag — I promise you that.

Morning mates, Hugh Hefner is dead at the tender age of 91 — leaving behind a legacy of wanton degeneracy and perversion. Good night, sweet prince.

On an altogether separate note, I’ve taken the advice of some of you and have decided to self publish some of my short stories on Amazon. I’ll start off with some autobiographical stories and then maybe commingle a little fiction into them — based off true stories — just to enhance their readability. I’ve decided to start off with some of the Important Matter stories that I’ve published here — revising them to offer greater insight and details.

Here’s my Amazon account (you’ve recently read this story here). I’ll keep you posted when I have something new there. Five star reviews are both helpful and appreciated, in providing Le Fly with a global platform for his eloquent prose.

Over in Europe, stocks are gently higher. The Eurostoxx 50 is +0.11% and the euro is +0.28% v the dollar. US bond yields are markedly higher again, in a rush for some reason. The 10yr is +2.6 bps to 2.33%, widening the 2-10 spread to 85bps.

Dollar weakness has translated over to higher crude, +1% to $52.66. NASDAQ futs are -6 and the S&P is -2. I wouldn’t put much credence into the early morning weakness, since higher crude is likely to light a fire under basic material stocks. Plus, the yield curve steepening like this is going to provide bankfags with plenty of fodder to jimmy up their bank stocks.

The President has yet to take to Twitter this morning. I imagine General Kelly is chasing him around the Oval Office, trying to get a hold of his phone — stopping him from saying something about N. Korea — who, by the way, just got all of their businesses in China shut down.

BREAKING: China has ordered the closure of all North Korean companies in the country

— The Spectator Index (@spectatorindex) September 28, 2017

Pre-market movers.
ADHD +17.1%, CHMA +10.2%, ADVM +10.1%, AAAP +9.6%, BBRY +7%, SINO +5%, ABT +4.5%, THO +4%, JBL +0.6%
DXCM -22.6%, PIR -11.8%, CMTL -10.9%, ITCI -3.6%, RAD -3.5%, MTN -2.2%, ENZ -1.7%, ACN -0.5%

And here are the various moves by our beloved analyst community this AM.

This is what you’re paying for, clients of Morgan Stanley. You get Mike Wilson, Chief U.S. Equity Strategist and Chief Investment Officer, the most bullish of analysts on Wall Street, while also being the most bearish.

How wonderful.

Asshat, Morgan Stanley

To best experience the dynamics of Mike Wilson’s intricate market call, first I advise you to sit back, relax, and drink a fifth of vodka — straight from the bottle — then doze off in that nice rocking chair of yours and be prepared to vomit when you wake up.

He’s calling for S&P 2,700 by Q2 of 2018, roughly 10% higher from present levels. In a televised interview on CNBC yesterday, he described a market that would saunter higher, amidst cheerful baskets of flowers being tossed upon investors. There wouldn’t be any cause for concern, until his price target was met — at which time grave horrors would unfold — leaving top tickers stranded at the altar — raped, battered, and bruised.

After the market soars to new record levels, a pox will befall equities, shattering dreams and stopping pace makers. The S&P 500 will fall by 20%, drowning investors in a bear market that is both menacing and harrowing.

Until then, earnings should drive gains and potential economic stimulus will keep the party train going, leisurely stocked with the strongest and the purest strains of cocaine, booze, and hookers.

“Today is a short term euphoria but we think this is the primary trend: Small caps, financials energy” are all opportunities for investors. “That doesn’t mean that FANG or tech gets left behind. They can both work in concert now. So I think this is the next leg.”

While markets should trade higher, up until it crests at Wilson’s ghostly target of 2,700, he does caution investors that is could trade down, rather severely, at any given moment. He’s calling for a possible retracement of 5-6% by late October to early November. In the event that doesn’t happen, well then, stocks should trade higher.

“I think the way it sets up is people probably get excited over the next couple of weeks,” said Wilson, also chief investment officer of institutional securities and wealth management. Wilson said he expects earnings to keep buoying the market. “Then we’re going to have the inevitable disappointment.”

Wilson also took a shot at his peers for being wrong about a summer correction, smugly reminding them of what drives stocks in this market.

The reason why stocks went higher this summer, as opposed to lower, was simple, according to Wilson — “It survived the test. The reason it survived the test is that fundamentals are too good,” he said. “There’s two ways to correct an overbought market. You could go down or you could go sideways. We took that latter route. ”

After the 5-6% fall correction, stocks will extricate themselves from the ribald glumness of Autumn and reassert a bullish vigor — sending it to new record highs at 2,700.

“We’ll get to 2,700 first, and then the timing of the beginning of the cyclical bear could be imminent. It could be any time after that. It could be as early as the second half of next year,” he said in the telephone interview.

To avoid sounding absurd, or even ridiculous, Mr. Wilson reminded the reps at Morgan Stanley that butcherous market slaughterings are quite normal happenings for stocks — in spite of them becoming increasingly rare in the 8th year of the present bull market.

He summed up his intellectually diverse market call as calling for both a boom and a bust, having it both ways, having cake and eating it too.

“I think this is the trick…Be careful what you wish for. We’re late cycle. We made this call back in April. We’re looking for the boom, bust,” he said. The boom is the bump and euphoria from fiscal stimulus, and investors could get excited about tax cuts sometime early next year. “It actually brings the end of the cycle. That’s the irony.”

Prepare for both gains and losses, ups and downs.

Thank you Morgan Stanley.

Real estate prices in many of the top zip codes in America have doubled over the past 5 years. In some hotter markets in California, gains are in excess of 200%. The tech heavy NASDAQ is +121% over the same time period, helping buoy the richest amongst us to new heights.

According to Forbes’ Cost of Living Extremely Well Index, a basket of 40 luxury items, they’ve risen — uninterrupted — since 1982. Recession proof.

The inflation rate for the elite has been running hot since ’82, averaging 5%. Although it’s hard to get a hard reading on what the true inflation rate is for the wealthy, some argue it has been running in excess of 10% for the past decade.

Statistics released by the Federal Reserve revealed the top 1% now control a record 38.6% of America’s wealth. The bottom 90% of wage earners have been falling for 25 years — touching down at a 22.8% share in 2016, down from 33.2% in 1989.

Aside from wealth, the rich are increasing their earnings on an annual basis too, with reported incomes hitting a new high of 23.8% in 2016, up from 20.3% in 2013.

Warren Buffett believes the Dow will hit 1 million within 100 years, conservatively. All of these lofty projections and data points leave out the specter of pullbacks, an arrogant position given the historical likelihood of this being an impossibility.

One day, markets will dislocate, real estate prices careen lower, rich people flung from their windows directly into crematories, effectively leveling out these gross differences. Until then, however, let the good times roll.

The all mighty Andrew Left from Citron Research tweeted criticism of small cap scorcher, VERI, at 10:54am today. Within minutes, the stock was reeling, people jumping out from their windows, cracking their skulls on the hard, cold, pavement below.

$veri is not artificial intelligence, more like natural stupidity. Stock should trade right back to $20.

— Citron Research (@CitronResearch) September 27, 2017

Now the stock is down 30% from the time of his tweet. Oddly enough, the stock had been cascading lower about 10 minutes prior to his declaration. I’m sure it’s simply a matter of Left getting pissed off at the cowboy trading action in VERI — causing him to impulsively set the record straight.

VERI claims to have an AI operating system. All the rage these days. The stock was $8 in late August and hit a record high of $74 today, prior to Left’s ruinous tweet.

Wunderlich, Craig-Hallum Capital Group, and Northland Capital Markets brought them public back in May of 2017.