Everyone out there must be having the time of their lives — popping champagne corks into each other’s faces — behaving like true patriots in the face of a furious rally.
Yet here I am with balls in tow — long SQQQ in my trading account and a few others stray dogs that are doing nothing at all. I had to sell out of REPH for a 5% loss and I can’t find a damned thing to buy. Luckily, and I hate to keep reminding you, most of my money is invested systematically via Exodus Quant and that’s doing just fine. But it’s not fulfilling. I need my fix — the injection of adrenaline into my neck to keep life interesting and worthwhile.
Right now, I stand before you a pathetic ghostly visage of a great former warrior — a tested quality that has resisted inclement conditions and has now been reduced to a fucking frozen popsicle on a very cold and very lonely city street.
I refuse to buy into this shit on a Friday, after such a melt up. Just a few days ago I sold SOXL for +21 point gain and it’s up 20 points since then. What the fuck kind of shit is that?
I hate when I get like this — paralyzed thru crazy thoughts ruled by anger. I’ll get over it by Monday, unless of course we open up another 250. That will truly cause me to sperg out and punch holes through the sheetrock.
Off to go walk my coyote. If I see you in the streets, I will order her to attack you.
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Too funny. You could always buy some BREW.
Whatever you do don’t take it out on the coyote you miserable bastard
Don’t fight the FED’s algos
Everyone and his mother thinks we’re due for a sell off and that this is just a bounce.
>Off to go walk my coyote.
Is that the new shelter dog? I hope that is going well.
Yeah, new rescue dog looks like a coyote. I love her and treat her better than myself.
That’s it. I’m calling it. I can’t hold back any longer.
This isn’t Fly posting. It’s Steve the Neighbor. He ransacked the House of Fly during the Presidential primaries, kidnapped him, and threw him in the basement, with both vigor and tenacity. Fly tried to get out. He couldn’t jimmy the lock – those damn Victorian knobs stuck. He tried to MacGyver his way out using the old radiator down there, but his shitty copper pipes failed him again.
One snowy day, when things looked bleak, the man found a ray of sunshine.
His ticket to freedom, and his rightful place at the table of home renovations and fraught stock picks.
His William Wallace.
His brow dripped with sweat. Not with fear, nor toil (because Fly does neither dammit.) It was with anticipation. He was going to come back to us vagabonds and waylay everyone in his path.
He was jubilant when he saw that that credit-card sized piece of plastic. He was going to open it, call the authorities and return to his rightful place. He thought of fifteen Asshats of the Week since he’s been down there, and yearned to caress his precious Oribital Space Cannon.
He thought of the bannings that brought him great joy in the past, and chart art which delighted so many. He just need to flip the phone open and emerge victorious.
And then his heart stopped.
He turned cold.
He read the words no one who wanted to read on a phone.
Ever.
IFON.
lol,not bad
Fly’s brazen move into SQQQ and all of a sudden selling his longs yesterday in preparation for broken elevator downward made no sense. Sometimes I wonder if the side of the bed he wakes up on on a given day dictates his moved.
^moves
Weather is nice here. Cold but clear.