I spent the day embedded in the natural degeneracy that is NYC. Amidst the smell of homeless man bum and Chanel stores, Le Fly found respite in a wide varietal of fatty foods. I’ve been eating like an absolute savage since getting off from my vegan exploits. The way I see it, I’ll be living in the gym soon and I might as well get it out of my system, especially since I’ve been injuring myself and serving penance on the altar of asinine dietary plans.
Let it be known, “The Fly is drinking more than ever — mostly, gin — eating gigantic steaks, eschewing the faggotry world of politics like the plague, and winning like an olympic gold medalist in these here markets.
On Friday, my trading account closed flat. Today, it traded down 0.25%, all the while the lot of you were beaten with shovel, racked and ruined, for at least 2%.
I step into tomorrow’s tape a proper man, one without heavy losses and instead in a great position to fleece you of your margin liquidations.
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