MAY THE STOCK GODS BURN IN HELL; I FORGE MY OWN FATE

I just got back from the gym. I was a busy day and I had eaten a lot of fucked up shit, like chocolate pudding and whipped cream, so I wanted to make sure I got my deadlifts and bench in. After I did that shit, I drove home and was entreated to a gigantic truck trying to literally drive me off the road, something out of the movie. I wanted to pullover and punch his face silly, but my wife wouldn’t let me. Plus anyway, I haven’t been in a real fight in decades and it’s not as fun as it looks in the movies, so maybe she was right.

I took a look at my email box, and then my brokerage account balance, and then my email box again, and saw nothing but adoration and appreciation for my recent unbelievable streak in the markets. Get this, and it’s important that you understand what you’re bearing witness to: you can never repeat what I am doing now. I’m on some HFT Jp Morgan trading desk type win-rate, 15 out of my last 16 — with another 10 stocks on the books all in profit.

PS +20%
SOGO +16%
MDB +12%
PVTL +13.5%
QD -3%
SSTI +7%
HUBS +10%
IQ +32%
BITA +4%
SMAR +26% (doubled up)
ZUO +21%
BILI +12% (doubled up)
HUYA +19%
OSTK +2.7%

Feel free to thank Le Fly and brag about your recent account balance explosions too. All of this has come at a time whence I’ve committed comical acts of blasphemy against the so called “stock Gods.” I used to revere these mythical FAGlords and praise them for granting me small morsels of winship. But in recent weeks I’ve cursed them and told them to fuck off and to burn in hell — and that has worked out just fine for me.

In summary, I am the new Stock Gods and none of you can hold a candle to me. Also, fuck the Stock Gods — they are both nothing and pathetic creatures, probably very fake, and if real fat.

Stay tuned for tomorrow I shall bestow upon you even more wins.