My vacation saga isn’t over. Now I get to drive on over to my local mechanic to publicly shame him for doing a bad job on my brakes, demand recompense, and offer him a little insight into the soul of a man without a heart.
All that aside, markets are looking ‘dreamy’ and my stocks are higher by 1.54% today. That’s not a pure gain, since 30% is in TLT/GLD fag boxes and 20% in cash. But the money that I do have invested is performing admirably in this euphoric market.
You know, seeing the market do this on a daily basis almost makes me long for the days when I managed money. The amount of money I’d be making right now would be criminal — but the downside is always around the bend. I’ve shaven off at least 100 years from my impervious life form — drolling about Wall Street in search of fortune. Believe me, it’s not a career for old men.
To make it on Wall Street, you need to be young, ignorant, and filled with alpha. Beta males get BTFO, or sent to the bond desk, where they could partake in mathematical arbitrage and pretend they actually do something for a living. If you want to make it on your own, why don’t you try picking up the phone, like a fucking man, and convince a total stranger to send you $5 million dollars — without ever meeting you?
If you can do that, then you’re worthy of my time. If not, fuck off and go blow a giraffe.