I ENDEAVOR TO LIVE THE LINDZON LIFESTYLE

I started a new position in TUBE, in a feeble attempt at enjoying a most prodigious and prosperous life awash in profit–like Howard Lindzon.

I sold out of KITE for a 9% loss, after data presented last night left few enthused. With the proceeds, I further bulked up on AGIO. Although I wanted KITE to work, it didn’t, so I am moving on.

This has officially become comical, like an old Benny Hill episode funny. You little tomato throwers actually believed this was it, this was “the big one” that would finally sit us down? Not quite yet, there.

In the real world, Dr. Benjamin Bernanke, posted up in his luxurious new office at Citadel, is almost choking on his blunts, laughing at how stupid all of you are. You’re like gorillas in the midst, cavernous base sub-humans, lost in the jungles of your own stupidity.

While it’s true, some biotechs are underperforming. It’s also true that none of it matters in the big scheme of things. The train moves on, with or without you. Hell, with or without me too. Adjust or get eliminated.

Now I told you what was going to happen. However, I was not as aggressive as I should’ve been. I gave room for another day of weakness, which isn’t entirely untrue looking at some stocks on my screen.

Here is the oversold data for QLD (levered Nasdaqs), courtesy of Exodus. What does this mean?

It means that if you bought QLD on The PPT‘s oversold signal over the past 12 months, you enjoyed “flawless victory” and were able to punch a hole through your enemies chest and rip out his beating heart. Whether or not you chose to eat his/her heart after “surgically removing it” is entirely up to you. I leave you to your own caprices. I think you know where I stand.

One can make a strong argument that my algorithms do not belong in the hands of the layman, the Third Estate fribbled canaille. Friends of mine at wirehouses beg me to pitch their strongmen. I have zero interest in helping them ingratiate themselves any further. This is for the people.

Several times in my career I’ve had moments of clarity, when everything made sense and it gave me uncontrollable energy and drive to accomplish a task. When I first entered the business, poor as shit wearing chinese-man delivery shirts to work, I witnessed success for the first time and wanted it. But to get from where I was to where some of the top producers were, I needed to make changes. The first and most obvious change to me was to work on my speech patterns. Growing up in Brooklyn, I had taken on a distinct NY accent. That shit needed to go and quick.

So I skill milled every fucking night, recorded myself, and entrenched myself in the process of sales. The first thing you need to do is just do it. Get over the specter of rejection. Being rejected, in any venue, whether it be women or business, should be viewed as a learning process. What did I do wrong? How could I’ve closed that sale? Right? Soon enough, your skin will become so thick, you crave for that rejection–because you’re gonna overcome it and make that person see the light.

After the dot com crash I went into hibernation and made a modest living selling bonds and doing preferred stock offerings, raising capital through secondaries and “just getting by.” During this period, my energy level plummeted and I became a recluse, staying at home reading books and consuming information on an industrial scale. Then I saw eureka. I believe that moment came in early 2003, after the Bush tax cuts. It was like a bolt of lightening ran through my spine. Immediately I ceased all bad habits and focused my newly found, and intense, energy on building my business. I started going to work at 4am to call overseas, working late until 9pm. I was never home and my wife hated me. Frankly, I didn’t think about that because I had a mission to accomplish and nothing was going to stop me. I scaled my business and started doing 6 figures in monthly gross production again, for the first time since 2000.

The reason why I can’t sleep these days is because, for the first time since 2003, I sense a major shift in my life coming.

For five long years, I’ve tried to get PPT 2.0 finished. It is finally finished and I couldn’t be happier with the results. The PPT was built solely for an internet based audience; one that, quite frankly, I discouraged people from subscribing to. It’s actually quite funny if you look at how abrasive I am with you fuckers and you still do business with iBC. I think you sense there is something genuine and real about my intentions.

With Exodus, I’ve decided to rapidly expand the company though direct sales efforts to industry professionals, applying the skills that helped me build a multi million dollar brokerage business, twice, to software as a service.

I am sure many of you have ideas and want to find that vision or motivation to build something. The best advice that I can give you is to stop being such a fucking pussy and grab the bull by the horns, else that motherfucker up the block will do it for you.

The fuck? Have you ever seen this movie? Once again, I had zero expectations heading into this film, thinking it was going to be stupid retard shit, like the Rocky Horror crap. Boy was I wrong.

This movie reached into my soul and placed a bit of Kubrick in it forever. It is an amazing film and extremely edgy for the time it was made.

The single best thing about Kubrick’s work is the limited supply. Other notable films include: Full Metal Jacket, Lolita and Sparctucus. But the number one film of all time, made by none other than Stanley Kubrick, is the lunar landing. I mean, what a fucking masterpiece and a ruse. Wow. To this very day, his cinemetography in the lunar landing has millions believing that we traveled TO THE FUCKING MOON IN THE 1960’s WITH TINFOIL AND A CALCULATOR (thank you Mr. Macke for that immortal line).

I know, you saw Mythbusters and they “proved” we went to the fucking moon. Please. I have one word for you: VANALLENBELT.

It is widely believed that Kubrick was so fucked in the head, after tricking the nation and the world, that he went on a hiatus from making films. His resume for the lunar landing was Space Odyssey, naturally. Now if you watch The Shining and decode what he is telling us in the movie, you will see that he is admitting to his complicity in the lunar movie. If you think I am making all of this up, go google it. It is your friend.

Oh, and watch Clockwork Orange. It’s one killer of a film.

Next week Woody Allen.

I love it. Now this is a market.

Bottom line: market trades up, substantially, by Wednesday of next week. Have a great weekend and don’t forget to stop by tomorrow, as I wrap up Stanley Kubrick and move onto one of my favorite directors of all time: Woody Allen.

NOTE: I’ve had this song on repeat for about 24 hours straight. I am driving Mrs. Fly ape.

Top picks: AGIO, KITE

Dr. Benjamin Bernanke could not have timed his debut at Citadel more perfectly. As the sell off deepens, the good Dr., laid back in his chesterfield armchair, smoking a blunt made from 100% marijuana leaves, is laughing at the lot of you running about the house naked–attempting to cover margin calls.

Markets will remain uncooperative until the tone and tenor of its participants improves. Right now, it is infected with banana eating apes, parasitic faineantise accustomed to quick cash and little to no work.

Life is hard as a full time money manager, having to toil away for meager 7 figure compensation packages–forced to watch the teevee all day long and converse with people on the internets. But something tells me all of my hard work and mindful efforts will lay several golden eggs.

For one, as you fribble away in a wide swath of low quality stocks, “The Fly” remains entrenched in his stone forest of cancer stocks barely down on the day. While it’s true, my largest position JNS is down 3% for the day; it’s also true that B. “Fucking” Gross will have none of this shit on Monday. He gives zero fucks to the people who want to see JNS lower.

At the end of the day, we were overdue for a sell off. Rest assured that The PPT will, once again, guard against destructive trades in your peasant accounts–laying the foundation that you require to battle out from your housing tenements. All that is on sale today shall be purchased next week, at a time and place of Dr. Benjamin Bernanke’s choosing.

This might come as a surprise to some of you, but I enjoy a good market rout. Seeing the futures down 150 this morning gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Like I said, “The Fly” feeds off adversity and is at his best when the chips are stacked high against him.

World markets are being rocked, from Russia to China to our NASDAQS. In my opinion, this is an old parlour trick to get you to sell out before a most hedonistic melt up. New highs will be had again, persons of interest galavanting about town in robes, sandals, accompanied by copious amounts of incense. Castles occupied by chocolate eating slobs, rich from capital gains, will be our future.

I want 100 NADAQS to be shaved off the market today. Then, just when everyone is leaning one way and The PPT flags its divine OS signal, trebuchets will be deployed– turning all bears into chopped meat and sent to SHAK’s HQ to be sold as hammed burgers across the nation (extra cannibalism).

I don’t give a shit about down stocks. My second largest position, AGIO, is sticking pins in the heads of everyone. “The Fly” is immune to your voodoo.

Listen to me, Chinese stocks are being shot in the face and buried, thanks to the PBOC action to destroy people on margin. This all has a way of working out. Most of the time it results in the absolute dissolution of the plebeian class. The Third Estate has never had it so good, eating their MACDONALD burgers and frenched fries. Even Wal-mart is selling organic food now. Life is great for the impoverished.

I have no idea how I just went from China to the organic food aisle in WMT.

Early going, the sell off is hardcore, gangster rap style, circa 1993. You don’t want to venture off into that market right now. Ghouls are running rampant, led by their General, Blustar. If you’re not careful, Blue will trap you and rip your spine out from the front of your flabby torso.

Thank God I sold out of BITA the other day. Nonetheless, I am still long DSKY and have challenged Mother Market to “sit me down” in a very abrasive fashion. Let’s see what this bitch has in store for me, since I am feeling my oats and know that “The Legend of The Fly” is one not to be tested, or fucked with. I’m fatalistic, so try to stop me. You can’t.

Out.

Did you know that every single life changing event for me, thus far, started with agonizing pain? I don’t mean it in the literal sense; I’ve lived a charmed life in that regard (sans the time I had to drive myself to the hospital at 5am because my fucking appendix was set to explode). I am fueled by turmoil.

Growing up, I was accustomed to hard times, the unknown specter of harrowing circumstances abound. To this very day, I carry crosses and feel comfortable doing so. Everything bad that has ever happened is justified as a means to an end. Right now, despite my overzealous demeanor in the stocked market, I am eagerly waiting for a shoe to drop. It’s the reason why I am so brazen, mocking Mother Market for not having the balls to sit me down. Or, how about that asshole hedge fund manager who was shorting my stocks last year? I haven’t seen him show up in some time. You should sell short DSKY; it’s very illiquid.

What is the meaning of it all?

Legacy.

You weren’t put on earth to take up resources and increase the crime rate. Hopefully you can, in some big or small way, make a difference while you’re still healthy and strong. For me, my children are the most important, followed by everything else. There isn’t a particular order that I rank things after them. The way I see it, everything, except family, is transient.

“The Fly’s” legacy will be one of magnanimous gains, bloody battles, an army of energetic and savage followers, and dead, sworn, enemies– strewn across the internets. Truth is, when I first started blogging I viewed other bloggers as a form of competition (that’s funny, right?). It wasn’t long before I realized they were nothing but apes in search of bananas. Eventually, they’ll all kill themselves, leaving me as the sole financial blogger in the world.

In summary, I miss the fight. Punching retarded people in the face isn’t fun anymore. I need to see black skies, electricity reverberating throughout the atmosphere, and a tidal wave made from blood to wash across my house– leaving me idled like a fucked, forked, radish.