Certainly not.
After each new high comes renewed cat-calls of “blow-off tops” supported by one weak stock or another. The dialogue might sound something like this:
Bob: Did you read Zerohedge today? Boy, I’ll tell ya, this market is really due for a correction. All of that margin is bound to really cut some penises off.
Frank: What the hell are you talking about Bob? Why don’t you go stuff your head inside of a musket and pull the trigger. I’m busy making money in stocks. Leave me the hell alone.
Bob: Hey, what’s up your ass, permabull. I’m just trying to help you out. After all, I know you since we were like sperm cells and don’t want to see you lose money.
Frank: Shut the hell up Bob. The next word out of your mouth, I am going to take this computer and break your skull with it.
Bob: I’ll just leave you with one word, jackass: NETFLIX.
Frank: What the hell is that supposed to mean? (busy smoking cigarette while executing trades)
Bob: Well, duh, it’s down 5% today and that has been the bulls’ number one momentum stock.
Frank: Hey, tell me this Bob, does your wife stay with you because she feels sorry that you lost all of your money shorting the market or is she just stupid and has nowhere else to go? She is a pretty girl, after all.
Bob: Make jokes all you want, Frank. I am going to be dancing on your grave soon enough. And I won’t stop there. I am going to dig up your grave, rip your skeleton out from the coffin and skull fuck you as the market tanks.
Frank: Blow me. Now go fetch me a coffee.
Bob: I’m heading out to lunch now. I just bought some VIX options. It’s a layup here. I am telling you.
Frank: You know what’s a layup here Bob?
Bob: What Frank? Tell me something clever.
Frank: Your wife Bob. Your wife is a layup here.
Bob: (fist pumps as he executes another $2,000 order in TZA)
Frank: Are you buying that TZA again? You’re better off taking a nice bubble bath and then dropping a toaster in it, than messing around with that thing.
Bob: You will see.
Frank: Didn’t you lose like $500,000 in that thing back in 2009?
Bob: It wasn’t that much, but close.
Frank: I’m telling you Frank, your wife is definitely a lay up here. She’s just waiting for a reason to leave your dumbass.
Bob: (fist pumps with excitement as NFLX ticks lower)
Frank: Jesus Christ you need help. You don’t even own puts on the darn thing. Come, let’s go to lunch. It’s on me.
Bob: Thanks. They’re having a special at the diner downstairs.