Trust me when I tell you, nobody despises general contractors more than “The Fly.” Unfortunately, due to my wife’s desire to constantly build stuff and renovate, I am in non-stop “negotiations” with these jerk-offs.
One guy, named Frank, is obviously in the Italian mafia. He looks like Phil Leotardo and sends a 6’5/275 pound gorilla to “collect,” after every 1/4th of the job is complete. I am constantly arguing with him and his fucking prices are absurd.
For example, he charged me $850 to skim coat and prime a small wall. Whenever I ask him to do a job, his initial reply is: “that’s gonna cost ya.” Then he proceeds to mark me up 300%. Everything starts at 1,000 dollars. Everything.
However, Frank and I have a certain understanding with one another. He probably thinks I sell crack, being so young and able to pay him 30k in cash on a day’s notice. He, on the other hand, has ample supply of “illegal Mexican’s,” who do everything– soup to nuts.
In short, Frank has probably whacked a lot of people to get where he is today. Who am I to debate his inflationary construction bills?
The way I look at it, it’s good for karma. The more money I give Frank, the higher my stocks go.
Sat Nov 10, 2007 10:14pm ESTComments Off on The Important Matter of Barry Minkow
First off, I was more than happy to fire Danny last week, but you fuckers expressed your democratic rights, by voting in his favor. As for this week, Danny emailed “The Fly,” explaining his ridiculous work ethic, or lack thereof.
In short, he promises some silly video, shortly. “Elections” will commence, immediately following his fucking video.
As for Barry Minkow:
This is just about the funniest shit to hit Wall Street, since he was thrown in jail in 1988 for being a major dick and criminal.
Seriously, Barry is the reverse Billy Mayes. Instead of pitching a company’s bullshit products, via infomerical– he trashes them. And, he buy puts before doing it.
Barry went to jail, back in 1988, for running a publicly traded scam, called ZZZZ Best Carpet Cleaning, who had mob ties to boot. Read all the background noise here.
Now, following a 7 year prison term, Barry has dedicated his life to “fighting fraud,” and is now a “Senior Pastor” at a Church, naturally.
He is reborn, this time with puts in his brokerage account.
Barry is now trying to destroy a company called Usana (USNA). Usana sells vitamins and a myriad of other hippy bullshit. Basically, Usana is an Avon copycat, where regular idiots attempt to become gagillionaires, via selling crap to their friends and family.
As you know, only lazy fucktards sell Avaon. I suspect lazier fucktards sell Usana.
In short, Barry has gone on a frenzied campaign to destroy shareholder value in USNA. He has a website and regularly uploads reverse sales pitches on Youtube.
He claims that most of the retards who sell USNA products lose money and that Usana is using unethical sales techniques, in order to trick people into selling Vita-shit.
That’s capitalism fucker. If Barry thinks the multi level marketing world of business is fucked up, he should visit any brokerage firm in America. I’d say roughly 85% of all registered reps fail, within the first two years.
During a registered reps training period, he is belittled, abused and forced to live in poverty. Does that mean the regulators should shut down MER?
If some of the lazy couch potato’s, who sell USNA, can’t make money, I say fuck’em. Not everyone is cut out to be a salesman.
Furthermore, the company is in the midst of a stock buyback program. Should these “pyramid players” beat the lowered numbers on the street, Barry and his friends may go back to jail or lose lots of money.
As you know, “The Fly” fired his last Japanese barber, due to insane price gouging. So, in the spirit of not giving a fuck and acting “low IQish,” I decided to get my hair cut by some weird old Italian dude, at my local mall.
Mistake number one.
The place was a complete pigsty, with about 100 barber chairs, filled with “shopping mall fucktards,” and middle aged hatfuckers.
Frankly, under normal high IQ conditions, “The Fly” wouldn’t spit at this barber shop, let alone get his fucking hair cut inside it.
Anyway, I sat down and the man who was assigned to me asked if I wanted a “number 2 or number 3,” referring to his chopping machine, which he readily destroys perfectly good hair with.
I replied: “I don’t want my hair to be cut with razor clippers, instead use a pair of scissors.”
Mistake number 2.
To summarize a fucking nightmare experience, this guy left me looking like I have down syndrome or some shit.
Not only did he trim my side burns; he eliminated them. The back of my head has been mangled– and the top resembles a pineapple.
After sitting in his disgusting chair for 15 minutes, I had enough and asked for mercy.
For 12 bucks, minus the tip, I had my hair destroyed by some shopping mall misfit.
I’m sure under different circumstances, I would have raised hell and left that old fucker with the shakes. However, on this day, “The Fly” was to leave the shopping mall, tame, looking like a fucking pineapple– minus the delicious fruity part.
Shortly thereafter, I buzzed my hair down to fuzz.
Now, I look like a fucking skin head, minus the Nazi bullshit.
UPDATE:Danny’s fired, mainly due to poor work ethic. It was a long time coming. Come on.
Sat Nov 10, 2007 10:12pm ESTComments Off on The Important Matter of Rib Eye Steaks at Outback Steakhouse
So, after today’s miserable tape, coupled with NTRI‘s cardiac arrest trading in the AH’s, I decided to eat amongst the poor and destitute. In other words, I took $100 out of my wallet and went to Outback Steakhouse.
Normally, I’d rather be found dead outside of Palm, than alive inside an Outback. However, I was feeling kind of proletariat, considering the market had been executed by a few “sub-prime lenders.”
After arriving at this jerk off steakhouse, the fuckers seated me near the bathroom. Being irritated, I decided to ignore my “shit filled” surroundings and focus on the “cuisine.” After all, I was with my family.
The waitress came over and took my order. I ordered some seared Ahi tuna for an appetizer, and a fucking rib eye steak for my entree.
To my surprise, the seared tuna wasn’t half bad, despite the bullshit sauces that came with it.
So, I’m sitting there, sipping on my coke, waiting for my God damned rib eye. In the meantime, my kids are going banana’s, throwing crayons at the fuckers next to me.
To make a long story short, those asshats served me a well done rib eye. I had asked for it to be cooked medium rare. How else should steak be cooked?
I told the manager: “I’d rather eat microwaved meat loaf, than battle this fucker into my stomach.” (true story)
He graciously accepted my crude behavior and told me he’d send over a properly cooked rib eye, to my table– in short order.
Well, you know how the story ends.
I sat in a filthy booth and waited for another 45 motherfucking minutes, while my kids were busy throwing their shoes around the table, for a flimsy, poorly cooked, 1 inch rib eye. Can you believe it? 1 inch.
As you know, “The Fly” was not pleased with this rib eye and made sure the manager was well aware of his inadequate “cuisine.” Trust me, I’m fucked up like that.
Needless to say, I left a paltry 12% tip.
Those guys fucking suck goat balls.
NOTE: Sucking goat balls is worse than moose balls.
So, I get back from the middle of nowhere, a place where rich folk pretend to be “earthy,” prior to peeling off in their fucking SUV’s, to find out I’ve been “fuckfaced.” Meaning: I checked my online bank account activity and discovered those hotel fuckers charged me twice. No big fucking deal. What’s a few thousand bucks between enemies?
In addition to that, I must have spent a few thousand shares of MCHX (fully aware of its depreciative mood) on that God forsaken mountain, while being attacked by “jungle bugs.”
In short, mountain vacations are for pussies or retards. I mean, really, if you are from the city and could care less about the fucking planet, why bother sucking in all that fresh air, while playing Daddy “Dick-fiddler” Nature?
Furthermore, vacations in general, with the exception of family trips, are for lazy assholes, who feel a constant need to “reward” themselves–typically for being debt ridden losers.
Really, if you are banking less than 750k a year or have a net worth less than 1 million, with no kids, you have no business taking your fat face on a vacation.
So that you may sip on some pina colada’s and make believe you are “Joe Tropics,” God of the sand & waves?
Instead of burning 5k on a vacation, get to work you lazy fucks.
As for my recent picks:
Fuck you, I’m the one losing money here. As you know, I run on a different clock than most of you retards. You are not supposed to buy what I buy– just watch and shut up. Some of you fuckers are new and have only been “lucky” enough to “check out” my recent “cool” picks. However, I’ll have you know, “The Fly” tends to get very hot and a little cold–every other summer.
Keep in mind, I’m the guy who was buying RIMM @55, telling those NTP and PALM fuckers to go eat pig cock, while spitting at CNBC for panicking everyone out of the stock– at the lows. Aside from that, I told you how many fat fuckers ate dinner at BWLD, and how to “milk farmers” via LNN or VMI. Don’t forget, I caught a $13-16 move on MCHX, the first time around– and HANS $28-44 (still long), NTRI $43-74, EQIX from $55, GME from $6, AAPL from $50, etc. Or, how about my HLYS‘s short suggestion?
My point is: I’m better than you, particularly guys who profess “super cycles” or “general advice givers.”
As for MVIS:
Lots of reasons why the stock tanked, which I’ll get around to–whenever I feel like it.
The kicker: None of these handicap fuckers are actually disabled. As far as I’m concerned, you better be rolling out of your car or in a full body cast, if you are to don the much coveted handicap license plate.
I know a jerk off who has handicap plates. He’s not disabled. He just wants good parking spots, outside of Target or Walmart.
On top of that, these “handicap imposter’s,” are taking up the prime parking real estate from legitimately disabled people.
In short, if I was a NYC police officer, I’d be pulling over these handicap fuckers, left and right. Then, upon seeing that he/she was not disabled, I’d throw a bag of flour on him/her, then peel off in my handicap plated police mobile.
Unlike people who buy stocks, “bearshitters” are in the game for something extra. They want the entire country to collapse and “shit the shower.”
Now, I’m not talking about your run of the mill plunger. You know, the “smart guy” with an edge, looking to make a quick buck, via driving a stock lower.
I’m talking about the guy, like Doug “fuckbag” Kass, who wants the whole system to come crashing down. “Let it all come down, girls.”
I know these people. At heart, truly, they are asshats, skeptical of everything from their electricity bill to the price of tea in China town.
Most of them are unable to view things objectively. Instead, they have static opinions on important topics ranging from “how to smoke crack” to “investing alongside armageddon,” relying on what they consider to be sheer “intellect,” when making financial decisions, rather than foolhardy optimism. Sort of like evil robots, or gremlins who have eaten past 12:00 am.
As you know, all these fuckers want is massive unemployment, followed by death and mayhem, in order to bank a little coin.
Now, don’t get me wrong, “bullshitters” have their own vices, such as “wishcasting” for hurricanes or “playing the war,” via defense stocks.
In short, my point is: Doug Kass is a dick and should be caught kayaking in the Gulf of Mexico, while a fucking Category 5 hurricane comes barreling in, slamming him into a few hundred offshore oil rigs– effectively allowing “The Fly” to bank a little coin in UNG.
NOTE: Before reading this story, click play on the audio clip below.
A long time ago, I would populate my little bullshit fish tank with aggressive fish, such as cichlids, oscars, convicts, or any fish that was demented.
So, after stuffing my 10 gallon tank with as many fish possible, one little fucker made his mark. He made his “mark” by biting off the heads of the other fish, much to my wife’s dismay.
However, for me, this shit was funny. I had “Jaws” in a fish tank, on a war path, eating everything in sight. I named him “Jack,” after “Jack the Ripper.”
Within a few months, Jack was the only fish left in my tank. I kid you not, that little devil ate about 15 fish total, mainly for the hell of it.
Shortly thereafter, “The Fly” made some serious coin in the market and was moving out of the basement apartment he had been subjected to. The only problem: My wife hated Jack so much, she wouldn’t let me take him with us. So, sadly, but not really giving a fuck, I left the fish tank, with Jack as its only occupant, in my rented backyard.
Two weeks later, I returned to my old basement, in order to tie up some loose ends. Upon leaving, two little Italian girl’s (they would always come over to my house and play with my son), ages 9 and 4, ran over and said they had my fish. They said: “We thought you forgot him; so we put him in our tank. Come see.”
So, I went to their house. Their Mother, who had a heavy Italian accent, said she put my fish in her tank, “but look what happened.”
Apparently, Jack was the only fucker left in her tank too. He fucking decapitated all of her shitty goldfish, much to her dismay. She told my wife “I had those fish for 5 years.”
My wife glared at me, as if I was Jack– eating other inferior fish.
To make a long story short, I brought Jack to my new house, and put him in my new and improved fish tank. But, nothing changed. Jack would just hide in some shrub, waiting for some stupid fish to swim by, then crunch. Off with its head.
It was amazing.
However, my wife was not amused. She demanded I flush Jack down the toilet, so that she could buy “normal fish.” I said “no way, Jack is a survivor.” I followed up: “The only way Jack is going out is by the jaws of another fish.”
She went to the fish store and bought the biggest fucking cichlid I had ever seen. This fucker was picking up rocks, and moving them, with his mouth. Unfortunately, sadly, Jack had met his match.
After killing Jack, my wife returned her “hit man” to the fish store, and proceeded to buy bullshit “chick fish.”
In total, Jack had murdered about 70 fish, of all variety. I remember counting them. Even when the “hit man” was ripping him to shreds, Jack fought back.
Jack is truly an inspirational figure. His “story” should be told to children, across the Nation, which entails, killing weaker fish, by surprise if needed, in order to take control of the steady flow of fish flakes that drop into the fish tank.