You’re all idiots. I am not your Pastor. I am not your kids school teacher. Hell, I am a nothing more than a leaf in the wind, a blogger of sorts, yet for some odd reason you think I am beholden to you.
Fly gets a stock pick wrong: “OMG ROFL WTF.” Fly gets a pick right: “YEAH OMG FLY IS GOD.”
Fuck off, lady.
Dude, get a hold of yourself: this is a fucking blog, not some sort of Broadway show, whereby the audience gets to throw celery at the performers. I will fucking punch your eyebrows off for a half twisted smirk, let alone all of the bullshit you spew in the comments section.
All you need to know, emphatically, is that I am better than you, whether it be investing, a game of darts or even flipping through television channels: “The Fly” does it better.
So, with that established, understand, you are not qualified to leave messages for Senor Tropicana. Go whistle Dixie at a Tea Party, asshat.
As for trading:
I am winning again. That’s all I feel like saying, at this moment in time.
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