BLIMEY! PREPARE TO BE KEELHAULED

Ever since I re-dedicated myself towards the profit of my BALT position, I’ve been, inadvertently, turning into a cackle eating pirate. With the colder climes, I’ve been wearing a black cable knit ski hat and a pea coat, which was gifted to me from Mrs. Fly. Suddenly, I’ve lost the desire to shave and have been growing a beard, readying to become the scourge of the heavy seven seas. If my hornswaggling clients saw me today, they’d think for sure I had lost my faculties, as nothing about my person is gentrified.

Also, it’s worth noting, I am now “bulking” at the gym, gaining about 1lb per week, entirely dedicated towards the building of muscles, so that I might be able to break someone’s skull with just one swing of my cutlass. I realize this terrifies a great many of you, men who fancy themselves “sophisticates”, traveling the United States in search of quality “t-time.”

I couldn’t care less about your goddamned t-time.

Heave to what I am telling you now: I am here to grab the money (extra arggg) and go. The market is weak, but my position is strong. I am going to take the treasure (BALT), one way or another, and you’re just gonna have to sit there and watch me do it. Gone are the days when I’d bothered to negotiate with any of you bilge rats, regular carousers, attempting to snatch my beard. You rapscallions have been taking from me since 2007 and I think it’s about time you gave back.

I treasure your silence, so shhhhhh.