I woke up in a mood, not so dissimilar to how Dracula might’ve felt centuries ago, famished and zany like a zoo animal for fresh blood. I’m not interested in nourishing myself on blood — per se, only the brokerage accounts of my enemies.
Right now a good deal of you are reading this, smugly, intently, with malicious purpose — trying to take my coin. But you forgot one important, salient, thing: Markets no longer barrel lower on Fridays.
Oil is up — LOOK AT IT.
Gold is up — LOOK AT IT.
On the matter of gold, I’ll be getting my Peter Schiff on today — vaingloriously captivating an audience of plebs with mountainous gains in gold. This is going to be a monster trade. You’ll hear me talking about it more in the coming days and week — months to come.
Have you ever felt really bad about something, only to feel inexorably worse off after someone took the opportune to shit on your parade? I am such a shitter. I welcome myself to your indecorous parade.
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