FOOLED! SECULAR STOCKS HAMMERED

I am running late this morning, en route to the beach where Mrs. Fly rented some bikes for us in order to fully rip apart my ACL. I am positioned wrong this morning — since risk is on and I am off. My positions, for lack of a better term, are fucking stupid. I am long KO when I should be doing coke. These things happen.

What’s important to know is — I meant well. I truly did. I positioned into these olde man stocks with the intent of capital preservation and ended up blowing myself up, down 88bps.

The thing is, if I switch now to high growth — we might reverse the fuck lower and I’ll truly hate myself as I cavort Le Playa with my trunks. Also, I sort of like these old man stocks. I am entitled to hold them down for more than 2 days, no?

One last thing before I go — I need to lose about 7lbs. I weighed myself this morning and it appears that I am a fat piece of shit. I am usually quite good about fitness — but I suppose stuffing my face with pizza pies and chocolate eclairs isn’t exactly the sort of lifestyle on par with being thinner — looking better. I only tell you this now — because I truly didn’t know. I thought, perhaps, I was 2-3lbs fat. The truth is a lot grimmer than I had previously thought; ergo, I will now begin a cutting regimen of draconian measures.

It’s quite easy to lose weight — but it will be a challenge with just one leg. See, my ACL is most likely torn to shreds. I say “most likely” because I never bothered to visit a doctor who is likely to attempt to cut holes into me. Nevertheless, in spite of my new handicap, I will cut down 10 pounds and achieve my fighting weight by October 1st.

OFF TO THE FUCKING BEACH, where I will not be eating iced creamed cones and various fried foods.