DROWNING IN OIL

Let’s look at the situation, shall we?

We shall.

0bama nixed the Keystone pipeline deal at the same time he sends out his nazi squad at the EPA to fuck with oil and gas drillers. Then, to make matters worse, he partakes in war against Libya and sabre rattles against one of the world’s largest producers of crude: Iran. To top it off, Germany, the godfather of the solar industry, tells the solar industry to fuck itself, cutting subsidies.

Do you get the picture?

A great social injustice is being thrust upon the middle class, globally. These energy prices will cripple those who cannot afford food. At around $4 per gallon, I am spending almost $300 per month to drive around the eccentric Mrs. Fly. She fashions me to be an adequate chauffeur and prefers that I drive in the left lane–at all times–while traveling on the freeway. My point is, if not for my 7 figure income, $300 per month might actually mean something to me: I think?

I am humbled by the rise in oil, as I did not expect it. But, the great part about $120 brent crude is $120 brent crude. These prices are here to stay and will likely go higher. I know it seems almost surreal; but we’ve been here before. The end game is the same: high crude prices fucks America’s poor, leading to a decline in consumerism. In the meantime, I believe these overzealous prices is reason enough to take my lazy ass off the bench and start swinging again.

Anything to do with crude can be bought because they will trounce earnings expectations. As crude trends higher, so does earnings per share. It really is that simple.

There is a ripple effect to acknowledge too, such as companies who service the oil/gas industry, like JEC and FLR.

In layman’s terms, there is money to be made off the backs of the underprivileged and I intend to profit from it.

It is, without mincing words, the greatest margin liquidation in all the world!

Indeud.

I thought SHLD was going out of business. What a silly scheming short squeeze. I wish nothing but the worst for those who bet on its demise. On the other hand, HPQ is shitting the shower, yet again–alongside PPO.

Look, I have a plane to catch soon. I am making my way out of this land of alligators and fucking hillbillies in pick up trucks, back to where the trees are ugly and the concrete is dirty. As my reward, I hereby request from the stock Gods a market that spirals lower and understands no boundaries to the downside. Let’s make believe for a moment, shall we?, that Europe has too much debt and Germany isn’t interested in bailing out the sloth of the continent. Let’s imagine that share prices have overshot by a good 10% to the upside at a time when oil prices have skyrocketed higher, effectively hurting the feeble recovery.

I can tell you from first hand, the housing market is still quite weak. Prices are dropping, continuously, because everyone seems to be impoverished. Frankly, I don’t get it, considering how low rates are now. There is no traction in the domestic housing market, outside of the major cities. If you’re interested in living in NYC, Boston or even lauded suburbs like Scarsdale or Greenwich, you will pay up.

Understand me for a moment, I don’t need the market to collapse in order to justify a reentry into stocks. All I require is a little bloodletting in the names I am monitoring. Slowly but surely, that is happening. Underneath the shiny, glossy, exterior of the market is rot. I’m simply waiting for the facade to be lifted.

Discipline, a word loosely tossed around by flawed creatures addled by vices. Whether it be at the gym or in the market, discipline is something that is rare to come by because it means sacrifice.

No one wants to sacrifice because that means they’ll be missing out on some sort of hedonistic fun. Life is fun when practiced correctly; but it comes with sacrifices and consequences. When there is no discipline and there are no sacrifices and people are having nothing but fun, disappointment lurks around the corner: consequences.

When people are disappointed, they tend to lament over the poor decisions that caused such grief, often leading to a multiplier effect, resulting in numerous subsequent bad decisions. When this happens, shit gets crazy, as people try to mop up the mess whilst shitting themselves. Panic ensues and rational thinking goes out of the door.

Crisis begins and everyone wishes they’d been more careful early on in the game.

Fuck you very much, said the vacationing space alien magician (SAM) to the creator of VXX. Despite being at my cost basis with VXX, it’s an awfully hard “vehicle” to watch. I fucking hate people who refer to stocks as “vehicles”–by the way. Therefore, by extension of this law, I hate myself.

Yes it’s true, I am the grinch and the market is green eggs and ham. Even though my good friends, Ragin Cajun and ChessNWine, tell me the green dish is delightful, I scowl at it and spit in its general direction. Volatility is nil. Downside is non-existant, with exception to a few landmines here or there. As a matter of fact, I am waiting for landmines to appear everywhere (No Suess).

The 8% of my assets that are invested depreciate on a daily basis. But you must understand the insignificance of this “dilemma.” Once I dive back in, the small drip of blood exiting my person will be diluted by 50 billion gallons of whiskey. I’ll be drunk halfway retarded, in a coma, from all of the money I will be making. I will laugh and smoke (cigars), cry and punch at everything within arms length. My future wins will be glorious and dare I say magnanimous. It will make all of the shit you’ve been doing over the past month to look like child’s play, like the pyramid at Giza compared to the ancient ruins at Puma Punku.

Nevertheless, I am keeping an open mind as to how my purse might be expended. After all, I grow bored of this idle fence sitting. Having to listen to the monotony of non-financial matters weazens me to no end. I need to escape from this vacation and feel the knife twisting inside of my stomach again. It’s what keeps me going, operating on a high level. Howsoever, before that happens, I need you to be taxed, burdened, heavily, with severe losses, so that I can purchase your margin liquidations in clandestine auctions.

“Am I supposed to throw my money into a fireplace, just to entertain the likes of you?”

I am looking at the market closely this morning and see a lot of underlying weakness. This weakness can be canceled out and pissed on by the dip buyers quickly. However, for now, there is notable weakness in a number of key industries. Considering the global policy of money creation, gold and silver are most likely your safest bets; but the miners are subject to wild swings, so be sure to fix your stomach for volatility.

In my personal aggressive account, all I own is TZA and cash. In managed, I have a little CPST and VXX. I am tempted to buy TLT here; but it feels like a waste of my time. I much rather wait out the superfluities of all of you asshats and buy a serious dip. If you cannot understand what I am doing here, feel free to fuck yourselves and loiter in the yahoo message boards instead of here. Anyone who grows tired of my management style can fuck off. But you already knew that.

The risks to the system today are the same as in 2011. The Greek bailout is a complete and utter joke. And I am not saying this as a cynic, someone who is down big in dastardly short positions. Quite the contrary. I am a mere objective spectator, a watcher of equities and news. In my opinion, there isn’t any justification to be bullish up here. Some stocks are so overvalued, so grotesquely stretched, that I fear the snap back is going to be violent enough to shock many of you back into state run mental facilities.

I am here for another two days, then it’s back to the confines of New York, dealing with the caprices of my tax attorney, who, no matter how much I pay him per annum, works at his own drum, according to his schedule. See, I have a deadline, as I am trying to close on a house. For those of you who think paying cash for a house is a preferred course of action, need I remind you that real estate is a depreciating asset? I will put the minimum 20% down and have the bank finance the rest. For this to be done, I need my paperwork in order; but that won’t get done until I threaten to rattle bones and commit arson, will it?

Looking at today’s tape, it looked like a wash. Feel free to let me know if you saw any trends.

Inevitably, the market has to trade lower, based upon the laws of gravity. Dare I say, these are dangerous levels to be a buyer. I’d like nothing more than a catastrophic drop in all indices, starting with the fucking Chinese, them and their empty skyscrapers. However, as of now, the market is rich with excess and pomp with circumstance. Cigar smoke imbues the chambers of fine establishments near Wall, as brokers and traders alike ham it up over lines of blow, atop the bodies of escorts.

As for me, a simple man with modest needs and desires, I continue to spoil my kids and let their imaginations run wild. I indulge them because life is short and adulthood is rotten to the core. I will do my duty to prepare and protect them for the harsh world that awaits them. But, while they are young, I will let them believe the world is a giant ball of cotton candy, sweet and fluffy–just like Woodshedder.

If there is one word that summed up today, that word would be “BUTTERBEER.” Whilst my wife, daughter and two sons made their way to some lunatic air swing ride thing, I made my way to the BUTTERBEER line. To be honest, I had no fucking idea what BUTTERBEER was, nor do I know why I keep capitalizing the word each and every time I write it. Nevertheless, I wanted to drink it because I am a purveyor of butter and I’ve been known to quench my thirst with select artisan beers. Granted, both butter and beer in the same sentence makes as little sense as China loosening bank reserve requirements while dealing with $119 Brent crude; I wanted it nonetheless.

As fate would have it, my family ended up scrapping their plans to partake in aerial lunacy, specifically due to the long line. They had no idea where I could have drifted off to, as I was supposed to meet them in exactly 1 hour. However, my reputation tends to precede myself in the most egregious way, helping them pinpoint my locale without equivocation: THE BUTTERBEER line.

Ashamed to be seen on such a line, I wore a hat and pulled it close to my eyes, so that no one could see me (please note, this same hat was later eaten or lost or knocked off my head–gone forever– done in by a T-rex/rapidly falling boat combination); but it was of no use. I drank up the BUTTERBEER and felt disgusted by the whole ordeal. I tossed it into a trash bin after drinking just 5/6th’s of it, then headed off in search of a disgusting and absolutely grotesque turkey leg–unnatural in both elephantine size and brackish taste.

I hope you realize, we’re just giving money away here. Back in the old days, these contests were open to everyone, even the miscreants who plagued me in the comments section. However, as the ranks in our membership swelled, it was only right for me to reward my people with a form of lottery.

After the March madness contest, I intend to do two more contests in 2012: one in the summer and another around X-Mas. I already know what sort of contest it’s going to be. But if you have any ideas worth sharing, feel free to jot them the fuck down in the comments section. We’ll be giving away about $3,000, one open to The PPT club and another exclusive to the fine Pelicans inside 12631.

I’m here in Orlando, Florida, readying to help create some long lasting memories with my little ones. As usual, my flight was idiotic and the fucking olives given to me on the plane made me sick. Nevertheless, I am now in a 5 star hotel and feel at ease. Tomorrow is an off day for me; but I will be sure to post a blog or two, perhaps poolside (as you know, the pools are heated at 86 degrees).

Futures are sharply higher because China feels it makes sense to battle inflation and create inflation at the same time. It makes sense, if you think about it. The whole world is inside out stupid. We might as well just start doing shit that makes no sense, whatsoever, just to throw the cynics off. If I was Bernanke, I’d cut rates to -0.5% and tell everyone “get out their and buy a fucking home, assholes,” just after I loaded the fuck up with $1 trilly in index call options. Hell, the Fed can make all of the money back by just partaking in a little insider trading. If Congress can do it, why can’t Ben?

I’m kidding of course. Ben and the Fed have been fucking with the market since Reagan signed executive order 12631.

At any rate, I have a pretty good idea what stocks are worth gambling on. If I buy, it will only betray everything I believe in, not a big deal. It’s the crack-cocaine, frankly. I smell its tantalizing aroma and it taunts me with its grandeur, as I lie here in the lonely tall grass.

Hold on a second, bucko. It appears the religion toting asshats from the east would like to see China’s 50bps bank reserve cut and raise them with a “fuck you, you’re dead, no oil for you” move out of the 1970’s “how to be a terrorist state handbook.”

They will no longer supply the UK or France with crude (insert sad face here).

This smells like good old fashioned war to me! If I were a 4 star general from ‘Merica, I’d strongly advise Obama to continue with his prolific use of the drone to remote control our way to success. I’d arm the drones with mustard gas or a concoction of uranium and dynamite, in order to light Iran’s oil fields on fire and extinguish any semblance of life in and around those “terrorist safe havens.”

If there is one thing I have learned over the past dozen years or so: two wars is simply not enough. Should we, as a nation, endeavor to open up another front in this glorious roadside bomb filled war on terror, I believe we can possibly open up another one or two fronts as a bonus (EXTRA CREDIT).

If I was a general, I’d dress myself in the finest military garments, perhaps even go retro donning WW2 style costumes. I’d wear helmets to the grocery store, with my stars on them, being chauffeured around town by a lowly Colonel. When walking throughout the garrison, I’d order Sgt. Majors to partake in menial tasks, such as cleaning toilets and changing the ropes on the little obstacle courses in the training fields. Then I’d head over to my “battle-station” (the good old “HQ”) and order some Lieutenant to “initiate drone sequence” and “take out some enemy.” Ah, the life of a 4 star general; one could only dream.

Back to reality, I might find myself in the tall grass again on Tuesday, clamoring for fresh meat, should weakness hit the tape due to this Iranian hogwash. As of now, I am roaming on the outskirts of the tall grass, loitering near some highway, roaring at the tractor trailers speeding by.

NOTE: GOOD NEWS for Bernanke lovers. He just released a new rap video. I think you will like this one.

Well fuck me running sideways, racing against a gay giraffe driving an ice cream truck.

China eased bank reserve requirements by 50bps. This will likely toss gasoline onto the bullish fiery fire on Tuesday. However, it’s worth remembering, their fucking requirements are still 20%. In the big scheme of things, this is child’s play.

Nevertheless, I will most likely buy something, immediately, upon the opening of trade on Tuesday.