I don’t go to your house and tell you what brand of disinfectant to use when mopping the floor. I don’t barge into your office and demand that you swap out your old/bullshit blackberry, for a more advanced iPhone. Do not come here, to my internet office, and tell me—emphatically—how I should be managing money. I’ve been doing this shit for too long, too well, to take advice from anyone.
Let me explain my arrogance more specifically. If Warren Buffett himself came up to me and said “hey Fly, you’re a really neat guy. Why don’t you buy some Goldman Sachs Group, Inc. [[GS]] ?” I’d tell Warren to go fuck himself and to quit interfering in another mans business.
Most of you readers out there are mechanics or bullshit attorneys. You have to understand, this is my field of expertise. There is nothing that I take more seriously, than zigging through your zags.
For example: I own a shit load of Treasuries now, via [[TLT]] . And, I have some exposure to a badly bruised ETN: [[VXX]] , which will SOAR, should the market decline.
Do you seriously think I need you to lecture me, a God amongst men, about the inflation scenario and how it pertains to U.S. debt, with respects to yield? Or, do you think (be honest now) that I need to be reminded of how fucked up [[VXX]] has performed, during this bull run—an era without volatility?
Your financial advice is not appreciated and is of great offense to me.
See folks, when visiting iBC, you need to walk on egg shells. One comment too sly and you’re fucking banned for life. One little derogatory remark about the good/honest people at Goldman Sachs— and you disappear off the face of this site. All traces gone. Poof!, as if you never even existed.
In summary, “The Fly” wins all the time, even when you think you are right. I siphon your winship!
It’s a low probability bet, fucking with Senor Tropicana. I highly recommend you to go fuckkkkk yourself, instead of messing around with a space alien magician carrying a blood stained clawhammer.
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