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Dr. Fly

18 years in Wall Street, left after finding out it was all horseshit. Founder/ Master and Commander: iBankCoin, finance news and commentary from the future.

Exhilarating Blissfulness of Decadent Joy

Today I shall forage my local eateries, in celebration of my latest win.

Don’t try to do what I do at home; you’re simply too stupid to figure it out. I’ve been at this trade for a long time and take it seriously. Mind you, there is no fucking around with me.

Into the bell, I was fully invested, 50% long, 50% cash. My top picks vary. Go check today’s posts for details. God willing, I will be selling some of the lesser quality names in my portfolios, inside of a week.

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Fly Buy: AXP

I bought 20,000 AXP in the high $11.90’s.

Disclaimer: If you buy AXP because of this post, your only daughter will marry Zach Karabell. And, you may lose money.

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Fly Buys: LOGI, NTGR, TNA

I bought 10,000 LOGI @ $7.97, 10,000 NTGR @ $10.70 and 10,000 TNA @ $12.05.

Disclaimer:
If you buy the above stocks because of this post, the SEC will shut down your bullshit hedge fund and put you in prison. And, you may lose money.

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Up, Up and Away

Seriously dude, don’t fuck around with shorts here. There is a series of news events pending that will drive this market higher, over the next week or so. If caught short during this squeeze, you will regret living and might end up shooting yourself in the face with a howitzer.

We are now in the “no short zone,” where only idiots get decoupled from their coin. Once they announce the reinstatement of the uptick rule and suspension of mark to market accounting, we will rip 20% from here.

On a very personal level, I will allocate 50% of my assets long. The remainder will remain in cash, indefinitely.

Nevertheless, into this spike, I like PCR, KIM, JRJC, CY, TNA, WNR, UYM and maybe a little NTGR.

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Fly Buy: KIM

I bought 15,000 KIM @8.40ish.

UPDATE: If you buy KIM because of this post, you will die. And, you may lose money.

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Bears Lose a Leg

I hope you learned your lesson, again. Fuck around, get on the other side of my trade and end up losing your house.

That’s right, today is all about smoking peace pipes and doing “victory dances,” while chuckling at you coffin fuckers. So many of you little women were thinking the market would go down indefinitely. Now you’re fucked.

A bank reported good news! Citi said they are making money, which, as a point in fact, is a license for bulls to rips off the limbs of greedy bears, such as yourself.

I warned you of the murderholes. I told you to protect your cock, while trading. Now, you get steel daggers to the chest.

As for me:

I am simply bowling in the office, doing healthy shit, living life the way it should be lived, if you know what I mean. Now that I am all right and shit, again, I intend to write a book about my exploits and inform all of you death seeking faggots how “The Fly” kept winning, despite not ever trying. It’s sort of like breathing oxygen: it just happens.

With my money, I like TNA, JRJC, CY, UYM, PCR and WNR (I bought some back).

With the market ripping higher like this, I might take a stab at a highly speculative financial.

Stay tuned.

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The Important Matter of Mr. Doodles

Mr. Doodles was enjoying a generous serving of saltine crackers, cheddar cheese and a tall glass of water, at his dining room table, when his furnace rudely exploded. Quickly, he finished the plate of saltines, grabbed the cheese knife and glass of water, then raced over to the furnace, which had caught fire from the explosion. Thinking fast, Mr. Doodles threw his glass of water at the blaze, put his cheese knife on top of the flaming furnace, then waited for results.

Unfortunately, it had no effect.

Still quick on his toes, Mr. Doodles raced upstairs to get a fire extinguisher, that he kept neatly tucked away in the attic. Before grabbing the fire extinguisher, he went to his computer and checked on some emails, in a rushed fashion of course, for he was expecting some sort of very important reply. Cognizant of the task at hand, Mr. Doodles grabbed the fire extinguisher and hurried downstairs to fight the blaze.

When he got there, much to his chagrin, half of the furnace room was set ablaze and spreading fast to the living room. In valorous fashion, at the top of his lungs, he yelled at the blaze, saying: “Who art thou approaching my plasma television? I shall slay thee with this vat of foam!”

Before he uttered another word, the telephone in the dining room rang out. Quickly, he dropped the fire extinguisher and raced for the phone. He chatted away for about 5 minutes, while chewing on some saltines. Then he excused himself, exclaiming: “I art thou a fucking blaze to extinguish.”

By now, the blaze had spread to his living room and was about to devour his prized plasma television and silly DVD collection.

Mr. Doodles, with the firmness of a penis under the influence of 10 viagra pills, picked up the fire extinguisher and shouted out: “Thou art as good as a cadaver, old blaze. I shall slay you where you stand.” However, at that very moment, Mr. Doodles felt like smoking a cigarette.

Hurried, Mr. Doodles took out a Pall Mall cigarette and used the adjacent blaze to light it. Frantically and furiously, he puffed away at his cigarette, while watching and cursing the wretched blaze, as it spread from room to room, ripping through all of Mr. Doodles’ prized possessions, including his silly DVD collection.

Finally, he finished the much needed cigarette, and said to the blaze: “Motherfucker, I shall blow thee to the cliff and laugh at your burial. Prepare for death!”

With grit and determination, Mr. Doodles picked up the fire extinguisher and began to douse the stubborn inferno, with great zeal. Elated in triumph, Mr. Doodles sang songs of victory, as he put down the conflagration; when all of a sudden, a secondary explosion occurred in the furnace room, sending his cheese knife whizzing to his person, conclusively cutting off his cock.

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Rolling Disaster

No respite.

Here I am, like some sort of CNBC asshat, waiting for a rally. I even got all excited and shit when the market went green this morning, thinking “This is it! We’re gonna fucking rally.”

I was elated with thoughts of walking around in white robes and leather sandals, basking in large capital gains. I planned to make fun of short sellers, while smoking cigars and eating caviar. Instead, I get a steel tipped boot to the face.

Warren Buffett is a fucking loser. I hope his stock goes to zero, with no breaks along the way. Straight to zero, then prison.

This is bullshit. I’m losing money over here, waiting for these jackasses in D.C. to get their acts together. From what I see now, I’ll be waiting until 2012, before the market can mount a rally.

For the love of green pickles and purple bags of marijuana, we’re fucked in a very egregious way.

Truth be told, I’ve had enough. First thing tomorrow morning, I am selling out of my longs and going on siesta. I need to take naps and drink beer. I need to drive around the city, in search of adventure.

My long exposure is limited, so all of this doom and gloom shit has little effect on me. At this point, losing money in this tape hurts my ego. It’s getting in the way of me making fun of you and that, as you know, is unacceptable.

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