Off to a Good Start

With the dissolution of the ECB and OPEC, I am expecting a full liquidation to take place inside of the Russian stock market, if that’s what they’re still calling it. The phantom oil sheiks from the middled east prefer lower crude prices because their minds are diseased. They fancy themselves to be William Wallace, with sharpened sticks on the ground, preparing for the right moment to raise them and stop the onslaught of the English Heavy Horses–racing to  smash apart their heads with their stupid horse shoes.

But the reality is, in ten centuries no army has won without a heavy calvary.

The rout in oil, although a boon for the lower class welfare guy playing lotto at his corner bodega, is a ruinous cancer for global growth. All of you, each and every one of you, will regret the moment you applauded deflation, sometime in the not-so-distant future.

You know, it’s almost worthwhile to unmask myself, just so that I could throw furniture at the clam-fuckers at CNBC for proposing we raise rates immediately. It’s as if these creatures were sent from the blue lagoon to feed us bad information and horrible advice. Mind you, if the Federal Reserve were to raise rates now, western finance as we know it would cease to exist in 3 months time.

The lot of you would perish at the hands of arsonists and you’d be tossed into shallow graves to become fertilizer, which is rather ironic since you’re all worth shit right now.

As for me, I’ll be hiding out in my lair, whose entry way is none other than a 10,000 year old sarcophagus, eagerly awaiting to buy more hamburger stock (Extra HABT).

Who are you brainless sub-humans anyway? Do you know how many people we’ve had to ban since inception? You people are 100% ridiculous, unable to have a conversation without defecating over yourselves. The market is plunging lower and there you are attributing universal occurrences to the words that I typed into a blog. I have news for you: these are merely coincidences. People with fairy dust didn’t perform magic based upon my blogs.

As everything falls to pieces, the biotech world is celebrating the second coming of Jonas Salk. All of my biotech stocks are up, and up a lot. Frankly, as the market burns, in no shape or form can I think of a scenario where this ends badly for people buying today. Clearly there is some form of paranormal activity in the sector, enabling it to levitate off the ground as hamburger stocks get beaten back into chopped meat.

A grande beginning to what I expect to be a grande year. Thus far, the Federal Reserve policy of raising interest rates into a deflationary vortex looks like something the market can really appreciate right now. After all, we need to normalize rates, so that idiots with CD’s can earn a decent rate of return again–you know, for their retirement.

The Nazi dictator, Angela Merkel, mentioned the specter of a “Grexit”, or as normal people would refer to as a welcomed and deserving tragedy for the people of Greece. All of the loungers and rusticates in the Greek isles might be forced to work 8 hour days, away from booze and cigarettes, in the event of european welfare being rescinded from their greasy fingers. Naturally, they should all be rather content to have sufficient places to sleep and eat, given their inimical history of gross ineptitude. Most people in the western world associate the Greek populace as lovers of sodomy, rather than being an industrious, studious, type.

Oil is trading lower, as is the recent custom to do so. The black, criminal, hearts of the OPEC members should burn in hell, twice over, for the volatility they’ve thrusted upon us (just the hearts, mind you). These men are villainous scoundrels, operators of harems, filled with drugs and beautiful women, and other things that I’d never want in my life. The nerve of them charging 50% less for the very same crude they sold to us 4 months ago. I want a refund for all of the rip off gasoline I was forced to purchase over the past 6 years. And more, I want reparations.

Perusing over the internets, I was stunned to find so many stock market finaglers, experts in the art of trading mastery, rooted in magic from the orient. Here I thought the world of finance started and ended at iBankCoin. Apparently, there is a whole world of charlatans and primitives out there, posting pictures of luxurious items, in order to curry the favour of weak minded booze hounds. Shall I post a picture of my foot inside of a rented Ferrari, reminding you that this month’s lease was paid for by one of my many successful swing trades?

Most of these chaps aren’t qualified to work an onion patch, let alone manage serious money on behalf of people with rational goals, on a professional scale. It’s not that I hate these people, or possess even the slightest feelings of jealously. It’s just that I wish to kill them all and set their bones  aflame, mash them into dust, and then flush them down a toilet. Not any toilet of course–especially not one of my own. No,  I’d have to travel to a filthy pub somewhere– in a dark, backward city– to accomplish the deed. Perhaps I could film their ashes, accompanied by their faux Rolex watches, as they succumb to the inevitable coriolis force of the toilet flushing them away? This is the only way to describe the method by which one would dispose of such characters, paired with hand organ and monkey type thinking, rich with superstition.

It was a long week and I am glad the market will be closed for the next two days. In the meantime, I invite you to check out and subscribe to the IIR, created by Cain Thaler. If you want some good dividend ideas or ones to avoid, crafted by a trained mathematician, this is for you.

It looks like I’ll close the day flat, coming back from a 0.8% deficit, earlier this afternoon. I’ll take it.

I could’ve been anything: a shyster lawyer, astronaut, trash man, CNBC anchor–anything at all. But when I was 10 years old, for no reason whatsoever, I decided that I wanted to be a stock broker. Since then I followed the market and began to invest. Its been a long time since I felt honored to be in this fuckhead of an industry, the NY Mets of career choices.

There isn’t enough money to pay me to do this forever. There will come a day when I wake up and say “fuck it”, hop onto an airplane, and disappear into the rocks of Romania. I know you think Fly is just being Fly; but I am dead serious. Everything is wrong about this industry. I do, however, enjoy the blog and talking about stocks. I also enjoy making money in stocks and dealing with drawbacks. My issue is wasting time.

For example: we all know QE is coming, yet no one will admit it–not even the Fed. We all see TLT and what is transpiring in the commodity markets. All brains are on pause and the circus act continues. So, I have to wait and wait and wait to be proven right, which will eventually happen. From GPRO to FRO, all of my ideas will be proven right, eventually.

I know HABT trades like it invented cancer, which is why I am dollar cost averaging once per month for 12 months. I’ve bought the stock in three months and will continue to buy it for another 9. Using that logic, it is in my best interest to see HABT trade down to $5.

Do you see how stupid this all is?

After a dumb day at work, I get to mope about the house, muttering to myself about how stupid the world is, drowning my thoughts into a large goblet of 2005 Bordeaux.

In the meantime, I get to sift through flaming garbage, taking in the aromas of fatalistic capitalism–betting on its future.

Ironies abound!

Like a good solider, I ran into an enemy minefield and dodged a few dozen volleys of artillery shelling, just so that I could buy a hamburger.

I added to my HABT position. I have 9 months of buying to go.

If you were expecting a new market, with brand new stocked market gains, today you were reintroduced to the torture chamber that is equities. TLT is at new highs and commodities are circling around the toilet bowl again.

It is deflation, gentlemen. Every aspect of your lives is deflating, from your social status, to your adventures at the mall, to your common stock portfolio filled with AAPL. Life, as you know it, is trying to change. But the Federal Reserve and their counterparts abroad are trying to keep the status quo going. They are opposed to a Mad Max world, where human skin is sold on the open market, and cannibalism is considered a legitimate form of sustenance.

When I saw the market +100 this morning, I refrained from celebrating over a nice blog and bottle of champagne. Instead, I waited for the pain and agony to take hold. Now I am here to celebrate, one way or another.

Most of my stocks are lower and the market is doing exactly what it did in 2014.

Surprise and welcome to your funeral.

Following an off year, “The Fly” is geared up (extra commando) and ready to resume his supremacy in the capital markets. The first week of January is always the most important. It sets the tone for the year and is crucial in determining mood and sentiment.

I step forth into 2015, not as a broken man across the rocks and gravel, but one keenly intent on redemption. I am like a shark circling a pirate ship, waiting for someone to take a swim.

Early going, I expect bounce back rallies in a lot of beaten down industries, then more of the same. Remember, earnings are around the corner and these oil companies are going to disappoint and scurry about to raise capital. It would be wise to profit from the coming reflation trade, segue out of it, then re-focus your efforts on industries who benefit from cheap energy.

Cash and half measures are reserved for the weak and mediocre. I am not interested in making a little bit of money, God damn it. I want it all.

NOTE: iBankCoin’s Income Investment Report launches tomorrow. This is a report prepared by Cain Thaler, highlighting dividend opportunities and ones to avoid.

Quit being a cheap ham and egger and hire a driver to drive your drunk ass about town. Next thing you know, your big, giant, fat, head is split down the middle–through the windshield–because you wanted to operate the automobile whilst drinking 40 ounces of malted liquor.

I hope everyone enjoys the New Year’s festivities. If you had a bad year, sweep it under the old 2014 rug and start anew tomorrow. I am very ritualistic on New Year’s eve, for it is the night of renewed hope and reaffirmed commitments.

I can’t believe it’s 2015 already. I remember New Year’s eve, 1999, like it was yesterday, hauling the fucking gallons of water up the stairs, for Mrs. Fly, who actually believed all of the computers were going to melt down because the number “2000” was too much of a burden for our antiquated computers to handle (cue visions of giant IBM computers circa 1955). Me, being a regular jackass, went to go buy them to make her feel happy, safe, and like I gave a crap about clean water and living in a post apocalyptic world.

She doesn’t know what you already know. “The Fly” WAS FUCKING BORN TO LIVE IN A POST APOCALYPTIC ERA, ONE THAT ESCHEWED STRONG MEN AND TRIBAL LEADERS, A TIME WHEN A MAN WITH AN ORBITAL SPACE CANNON (OSC) WOULD REIGN SUPREME AND ALL FELLOW FINANCE BLOGGERS BOWED DOWN TO HIS SUPREME, YET ELEGANT, RULE.

Happy New Year’s.

-Fly
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twnUE2yLdZA