The Trap Has Been Laid

Dr. Benjamin Bernanke could not have timed his debut at Citadel more perfectly. As the sell off deepens, the good Dr., laid back in his chesterfield armchair, smoking a blunt made from 100% marijuana leaves, is laughing at the lot of you running about the house naked–attempting to cover margin calls.

Markets will remain uncooperative until the tone and tenor of its participants improves. Right now, it is infected with banana eating apes, parasitic faineantise accustomed to quick cash and little to no work.

Life is hard as a full time money manager, having to toil away for meager 7 figure compensation packages–forced to watch the teevee all day long and converse with people on the internets. But something tells me all of my hard work and mindful efforts will lay several golden eggs.

For one, as you fribble away in a wide swath of low quality stocks, “The Fly” remains entrenched in his stone forest of cancer stocks barely down on the day. While it’s true, my largest position JNS is down 3% for the day; it’s also true that B. “Fucking” Gross will have none of this shit on Monday. He gives zero fucks to the people who want to see JNS lower.

At the end of the day, we were overdue for a sell off. Rest assured that The PPT will, once again, guard against destructive trades in your peasant accounts–laying the foundation that you require to battle out from your housing tenements. All that is on sale today shall be purchased next week, at a time and place of Dr. Benjamin Bernanke’s choosing.

This might come as a surprise to some of you, but I enjoy a good market rout. Seeing the futures down 150 this morning gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Like I said, “The Fly” feeds off adversity and is at his best when the chips are stacked high against him.

World markets are being rocked, from Russia to China to our NASDAQS. In my opinion, this is an old parlour trick to get you to sell out before a most hedonistic melt up. New highs will be had again, persons of interest galavanting about town in robes, sandals, accompanied by copious amounts of incense. Castles occupied by chocolate eating slobs, rich from capital gains, will be our future.

I want 100 NADAQS to be shaved off the market today. Then, just when everyone is leaning one way and The PPT flags its divine OS signal, trebuchets will be deployed– turning all bears into chopped meat and sent to SHAK’s HQ to be sold as hammed burgers across the nation (extra cannibalism).

I don’t give a shit about down stocks. My second largest position, AGIO, is sticking pins in the heads of everyone. “The Fly” is immune to your voodoo.

Listen to me, Chinese stocks are being shot in the face and buried, thanks to the PBOC action to destroy people on margin. This all has a way of working out. Most of the time it results in the absolute dissolution of the plebeian class. The Third Estate has never had it so good, eating their MACDONALD burgers and frenched fries. Even Wal-mart is selling organic food now. Life is great for the impoverished.

I have no idea how I just went from China to the organic food aisle in WMT.

Early going, the sell off is hardcore, gangster rap style, circa 1993. You don’t want to venture off into that market right now. Ghouls are running rampant, led by their General, Blustar. If you’re not careful, Blue will trap you and rip your spine out from the front of your flabby torso.

Thank God I sold out of BITA the other day. Nonetheless, I am still long DSKY and have challenged Mother Market to “sit me down” in a very abrasive fashion. Let’s see what this bitch has in store for me, since I am feeling my oats and know that “The Legend of The Fly” is one not to be tested, or fucked with. I’m fatalistic, so try to stop me. You can’t.

Out.

Did you know that every single life changing event for me, thus far, started with agonizing pain? I don’t mean it in the literal sense; I’ve lived a charmed life in that regard (sans the time I had to drive myself to the hospital at 5am because my fucking appendix was set to explode). I am fueled by turmoil.

Growing up, I was accustomed to hard times, the unknown specter of harrowing circumstances abound. To this very day, I carry crosses and feel comfortable doing so. Everything bad that has ever happened is justified as a means to an end. Right now, despite my overzealous demeanor in the stocked market, I am eagerly waiting for a shoe to drop. It’s the reason why I am so brazen, mocking Mother Market for not having the balls to sit me down. Or, how about that asshole hedge fund manager who was shorting my stocks last year? I haven’t seen him show up in some time. You should sell short DSKY; it’s very illiquid.

What is the meaning of it all?

Legacy.

You weren’t put on earth to take up resources and increase the crime rate. Hopefully you can, in some big or small way, make a difference while you’re still healthy and strong. For me, my children are the most important, followed by everything else. There isn’t a particular order that I rank things after them. The way I see it, everything, except family, is transient.

“The Fly’s” legacy will be one of magnanimous gains, bloody battles, an army of energetic and savage followers, and dead, sworn, enemies– strewn across the internets. Truth is, when I first started blogging I viewed other bloggers as a form of competition (that’s funny, right?). It wasn’t long before I realized they were nothing but apes in search of bananas. Eventually, they’ll all kill themselves, leaving me as the sole financial blogger in the world.

In summary, I miss the fight. Punching retarded people in the face isn’t fun anymore. I need to see black skies, electricity reverberating throughout the atmosphere, and a tidal wave made from blood to wash across my house– leaving me idled like a fucked, forked, radish.

I was very optimistic about my prospects this morning. My second largest position, AGIO, went through the roof and the sun was setting on the last bear. Late in the afternoon, all of my stocks had erections, all headlong towards new highs.

DURING THE FINAL MINUTES OF TRADE, A LOT OF THAT CHANGED.

There were moments, perhaps even minutes, of sheer panic on my behalf. I went from +0.71% to +0.4%, without pause (no homo). It’s not the loss of capital that is alarming, but the rate of change. Frankly, this drama I speak of, this house of horrors filled with smokey mirrors, is an experience I’d rather not repeat again.

As I type this, my gains are recovering somewhat, up to 0.47%. This volatility will indeud be the death of me.

“HERE LIES A SPACE ALIEN MAGICIAN WHO PERISHED ON THE BEACHES OF WALL STREET, DEATH BY DRAMATIC RATE OF CHANGE DECLINE.”

Do not get drunk and cause fights in the saloon lads. Modify your tempers and come back to the field of battle tomorrow, in order to inflict permanent and everlasting (extra mum-ra) damage onto those who seek to destroy you.

I will now try to deal with the emotions that I am feeling now, only being up 0.43% for the day.

Ancient spirits are going to reveal themselves now and destroy the mongrels who are holding KITE back. Its shares are going to leap forward, thrusting though (pause) $66 on its way to $70. “The Fly”, thanks to this future gain, is going to become an admiral, leave the royal navy, and then become a pirate in search of even larger treasure.

Daily gains stand at 0.7%, well on my way to 20% for the year.

DEVELOPING…

I kicked out of BITA and some GRUB for profit. With the proceeds, I bought more china and drugs, long DSKY and KITE.

Let’s stop playing games here, shall we? The whole parlour trick thing is cute for a while: you feigning to be the most incompetent traders on the face of the earth and me pretending to give a fuck. What do you see this morning, aside from a little redness in the futures?

That’s right boys and girls, you see NFLX is up. If you recall, I predicted NFLX would double in 2015. Why is NFLX going higher?

Answer: the same reason why AMCX and GTN are going higher–boredom.

We are in the golden era of television. “A” list actors are clamoring to get a piece of teevee–because that’s where the action is. Companies like AMZN, AMCX, GTN and NFLX, are killing it as ad and subscription numbers balloon. We’re all bored, trying to find some sort of fucking meaning to our fleeting lives. Some of us get to attack countries for a living, and others get to toil away in a fucking office, trading stocks, blogging about penis decapitations.

It’s the reason why you come here, to visit a dark, sinister, yet benevolent and just man, talk about stocks and the trivialities of his life.

At the end of the day, we all want to be entertained.

My fucking arms are involuntarily punching people in the face now. That’s how hopped up I am on win. Step to me, ask me a question about a price to sales ratio, and you’re liable to get your jaw broken for you.

I don’t give a shit about the late day fade. I’m up almost 18% for the year thus far. I got Exodus ready to launch and advisors up my ass trying to get a piece of greatness.

You only live once (yolo) pal, so you might as well go balls to the wall when given the chance.

Speaking of which, how’d you like that close on DSKY?

Yeah buddy, that’s 100% premium cut winship for you right there.

Don't Bet Against Me from iBC on Vimeo.

I had some idle cash lying around, so I deployed it into DSKY.

A little background on DSKY.

Out of all the piece of shit stocks in my Chinese Burrito index, this one steals the crown. It is the worst performing Chinese stock, by far, making it all that more attractive to me. When you go into these knowing the company is entirely filled with shit, it’s liberating, yet invigorating, sort of like riding on a roller coaster without any guards. I’m just sort of pissing in the wind here, doing loop-d-loops, whilst holding on by the skin of my cock.

Hahaha.

Ok, back to work.