Full Review on Tuscany

Generally speaking, this region is interesting if only for its very old architecture, which is the reason why so many people visit it. This entire city of Florence hasn’t been upgraded since the 1300’s. The people don’t give a fuck about Twitter. Google isn’t a house hold name and heading out with friends for drinks and dating women is normal here. In other words, Tuscany is like America in the 80s but with buildings from the 1300’s.

They don’t have grande shopping malls, highways, or Targets. They shop at small piece of shit Carrefours, eat at sandwich shops, drink wine all night, and ride around on little scooters or bikes. The people are generally polite, but the men are masculine. You don’t see any soyboys at all and the African street vendors are extremely timid.

Would I live here?

Probably not. The only city I’ve visited so far that I’d live in is Edinburgh. London is very good too. Paris was beautiful but ancient and sort of backward like Florence and Milan. The trade off for not having all of the comfortable trappings of Globohomo is your kids grow up to know their genders. In that sense, every single European city I’ve visited so far is superior to most major American cities. The pace of life here is fast — but the place is also FESTOONED by tourists. Without tourism, all of these places would collapse.

Tomorrow I depart for Rome.

I’m very tired and have to wake up at 6am to go for a 7 hr tour of the Tuscan countryside and also take pictures of myself holding up the tower of Pisa with my cock. Just kidding, this is a family site.

What can I say about today?

I had extreme high anxiety about catching the Milan train to Florence, since I was the only one paying attention to the time. But I don’t want to come across as this giant piece of shit complain box — because I’m not. I just do it for you losers reading the blog. In real life, I’m stoic, not out of choice but necessity. Because if I really let me true feelings bust loose, I’d be in a lunatic asylum.

Grandma Fly hated all things today, especially the pizza in Florence. She said it had “no sale” and was “terible”. Almost everywhere we go the Europeans offer her special treatment because she’s old and with cane. In America, they toss her out of the way and try to grab her purse on her way down.

Back in the olde days when I had hopes and aspirations, I used to get really excited over things. I’d hypofocus on everything and obsess with small details to elevate whatever experience I was into at the time. For example, if I had planned this trip a decade ago, I’d have reservations for bucket list restaurants to visit and lots of stuff to do. Nowadays, I find this to be futile, since I’m with people who really don’t care if we ate at the best trattoria in the world or MACDONALDS. Truth is, I really don’t care and just wade through it in order to achieve finality.

Sure, I might indulge and even check out Yelp before bed and get somewhat excited about a thing. But just know, my dreams will be shattered shortly thereafter by demands that we spend time to be true out to do laundry. Now this might seem insane to you, as it is to me. But I’ve come to appreciate the dumber things in life and have resigned myself to doing just 1 thing with extreme care and excellence: my trading.

Notice I’ve been off from trading and barely blogging or keeping up with the war news and rooting for Putin. See, I’m a good person and some might say I deserve good things. But I’ll never expect it and I’ll never do anything for credits, points, or adoration.

It’s over for me. But if you’re younger than me, it’s not too late for yourselves to save your life from becoming racked with abject insanity.

My opinion of Florence is as follows:

This is the best part of Italy so far and the people are authentic. The city hasn’t been updated since the 1300s and they haven’t removed the fucking city walls or gates yet. It’s orders of magnitude better than Milan, which was a filthy city covered in graffiti. The one thing that concerned me about Florence when I first entered it was an over abundance of whites. I actually feared for my safety but soon came upon several dozen Africans as black as coal and felt relieved and better almost instantly.

NOTE: Our very elaborate and extensive tour of Tuscany angered ANTIFA Fly just now upon learning he had to actually leave the bus to walk. He was hoping to just walk around eating pizza and insulting family members at his leisure — but now finds himself with the responsibility of needing to exert energy to see wonderful scenery and historically important artifacts that will neither impress him or leave him with anything remotely positive to say about it. Again, I take full responsibility for this.

CIAO.

Suffice to say, it was a harrowing trip from Paris — but I made it here and immediately directed my party of 6 to the best restaurant in Milan, as a walk in, without reservations. I just walked in there dressed in a t shirt and pants and demanded to be seated. The hostess despised me but luckily there was a vacancy!

So I got to eat and laugh and drink wine, in spite of her seething. Same shit happened to me in Paris. I just strolled into a two Michelin star rated bistro like I owned the place, didn’t bother to finish my food, and walked out like I had just eaten McDonald’s.

Grandma Fly was furious at me today because I made her toss out her gelato as we went into the restaurant. She claimed it was the best she’s ever had and I told her that I was “yo soy MUY terible.” She was equally mortified by my meal, which consisted of TWO PASTA dishes and a main course of pork, accompanied by a bottle of wine. I was berated heavily for being a “boracho” and also a “puerco” for piggishly devouring all of my food and drink.

My opinion of Milan was pure hatred up until I chanced upon the Duomo, which was festooned by party goers and drunkards dancing to EDM music in from of high end fashion shoppes. I could see myself at 25 or even 35 thinking this is possibly the best place in the world. But then I remembered I was a week away from 47 and hated it again.

Tomorrow we depart for Florence by train and I fully expect a flurry of complaints and demands from my companions, such as cabs coming too slow, a fully curated itinerary not maximized enough for joy and leisure, and also general complaints for starvation and thirst.

I saw there was a big day in markets today and I lost money since my phone was dead and I was stuck with just DRIP. I’m 100% sure that if I wasn’t getting ripped off at a Parisian wine bar with a dead phone, I would’ve crushed the market. Alas, I’m cornered by Grandma Fly and ANTIFA Fly both hating on the Louvre because they’ve both seen paintings before and the walking was just too much to bear.
I realize now and have realized this for a long time that I’ve made many mistakes in my life and most of them are IRREVERSIBLE. You don’t see these mistakes when young because you enjoy believing in lies. You only see the fruits of your labors later and then come to see, if you’re honest enough, that much of what you tried to achieve flopped.

I only mention this because failure is something I’ve come to not only accept but appreciate. Look at my positions today, totally fooled and a loser because the day prior I was super bearish. All of that logic went right out the window, as usual.

It’s good to be coarse and hard on oneself to keep the edges sharp and not let life break you and make you soft. You’ll never catch me slipping, lest you find me inside of a fucking Parisian wine bar with asshole Frenchies double charging me for their middling Burgundy.

Tomorrow I depart for Milan and I’m sure this DRIP nonsense will lose me even more money tomorrow. I’ve been on a news and market blackout, opting to traverse Europe with very heavy luggage in an effort to find truth and enjoy the splendor of an insane people.

Greetings from Paris

I’m in a very urban area with “real Parisians”, lots of Africans and Moroccans. They attempt to sell me roasted chestnuts in the street but I kindly ask them to fuck off and go about my day fielding complaints from Mrs Fly. She actually loves Paris and I suppose you can say I like it too. But truth be told, fuck all of these people. I do prefer a fine English town over this foreign language varietal. I will cede the food is much better and the buildings are prettier. But on a whole, the French people are an inferior lot and you can see why the Germans bested them so easily.

Grandma Fly is doing quite well, angrier than ever. She was just commenting about how “fea” one of the lamps was in this Airbnb. Earlier today I went out like a faggot and bought some wine and cheese. I’ve been collecting booze my entire trip but do not dare to drink any — since it will confirm Grandma Fly’s long suspicions that I am a “borracho.”

Also, I’m not in a great mood either, since the whole House Fly goes to Europe trip is folly upon folly. I’ve been designated as the official tour guide of the country by Mrs Fly and whenever I veer down the wrong block and I immediately reprimanded of my errors. Normally I might toss her down a sewer pipe and go about my day; but with the kids and Grandma around it makes it very hard.

As for the market, I gained 17bps so far long semis. I will close high cash and net short via FAZ and DRIP. There isn’t a quant this week so fuck off.

Very soon, we head out for dinner, which will be uncomfortable, awkward, generally unpleasant, and expensive.

As for Versailles: very gauche and middling, completely uninspired.

BONJOUR!

Good day chaps

House Fly arrived in Paris today and almost immediately I accidentally ordered snails to eat, so I did. I’m with my very religious and extremely old and fragile mother in law who at each sip of wine called me “BORACHO”, which means alcoholic in Spanish. Also, upon each fork of food she reminded my wife and I that excess might indeed lead to becoming “MUY GORDO”, which amused me greatly. I cannot take offense to her staid behavior because it appeals to me. However, Mrs Fly was and is greatly chagrined by the ordeal. Grandma Fly had “ONLY SOPA” for dinner, skipping over the delicious snails and other French delicacies, which were not for her. I did remind her that I intended to become “QUITE ROTUND” by the time we’ve reached Italy and had every intent to each massive amounts of food and drink.

As for the snails: quite chewy, but good.

As for markets: lovely. I made 35bps today in extremely light trading. I suspended the quant for the week and will be CAVORTING at Versailles tomorrow with Grandma Fly in tow, driving her madly inside the rented golf cart.

We fled Scotland for London today, which I immediately felt that I hated. The whites are subjugated to taxis and fish n chip shoppes whilst the based Arabs run rampant amongst the high end stores throughout the city sopping up all over the overpriced nonsense because their oil daddies said it was possible.

On Friday I traded myself back to breakeven but generally hated the market. I wasn’t near the market or watched it for most of last week, but felt it was wrong and off, so naturally I hated it.

Truth is, I’ve always hated the market since it blew me to smithereens back in 2000. For a while I got over it during the aughts and then 2008 came around and solidified my hatred for it. We then had the Greek crisis, non stop Fed rigging, Trump cheerleading bullshit, COVID lockdowns and the last year’s inflation panic.

It’s all bullshit.

Tomorrow we venture off for the fucking castle but the railmen are striking, which is bound to piss off a lot of middle eastern nepotism babies. I’ll likely get myself an Uber and spend $200 for someone to drive me around as I update my twitter feed en route to seeing an all important castle to marvel at the splendor of the ruling class in all of their gauche grandeur.

I’m in Edinburgh today eating haggis, buying up all of the cheap scotch sold here at absurdly cheap values. Much to my chagrin, I got my face punched off in the market today, losing 1.2% mostly thanks to an errant position in BFLY, which was blown out.

I expected as much and should warn anyone mirroring me inside Stocklabs to cease at once until I get back in the states. I closed with a 20% hedge against longs in TZA and a RUM position, based off some whims.

As for the city of Edinburgh, I fit right in. I look and act just like these people and should probably live here. I’ll be here for another day and then off to London, where I fully expect to get into knife fights with Africans.

Should my plane blow up en route to Europe, just know that I never liked any of you and feel happy to have hated you all of these years. I’ve spent a good portion of my entire life fending off animals in these halls, blocking and banning — always fighting with malcontents — who thankfully have mostly gone away since Twitter took over and Stocklabs Pelican Room dominates the discussion.

Nevertheless, I remain obstinate in the belief that I am the very best trader in the world and will continue to believe that until my last dying breath.

On that notion, I am DOWN 50BPS in what could be my last trading session — thanks to quantitative chicanery and a market filled with tricks and follies. Everyone piled in this morning after the CPI data and were soon dispatched with losses — because we already know all of that shit. The only thing that matters, dare I say, is whether or not THE CHARLES SCHWAB CORPORATION is bankrupted or not. I have a liberal piece of shit customer inside Stocklabs who used to be a bank analyst and thinks I am crazy for even suggesting it. In between his UNICEF and DNC galas, this person has concluded there is no banking crisis and it’s all made up by right wing nut jobs attempting to dissuade the American people from supporting LGBTQI and Ukrainian rights in Kiev.

I can only hope and pray to my God that he is wrong and his Satanic belief in banks dispatched seaward. I remain steadfast in my belief that, for example, it’s all a scam. This paranoia helps fuel my cogent investment stratagems of 150% leveraged and hedged net SHORT because fuck you — that’s why.

I have another friend who I named “The Devil” because he looks like what I imagine the devil would look like. He’s also very bullish and attends NATO gatherings whenever they throw soirees in NYC. He’s a big believer in virtually anything the government does and says — and has received in excess of 5 BOOSTER shots to date — because why the fuck not? If it’s good for Pfizer it’s good for him. After all, trusting the science and men like Dr. Fauci is what life is all about. At any rate, he’s bullish, like I said, but deep down — not so much. He only pretends because of the fun nature when pretending and his LONG ONLY hedge fund demands it.

Lastly, I have a Polish customer inside Stocklabs who is very much like me — but with a little more hair and less grit. He likes to CAVORT around Chicago in stretched limousines and listen to gangster rap music — whilst perusing looters in his neighborhood shop. He’s also very bearish, like me, and has a very good knack for trading ranges. If I should perish during my trip, I’d strongly suggest heeding his trading advice and dietary recommendations. However, I do suggest you strongly ignore his opinions on cigars, wine, art, and anything of cultural value — as he was born and raised in a country that feeds its people cold cabbage for breakfast and doesn’t really have worthwhile contributions to consider it to be a first rate power.

Ciao and good day!

Fly

I’ll probably squeeze in another blog before departing tomorrow evening. I am fairly certain my trip will include some sort of global financial meltdown — because my narcissism demands it.

I had a fine day, +75bps in precision trading — taking a little here and a little there. I closed with a 15% hedge via TZA against a 100% long book but a book filled with low beta stocks — barely anything I’d consider high risk.

Since it’s earnings season, make sure to keep track of the earnings calendar in order to avoid unintentional rapes. You’d be surprised how horribly some misses can treat a stock. Remember to keep those position sizes down to around 5% and stops tight and the #1 rule above all others is to never blow up. We all trade like shit at times and some tapes are just too difficult to navigate — making it important to get small and real humble when you begin to struggle. Me being the seasoned veteran and all prefer to trade aggressively when slumping. But understand something, I am an elite status trader, with over 40,000 hours of experience doing this shit. You’d beclown yourself attempting to behave as I do in markets as difficult as this one.

That being said, eventually everything goes up. When I say “everything”, I am specifically referring to very big companies with market caps of $50b and up. If you believe your micro cap stock is the next Amazon, you’re an idiot. If you believe your $1b market cap stock will 10x, you’re an idiot.

If you really really want the secret to accumulating wealth, look no further than compounded returns over 30 years and know that your task isn’t to make 1,000% per annum, but instead adding to your accounts every month and earning a return greater than 20% per annum for the next 3 decades. If you can do that, I promise you your rotten spoiled brat kids will be very pleased about their inheritance once you drop dead.