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Aiiiiiirrrrgggghhhh!!!  Freaking Barron’s just came out with a pow-pow-positive article on silver and on my two most recommended silver stocks.  It’s almost like those fuggers came and read my blog, all stoat-like and lubricious, and poached my babies SLW and PAAS  like King Alfred’s prized harts in Appledore Forest.

I hate them.

I hate them because they are widely known throughout all of Lower Mercia and East Anglia as “the Freaking Kiss of Death,” or “The Bloodsucking Whore-son’s Curse of the Market” and other less than salutory monikers for their ability to cream one’s favourite positions like whipped curds in Sam Breakstone’s oaken tub.  

What we can expect is a “dope-rush” likely on Monday and probably into Tuesday on both names, followed by a vicious spiking in the manner of Kerry Walsh and Misty May  playing a quick game of death-ball vs. my aging Uncle Leo, the retired Ft. Lauderdale orthodontist.

I will likely prepare my loins with a sale of some calls, as I have prodigious positions in both companies, and I know better than to spar with the wearwolves of Northumbria, otherwise known as the HFT’s who eat Barron’s lambs for Wednesday breakfast. 

I expect the storm will be over my Friday next, at the latest, but until then, make sure your loins are girded and your hatches battened.

Pax.

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