CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

Facebook is up big after hours since reporting earnings.  We are getting sympathy moves in GRPN, TWTR, ANGI, and YELP.  I have a big heaping pile of exposure to all of these names, as well as many others, in a book of risk I can only describe as an autonomous, morphing blob hell bent on consuming all internet traders into its belly.

I continued my buying campaign today, chugging down calls in AMBA and common in CUDA like a raver six molly deep.  I have consumed a disgusting amount of caffeine over the last 48 hours, toiling over market charts and building my next empire, something much bigger than anything you see on these interwebs.  I smell like a Monster and old ladies are scoffing at me while I walk around in deep-V t-shirts in the arctic north.  I do this because it reminds me I am still a living entity and not a zombie robot.

The market has pressed the boot deep into my stomach, yet it cannot make me regurgitate the libations boiling in my gut.  I have no interest in ending the party.  If I must, I will BE the party.

If my prophecies prove correct, educated guesses built on the knowledge and labor of elder generations, then I stand to make a great sum of money in February.  I stand to make a great deal of money and it all starts with tomorrow’s sit.  I will sit here, sucking down chili dogs and guzzling flaggarts of ale while the little bitches get their quick fix and take profits.  Hell, I may even take out the lever and buy some MOAR.

IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: LinkedIn is for old men with the poopy trousers to rub one another off.  That being said, I have tuned up my profile as part of my continued quest to infiltrate and dominate the business community.

I have already divulged too deeply into my plans.  Now I must go spoil my body with iron work designed to create perfect symmetry and posture.  Hide your wives and tell you kids about a brave man who roams the internet, in a loin cloth, trading these stocks.