yelloluver
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Birthday: 9/12/1978
Gender: Male


Occupation: Makin Ends Meet
Industry: Me and whomever else is along


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Member Since: 2/6/2003

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Thursday, September 11, 2008

A Long Solitary Journey Completed....

Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses?
You been out ridin’ fences for so long now
Oh, you’re a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin’ you
Can hurt you somehow

Don’ you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
She’ll beat you if she’s able
You know the queen of heats is always your best bet

Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can’t get

Desperado, oh, you ain’t gettin’ no youger
Your pain and your hunger, they’re drivin’ you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that’s just some people talkin’
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

Don’t your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won’t snow and the sun won’t shine
It’s hard to tell the night time from the day
You’re loosin’ all your highs and lows
Ain’t it funny how the feeling goes away?

Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin’, but there’s a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it’s too late




Thursday, August 16, 2007

02/16/06

Soooooo...

here we are sitting at the baddest poker table in the world: the global markets. Someone here, might be a whale or might be the sucker, is sweating bullets. They are sweating bullets because theyre doing just like everyone else, the carry trade, but they made some small mistake somewhere. Maybe they took a loan on his clients money's and bought himself a South Beach condo, or maybe he used it to engratiate himself with the elite in NYC or Greenwhich and show that, he too, could donate vast sums of money to have University Buildings or Performance halls named after him. Regardless, with the borrowe money more expensive than his holdings, his margin for error aint so great.

And now thingas are getting juicy. Hes got all his chips on the table. And a lot more of the house's chips mixed in to boot. "But darn that stack looks big," he thinks to himself. Maybe" so big people will buy his bluff and think hes too big to fail." Plus,he thinks,  I got Hedge fund written all over me. And im from NYC, Cali, Greenwhich,  biotch!

"So?" .It aint even his own money he trades with. He makes fees.

meanwhile the 100 to 1 thing worked great magnifying his profits on the way up, but now they murdering him on the way down.

So hes holdin out. What else can he do? He knows, if he starts sellin, every other HF manager out there is thinking the same thing. And the lemmings that they are, inspite of the quarter millino dollar degrees, they would still all rush for the doors at the same time as soon as they smell someone running for the doors first. This particluar lemming knows hes not gonna be able to get out alive IF, WHEN, thats the case. So all he does is wait, hope and pray. And we wait here with them. and fuck hoping and praying.

and what exactly is it they're waiting, hoping, praying  for?

Hell if i care. They're already dead men.


Friday, November 03, 2006



There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries; on such a full sea we are now afloat; and we must take the current clouds folding and unfolding beyond the horizon when it serves, or lose our ventures.

W.S.


Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Life is about fat tails. Period.

 "smart" people always seem to ignore this truth. If you go (prior to the last few months of course)  to mmm, oh say, hi high ranking republican/demorcat (political pissant if you will) from harvard or yale or another "name brand" instituition, and you say: " what are the chances of a few cat 4 /5 storms hitting the gulf disrupting the US centers of gas, fuel and transportation.   in a single hurricane season, theyll laugh at your face.

Another example would say go to a super duper wall st banker in Ritzy NYC w bright lights and bustling noise and say; " what say you good sir about a largest financial calamity affecting all knave alike? poor, rich, educated, retarded? say good sir, a crash of infinite degree." theyd laugh at you in their 3k suite, penthouse w wife and mistres/es in SoHo  and tell you to find a well charging financial advisor to alleviate you of your fears.

LIfe isnt about the 27615 days of your life where everyhting was normal, but the other 10 where they didnt. actually say 8 cause the first two are gonna be your birth and your death.  And thats a nice "Fat"  % .02896 of your life.

You might disagree, and in fact, decent betting man that i am, im sure you are. Im also pretty sure youd listen to the harvard grad and the guy in the nice spiffy suit. Alas, that is why history repeats itself, again and again.

So take a deep breath and truly conteplate your genius. Shits bout to hit the fan. and there aint no better time to shine than in the pitch fuckin dark. The mother of all fat tails comes this way.












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