The molly-coddled, wet-nursed bulls who can’t take one iota of pain and demand a government bailout at the slightest loss are running around in a panic this morning, as they can’t understand their their stonks aren’t going up all the time like mommy promised.
Of course, my ceaseless contempt for these pestilential Powell-worshippers knows no limits, and is alloyed merely at the prospect of a substantial topping pattern which is hammering its way to a hoped-for completion.
In the unlikely even that the son-of-a-bitch Powell doesn’t pull another multi-trillion dollar stunt to abort it, a completed H&S on the Russell would be pretty spectacular. Of course, my hope is largely vanquished, since this corrupt bastard, who has manipulated worldwide markets to his own personal benefit, would have his own kids shot if it would help enrich him and his billionaire buddies. These people have no souls.
