I Totally Called Yesterday's Surge In Tech Stocks!

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I Totally Called Yesterday's Surge In Tech Stocks!

You all think you're hot shit because you guessed that the dollar would continue to slide against the euro, but answer me this: Who totally called yesterday's 0.4 percent surge in technology stock valuations, in spite of their inflated P/E ratio? Who defied conventional wisdom and foresaw the late-afternoon rally after a morning of relatively tepid technology trading? Who is the fucking man? If you said "Geoffrey Fox," you are correct.

It was yours truly, the NASDAQ maverick, the guru of guidance, the man who redefined outperform and reinvented rebound. Boo-ya!

Two days ago, I had a feeling in my gut. I said to myself, "Geoffrey, the technology sector will surge tomorrow. Contrary to many market indicators, the technology sector, buoyed by surprisingly strong Q1 profit reports from NVDA and SNDK, will show a distinct 0.4 to 0.8 percent surge tomorrow." So what did I do? I went with my gut. And, as is often the case, my gut was right. Thanks for the check, NASDAQ. I'll deposit that into the personal checking account of one Geoffrey Fucking Fox.

Do you hear the footsteps? Can you feel the hot breath on the back of your neck? Taste my exhaust, motherfucker. You've been Foxed!

I ca-zalled that tech-sector shit. While you were researching increased jobless claims and continuing market instability based on persistent consumer worries about U.S. food and drug safety, I was calling shit. Hello? Hello!

You chumps put the "anal" back in analyst. Me, I put the "back" back in "back the fuck up, and watch a master trader do his work." Pop quiz: What percent change have we seen in the contract manufacturers' technology sub-sector in Q1 to date? Do the year-over-year profit numbers from the wireless sub-sector add up to renewed industry growth? Do names like XM Radio, Nortel, and Flamel Technologies mean anything to you? Don't answer. Here's $5. Go get me a latté.

While you were crying to Mommy Solomon Brothers, I spotted new top performers with positive cash flow, rapid growth, and increased product orders. I picked them out of the crowded sector, hooked in, swallowed their forecasts, and rode them as they trended ever upwards, tenth-of-a-percent after tenth-of-a-percent. And, when it was time to sell: Blaow! Next thing anybody knew, I was whistling all the way to the bank.

That's just how we roll around here. Or at least how I roll, sucker.

I called that tech-stock surge, just like I called that tech-stock stumble last Friday. Sure, the sector's volatile. But if you know how to ride her, you can fly like the wind. To truly know the NASDAQ, you have to love her curves, her dips, her shocking upturns, her terrifying downward spirals. You've gotta take her and love her, really make her your own, until you pull back suddenly and she screams out, begging for more and better trading. Then, when the NASDAQ is covered in sweat, back arched, moaning—that's when you start to slowly buy and sell, picking up leaders and casting off laggards. You outperform her upgraded valuations. You ride her hard until you both crescendo together.

Or you get the hell out of this business and let the big boys trade. If you're not balls-deep into the stock exchange, there's no reason to even play the game.

The stock market is a feeling. It's a state of mind. If I even have to explain why, after several days of stock devaluation and bearish news from market leaders like Intel and Cisco, there would be a significant Tuesday-afternoon rally pushing many mid-level properties to 52-week highs—well, you're in the wrong fucking business. Sorry. Take the elevator down 20 flights, get in your car, and drive to the mall, because I hear there's an opening at Radio Shack.

All you need to know is this: I am the fucking master of calling shit. The Wall Street warrior. The world heavyweight champion of high-volume, high-risk, high-yield trading. I called that surge, because I am the masta of calling tech stocks! All hail Geoffrey!

You think I've got some trick up my sleeve, don't you? You think I'm just too good to be true. Maybe I've got some sort of Magic 8-Ball that tells me exactly which sectors are going to surge on which days. Maybe some fantastical stock-market fairy walked into my office and told me that tech was about to explode by 0.4 percent. Maybe I can see the future, and the present, and the past, through all eternity.

Or maybe I'm just good at predicting the market fluctuations—in-your-face, out-of-your-league, all-over-your-ass good.


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