I think it may have been around 2005 I signed up for tue ultimate trading course by Theresa Lo. An original idea - I have yet to see it elsewhere - was the 5' pause. The idea was to catch a fast moving stock and play the break of a 5' bar as the trend continued. The play fits my personality, so I have been attempting to bring it out of retirement. Look nack through previous posts where I pointed out a momo play (news reversal or trend continuation) for charts where tue setup not only presented itself, but also scored. The play did not setup this morning (hint: expansion bars followed by a narrow range bar near the top of the candle). This is an attempt to keep a recors of every day that potentially could have realized the setup. (Time of day is a factor when the market gaps out of congestion or makes new highs.) At the time I think I was using the trade ideas scanner looking for runners. That works for some people but not me. I still like the play and want to see if I can use it when gaming the market as a whole.
The elbow tap: Here I am sitting in a 12 step meeting knowing I don't belong. But there she was, the Golden Goddess. I had noticed her once or twice. How could I not? She wasn't dressed like anyone else. Her style was that of the type of woman you see downtown. The type of woman who might help you wreck your car as your focus is no longer on the kids, the wife or even something as mundane as driving. I have always been a sucker for a pretty face, but when it comes to women, I am not a sucker. Okay, I will suck the juices from her nether regions, but I know the game. Confidence. Eye contact. A friendly, albeit mischevious, smile. And the elbow tap. As soon as the bell rang and I was finally out of class I made my way to the other side of an otherwise dreary room. Jodie had a "B" cup, but I would give her a B+. An "A" if you are like me and grade up on the curve of personality. Well, that's not true, but you certainly get extra credit. Jodie had personality. When she talked, the audience would laugh, sometines cry and always come away with some deep shit that made you think. I found myself attempting to detangle from some sad sack talking about what, I cannot say. My mind was on the Golden One. I tapped that dope on the shoulder with a heavy handed slap telling him it would be okay. I certainly wasnt trying to be anyones sponsor. I had other priorities. We couldn't have talked more than a minute. . Fuck! Three studs are not only talking to her, but she is laughing. That's always a good sign, unless you are on the outside looking in. I am going in for the kill! How? The elbiow tap!! Without even so much of as a "Pardon me" I reached in, behind the backs of the three soon to be sad sacks, tapped her from the under side of her elbow, confidentally looked her in the eye with a glimmer in my own and proclaimed, "I just wanted to say Hi. You got a minute?" She would then push her way past the crumbling egos of the three players, saddle up next to me, loop her arm through mine and we walked away as if we had known each other forever. Who knows? Maybe we have. Soul mates? Maybe, if you believe in such things. I have had my share of soul mates. But I knew the trick. It was something I learned knocking on doors with Nick. Partnering with Nick was my first legittimate shot at making six figures. We were partners, but I loved weed more than making money. Nick had a family to get back to and I had a family I was trying to get away from. Even though we were late arrivers to the storms in Denver there was plenty of work to be had. And A Denver paid. Unlike Fafco, in FL, where we first met. Nick was a superstar who looked like a slickster. Pencil then mustache. Shark skin suit - he loved the thrift stores. Jet black hair. New York attitude. Nick was the only sales person I have ever personally witnessed stick his foot in a door to keep someone from shutting it. Granted, the homeowner still shut the door, but that - to me - is borderline sociopathy. The "I don't give a fuck attitude" that can only be produced by childhood trauma. That's why we were partners. I could talk him off the ledge. I calmed him. The yin to his yang. However, Nick knew some tricks. Nick had the tenacity of the sales guy who walked away with a signed contract from Jesse Livermore. Can you imagine what that contract would be worth today? I can only say, don't answer your door if Nick is outside (Part one) ... stay tuned.
Post an audited record of your real trading activity, not the ponzi scheme you have suckered your clients with! If you have clients, Mr. wannabe.
800 million copies sold? Where do I sign up? Until then I will keep working on my Super Duper trading system. That and a little imaginative copyrighting. Sign up suckers like @Euler09
Part 2, Fuck. I just walked off another job. Something about me must be wired different from others. Maybe it was because I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. The only place in America where they give the working poor free health care and free housing. In fact, if you choose to release yourself from the comforting suckle of the Air Force teet, they even give you an allowance. My screen name is Johnny Rock, but it could have just as easily been military brat. Womanizer. Addict. Alcoholic. They have groups for everyone that defines them, but I am just a Patriot, fighting the good fight. Look. I told you I was a brat, but guess what, you learn something growing up on a military base. You do things kids do, but nobody snitches. On my way to egg cars with Trey, his Dad was an officer, we had to stand for the national anthem. It played on loud speakers and everyone stood still, military or not, if you were outside. For whatever reason, I decided I wanted to egg a car up close and personal. Splat. Chase ensues. I see a Father outside in a functional carport. Attached to those carports, I see a familiar setup, a laundry room attached to the far side opposite the side door. Energy efficient design for the panhandle if Fl. More importantly, it was safe. Provided nobody snitches. Nobody snitched. Or when my parents were gone and I would lobb an egg across the street into Tina's front yard, preferably in the garden. I still love eggs. Dick lived across the street and I pulled my own accidental wardrobe malfunction on his daughter Tina. 16, C cup. Try not to look. Feel bad that I even want to look. It is what it is. I never had a daughter. But I did have a Dad. For someone who grew up poor, I gained a fondness for the nicer things in life. I gained a fondness for people who don't snitch. On the AFB, people realized the difference. Good citizen. Snitch. "Johnny, we know its you who egged our house." Simple statement. At my Dad's rank at the time, living off base was out of the question. Honorable men gave me a warning. I once heard of a kid who had to watch movies at the fire department for setting someone's garage on fire. A good citizen reported him. There were children in that house when he did it. That kid is probably in the CIA. Good thing he didn't wet the bed. However, you learn pageantry on a military base. There is a certain formality that is evident in the way you express yourself. Eye contact. Direct questions requiring direct answers. Kids fight. We move around a lot. You fight. But mainly, you get yo live the American Dream with no responsibilites. What a life! Wheras a normal person would take an opportunity to change direction as just that and go back to school, I decided to put all my chips on me. The toughest question on a job application has always been have you ever been fired from a job. Tue shorter question would be what job haven't I been fired from? That's right. Only the ones I quit. When you move off the base you learn another important lesson. People off the base snitch. You are confident enough to go it alone. Ideas are only brilliant when they work. Failure falls on your shoulders. But the most important thing you learn on an Air Force base is results. A quiet confidence if you are that type. A braggadocious ribbing for the others. Actually, there I go again stretching the truth. The most important lesson I learned is how to knock on a door. Guess who lives in Colorado Springs? Retired military. Many of whom work for USAA. My people. I am never more comfortable than when I am talking to a retired dude from the Air Force. His family. Nick got something out of the deal too. A fearless door knocker who could get people to sign the piece of paper. Minimal effort. I played the part. Shaved head. Neck wallet. Clipboard. Take precipitous notes. Ask questions. Honest to a fault. When they asked if we used Mexicans, I always said yes. Those who ask, say no. Gotta love the melting pot. Black. White. Asian. Puerto Rican. French (my neighbors wife who spoke no English). DD's like those and you can get by without A's. Sofia Loren like facial structure. Who knows, she might have been Italian. He kept her in the house. Neighbors. Friends. Family. A culture for breeding sociopaths. That's what it is. The type of pathology that drives one to seek areas of glory. Womanizing. Fighting. Drinking. A recipe for the type of con man who is used to building trust. Sales schools teach rapport. Magicians produce illusion. Rapport my ass. You will get invited to family functions when you are part of the club. Les invited me to his hunting cabin. Ghillie would have me over to watch new age films, smoke bowls and show me her crafts. Gotta love Colorado! I wannabe doing any of the above instead of working. A college education just takes too much damn work! Tricks are not just for kids. Just make sure you are not the trick. That is why I loved the elbow tap. Simple. Effective. Repeatable. Everything you, ahem, I, want in a trading system. Everything I want in life! The relationships I built with people were real. That was never work. But Nick was from New York. That was a whole other level. One cannot describe, except for Nick's results, a 100% conversion ratio. 12 signatures in one day! But. There are a lot of New Yorkers in Tampa. "What makes you think you can sell?" "I know how to talk to girls." Remember, I went to Sociopathy U. Simplicity? "My name is Johnny Rock with A Denver Roofing. Has anyone had a chance to look at your roof yet?" But Nick was from New York. He had a lot to overcome in the mid west. Even still, the only one better was Troy. [If you read this far you are witnessing the journal version of a tribute to Bob Lassiter]. @tampa had the ability to engage enough of the city to have his own jet. A wise person told me that if I could learn to monetize what I am trying to do, I would be golden. Whatever it is, I learned from Bob. Give people the payoff, but make them suffer. Make them crave you. Even though they hate you. And for those that love you, give them a payoff. For the rest, fuck em. THE ELBOW tap. The key to success is following a successful model: education, team sports and hustlers. "I don't think I am interested." He has the look of the jolly green farmer if you took away his greens. Nick taps his elbow from the underneath side, gently, briefly. Without skipping a beat the man's demeanor changed and Nick pressed forward. We left with a signature. When I asked why, Nick explained that there is something comforting about cupping your hand, touching your mark's elbow, lightly with your fingers. So brief that they hardly would notice you touched them. Before you scoff, remember, it is called a funny bone. But most of us only know it as a bundle of nerves or a bone that causes excrutiating pain when slammed against a hard object. Now, you know a Machiavelli'n Manipulation technique from a modern day magician - a former storm chaser.
The traders bar, 2019: I walk into the devils den and I see Larry, Larry Sugar, @lawrence-lugar and tried to avoid him. Larry is one of the 1%'rs that has it all. Thats why I hate the fact that he is still reading this journal being entertained by my fuck ups. One thing is certain. Larry does not respect failure. Even worse, liberals. Where I am more akin to a modern day Moses looking out of the palace walls pitying my people, Larry sees all of us as part of the Kings court. "Amuse me Johnny." For those who only know Larry from the disinformation he posts on his profile page let me clue you in. Larry graduated from Harvard Business School and interned at Goldman Sachs his senior year. He parlayed that into a fortune that would rival Jerry Jones, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys. Jerry loves Larry because they both have a similar view of the world. Although most of us wish upon Larry baldness, poverty and the Irish curse, sorry to dissapoint, Larry possesses the elusive Boston Python, much more common in Jersey and the Bronks. Larry was on the row team. In a culture that prizes show-ers over grow-ers, we all knew who to call Captain. The ladies knew it to. Whereas most of us fight over women, women fight over Larry. Larry's wife has an American Express gold car that she earned from her own publishing company. Each one of my failed manuscripts that has been submitted so far come back with a handwritten note and a little drawing he always adds of what looks like me whacking off to a plant. Larry is so far up the food chain he has coders on his team making modern day magic, but better. Larry knows how to find the rabbits. He has a dedicated team of traders on his desk that deal with order flow that still needs the human touch. I have heard he has almost finished his AI endeavor. Woe to us all if he succeeds. There here is, @Euler09 Just the dude I was looking for. "Johnny, I am in a jam. I am down to my last hundred grand and I never told my wife." Sure, it grows, but you always feel like you have something to prove. He had more of a Stanley Steamer, respectabble on all accounts, but his family had its roots in a fishing village. Like Larry, he would never back down from a fight. He hated the fact that Larry would call him Stanley. Stanley was a 5%-er. His father owned a commercial fishing vessel. Stanley didn't win life's powerball, but you might just say he came from a family that won the mother of all pick 6-es. "Did you ever get that system figured out?" "If I didn't I couldn't afford to hang out with the big boys, could I?" "How much?" "How much work? None. Simple system. You can follow directions can't you?" This con would normally not work on Stanley, but he was desperate. Sweat dripping off his brow. Crackling voice. Through the stress Stanley had developed a studder. Stanley never had a problem with the ladies, but from the look on his face he was about to. Stanley's eyes began to light up when I asked to see a picture of his wife. The wallpaper on his mini nasa computer had a picture of his beloved. We talked for hours. Until his phone vibrated. "Look, I gotta jet. How much does the system cost." "It pays for itself. Stay in touch." At A Denver, our hook was never the roof. We knew where the insurance company buried the money. Tricks of the trade to get $400 a square instead of $250. We didn't just abuse the mexicans. But it only works when people are desperate. Fear smells. "Can we meet this week?" "Face time me. We will do a free session of my pre-market analysis." "Simple Plays that Pay?!" "No doubt. Get back to that beauty queen of yours before she realizes you married up!" "Bet!"
The simplicity of gurus: If you are sitting anywhere near those 12 steps it us a microcosm of the bigger culture, very similar - in both the ability of the most charismatic people to rise to the top of clicks, chicks and dicks - to my experiences within the charasmatic community of churchdom. A sure sign of narcissism is that you believe you are chosen. Both spirituality and recovery programs are based on a sense of purpose. I am not here to argue that Jesus was a narcissist - but I would make the case that Paul was a sociopath - but it is clear that by the gospels own testament to truth he would fit the profile. Especially when we factor in the propensity to walk contrary to societal norms. My favorite Christmas story is the one where Jesus is so angered by the money changers and the religious hierarchy he overturned the tables and chased them with whips. The words of Jesus can inspire you like your favorite song. And when put to music they can have a transformative effect on one's being. Nations. Churches. Self help seminars. Each having the potential to change someone's world - something that movies, music, and tv all have in common. We all agree that the best authors affect people's lives. We often discount the power of music. Bash entertainment. It makes sense. For the same reason I have seen posts that deny the existence of the 10%er, the retailer that wins. The funds with staying power. However, Christmas is an entirely different game altogether. When the nations true God is mammon - I am here to get more of today's bread of life, fiat currency - would it not make more sense to bring back the commercialism of Christmas? Here is my gift to you: Python works on modules Scraping data from financial sites is something someone can learn to do, many times copied word for word - I found one for Oonda From the podcasts I have listened to many succesful algo traders are asking simple questions Wait for it? "What do you think of the market?" "Johnny, don't fight the fed." Joe told me that four years ago. Once you have the ability to scrape data Ask a question Maybe, just maybe, I want to know if Joe was right. Maybe, just maybe, it affected fiat currency too. For that there is a model. If I wanted to make it easy I would link to it. And I did. You just have to find it. The coder lays out an entire Python trading program only requiring one to understand enough code to change the necessary inputs. Once you get that far make up a fake screen name and ask the coders where you can find fed data. But after all, it is Christmas, the appropriate holiday for those of us who worship capitalism. Capitalism requires that you work. The elite have realized that royalties trump trading opportunities. Education works just the same. @comagnum made a fortune in technology. Find a way. For me, thats why I am here. Just like you. Read the journal. Not for my insight. Helpul links. But there is an equal resource. Every one who took the time to comment. Are you willing to enter the briar patch? I certainly will be revisiting every post. Bringing Christmas back.