The Secret Life of a Retail Trading Legend.

I’m very funny. Well, maybe not. But I figure I’ve been letting my readers down by never injecting some satire into my blogging, instead stick to boring, useless topics like delta hedging or liquidations or things that make money. So let’s try something different.

Many know me as a phenomenal, legendary trader. I am also incredibly humble too, as many of you kindly note to me on Twitter. Last year alone I cleared more in trading profit than the GDP of several small countries. I was able to buy Burkina Faso from the profits I cleaned up on Dogecoin.

As I mentioned before, you should always assume everyone active on Twitter is a fantastic, excellent trader. This is a well known phenomenon where the best people in the market will always tell you how they’re the best, because they’ve made so much money that they don’t actually need to look at the market anymore. Hence they will instead tell you how good they are at trading and what you should do, like me. Because they’re already done. It’s like the people who write gameplay manuals or people who are single but somehow do relationship counseling.

As a public service, I am writing this special blog post in order to share the hard earned wisdom I’ve gleaned from a year of trading single lots on TD Ameritrade. I’m fairly sure this qualifies me to give advice to registered investment advisors. Despite making money on literally every trade, I’ve read in books about people losing money on trading and that sucks. Or they suck. The market is easily predictable literally 100% of the time, and if you lose money you should always feel bad. I know I always do. Or I would if I ever actually lost money.

Anyway, so I was driving down to Big Podcast headquarters in my lambo while trading SPY and I thought to myself, “Lily, you’re extremely beautiful and humble and intelligent, but other people aren’t. How can you best help them?” I’ve been doing a lot of philanthropy on Twitter handing out free alpha to people as a public service, but I felt I really needed to focus on my long form posts on how to trade SPY effectively for the simpletons. I decided texting and driving wasn’t a good idea in case I crash into a poor person and have to talk to them, so I decided instead to call my friend Alex, who got rich trading bodily orifice coins and diversifying into Gamestop.

“Alex, I know you recommended I get into ShitCumAss coins as a value investor, but what do you think other people who are less financially savvy than you should do in this difficult market?” I talk into my headset, running over a poor person. I feel a slight bump as the lambo glides over their now lifeless body, and showing some empathy, throw a few fifty dollar bills next to them. By the time they land, I think to myself, they will be worthless anyway thanks to the Fed’s continued devaluation of money. I would’ve tossed him a few sats instead, but it was hard to ask him what his wallet address was since he was dead.

He takes a second to reply. On my left, I see the tell-tale signs of rampant inflation. I see a house, stripped to its nails, two guys in suits and muttering they work at Goldman stripping down the lumber to sell on the black market. I finally pull up to Chipotle and notice all the workers are gone, and I have to make my own burrito. They said it is because all the workers quit to stay at home on unemployment, ungrateful sods. If I wanted to pay a living wage to them, I would’ve tipped in the first place.

“Well, Lily” he replies, chugging down ten cold brews, “my best recommendation for people is to feel the market”.

I pause when he says that. Of course. How could I have been so blind? I rapidly tweet out more alpha to my followers. I only get 40 likes. I then tweet a meme about the market crashing. I get 400 likes. I feel at ease, since Biden finally announced we could exchange internet clout for money thanks to the blockchain. My life has been validated.

It’s been 15 minutes since I last checked the market. As a legendary retail investor, I work really hard to pay attention to every single tick in case the market goes slightly in the wrong direction. I keep my stops tight and my rectum tighter. I fire off another 100 lots of mini futures contracts. SPY downticks. I blow my account up.

I tweet optimistic and funny things to my followers. The market went down 1% today. I know they are all homeless and cannot use Twitter anymore. I still get 400 likes.

Tomorrow will be a better day I say to myself. Futures drop 50 points overnight. I am hedged better than a FinTwit guru in a face-ripping rally. I cry myself to sleep tonight.