CEOs are ruining trading and the fucking HOLIDAY SEASON! Oil prices are TUMBLING DOWN like a fucking BLIND ROOFER and the OPECKERS are flexing their LEFT HANDS and shitting on global oil prices and GODDAMIT I have to get these Christmas cards sent out to a BUNCH of FUCKHEADS who I've been feeding chicken fried steak to for over 40 years and being their FUCKING EXCUSE if/when their spouse should call and say "Was (redacted) out hunting geese with you last weekend?" when he was really up BUMPING UGLIES all weekend with that scheduler from #XYZ Energy. So I came up to the high rise office on FUCKING SATURDAY and some of our YOUNG DUMBASS oil traders were here and Oh HOLY FUCK they are wearing British soccer jerseys and flat brimmed ball caps and GODDAM DAYGLO ORANGE tennis shoes on their LITTLE HAIRY LEGGED WHITE FEET and talking about those NUMBNUTS at Dynamic OIL Trading in Singapore while scrolling on their SMARTASS PHONES and telling each other about HOT RUSSIAN BABES on the right side of the LinkedIn page of some of those SINGAPORE SHITHEADS who don't know that RISK MANAGEMENT and YOUTH don't work well together just like using HAND-SANITIZER as LUBE during ROMANTIC MOMENTS in the company broom closet and don't ask me how I know that. But these Xmas Cards are a PAIN IN THE ASS because none of the FUCKING RECIPIENTS will look at them without mentally debating whether or not WE SCREWED THEM ON THE LAST TRADE. You see, back in the 80s when we were groovin to "Love Snatch" by the B-52s up at Winston's on North Belt, Christmas MEANT SOMETHING because EVERYONE MADE MONEY. We didn't have all these YOUNG NERVOUS, HIGH IQ FUCKBIRDS running around the office talking about their "SKEDASTIC FUCKING PRICE LATENCY". In the 80s when we were groovin to oldies like the Beatles' "I Wanna Hold Your Gland", the only time you heard the work "skedastic" was when you were complimenting an Odessa TX oil producer's ability to skeedaddle out the the bathroom window of a truckstop waitress' apartment when her husband came home unexpectedly as in, "Claytie has some fine skedastic skills when you got to get movin!" And that reminds me that all you fatass fartnocking SHITBIRD PETROLEUM ENGINEERS with your goddam Kenny Rogers goatees and your $60,000 Ford Running W pickups and your bump gard grills and your fucking "hole packing analysis" and your fucking "ball drop sleeve" comments seem to be losing some weight lately after you tried to talk the CEO into exiting those $90 oil hedges because China would send oil prices to $175, right? Thank God our mullet CEO didn't listen to you! Because our CEO knows that "hole packing" and "ball drop sleeves" are what petroleum engineers show off at the Mirage Cabaret in dark light and to the tune of "Her Strut". Engineers also designed built the DC-10, the Fort Pinto and the Titanic so they should be glad we don't let them trade oil or determine credit. Xmas is the time of giving and all my accounts want to know what the fuck I'll be giving them this year so we're sending out these "robo-signed" Xmas cards but for A CERTAIN ASSHOLE who trades oil here in Houston (all you fuckers know who I'm talking about), later on I'm going down to the handicapped stall in the men's room on our floor and I'm going to slather a little OLD SPICE on MY NUTS and then I'm going to rub my nuts on the card I'm sending to him. Merry Xmas! My little Aggie intern, Earline, came up to me a while ago and asked, "Geezer…do you why electricity traders are like Christmas trees?"

Fucking electricity traders! They are the Kardashians of the energy trading business.

I said, "No. Why are electricity traders like Christmas trees?"

Earline is going to make a good oil trader one day. She answered, "Because their balls are just for decoration!"

Fucking CEOs are goddam ruining the trading business! If they aren't turning a BLIND FUCKING EYE to the game fixing bullshit their young traders are doing with commodities of FOREIGNER'S FUCKING MONEY, they're telling us to eat fucking rope with salad dressing on it or having us do jumping jacks at these fucking Norwegian work stations here in the trading room with 73 fucking data screens on them. Now, I had a giant cyst taken off my back and I had the strip-center investing SAWBONES save that bastard in its sac and I was showing it to those FUCKHEAD NATURAL GAS traders who are in a shit-blizzard panic as their "Nattie" ROCKETS UP THEIR ASS and, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, back in the 80's when we were groovin' to "Shockin' Your Monkey" by Peter Gabriel, only pimps were described by the term "nattie", WHICH FUCKING FIGURES, so I was using my cyst to show them what salt cavern storage was like and our CEO walks by and tells me to STOP THAT SHIT and when he did all the FUCKING ELECTRICITY TRADERS, who had been sitting over there silently texting each other STUFF THAT MADE THEM GIGGLE like a group of table dancers laughing at a table full of El Paso traders, they looked up at me like cats watching a stranger walk by the front of the house where they PISS ON THE BUSHES. All these young fucking traders with their fucking heads HALF SHAVED on one side and semi-mulleted long on the other side, with their golf shirt, business casual "Uniforms" , looking like some sort of VIKING INTERIOR DESIGNER, talking their positions in FUCKING CHATROOMS and complaining that the Es Sider traders don't FACEBOOK their positions anymore unless you've been FRIENDED by them. Fucking texting!!! I asked my cute Aggie intern, Earline, how she would describe me using text messaging. She wants to be an oil trader and I get stuck with those young idiots here at the office. She told me, "Geezer....I would describe you in a text as "ABCDEFGHIJK...". I looked at her like a I'd look at an ExxonMobil trader trying not to pick up a lunch tab. I asked what those letters meant. She said they were the first letters of "Adorable, beautiful, cute, delightful, elegant, fashionable, gorgeous, and hot."

I asked her what about the "IJK"? I think she's going to make a good gas trader more than an oil trader because she said they stood for "I'm just kidding."

Hedge fund SHITBIRDS are ruining the trading vernacular again. Back in the 80s, when we were groovin to "Ass in the Pocket" by the Pretenders, you just did "a trade" .... and a "hung trade" back then was when you negotiated a deal for some table dance relief at Baby-Os with the tittie dancer with bolt ons just in from Kentucky and needing some rent money at her Greenspoint place and she was the amenable friend of the skanky waitress you were over-tipping on the company dime in order to hopefully get a clam helmet on your purple headed drill bit! I heard tell that while I was out drinking and partying at Baby-Os with the Charter and Champlin crude buyers and the PO Falco boys, their wives had a "girls night out at Winston's on North Belt. After a bunch of free liquor provided by some Aldine High School football coaches, the women began to talk about their trader husbands. One began, "My husband works for Charter and I call him the "refinery" because he has a big, hot "cat cracker". The wives giggled. "Well," said the next wife, "My husband works for PO Falco and I call him "the Barge" because he can deliver a huge load!" The wives giggled again as the Aldine football coaches listened. Finally, the last wife stated, "I call my husband "the Postman".....he can ultimately deliver but it's usually late and in the wrong box!"

So I'm in a hurry to get to the office after a few brewhahas at Kay's Lounge late last night and while I'm tying my fucking tie I notice a thick fucking single black hair growing out the top of my right ear sort of like the old Mercury dime's figure had wings growing back out of his head, don't you know, and I make a swipe at that hair with the fucking Gillette 9-blade and FUCK if I don't CUT MY FUCKING EAR a bit in a not too smart move but DON'T FUCKING COMPARE ME and my smartness to the asshole shithead fuckbirds who slithered around that TXU deal with all their FUCKING INTELLECTUAL CAPITAL on display like goddam peacocks and oh, yes, those MULLETS at Exxon were watching that TXU deal closely, like a nearsighted man at a Tomball, TX, peephole into the ladies bathroom at an optometrist's office. Now, as the XTO people kept quiet, but silently were muttering whooooweeedoggies like that great oilman Jed Clampitt used to say when Ellie Mae came in from a late date with hickeys on her neck and explaining that she walked in front of a gas trader at a driving range by the name of Peter Trax. And HEY!! Why are all you gas trading shitbirds whining about the price of gas in a cold winter? If gas companies hired experienced people to trade that vaporous shit, they'd know what a real winter could be but instead they hire all these DESIGNER STUBBLED, tribal-tattooed, Taper-fade haircutted, Axe-wearing, G-Shock watch-wristed, square-toe shoe wearing, DUCKFACE making, nude selfie picture taking, chatroom conspiring FUCKHEADS in horizontal striped, business casual golfshirts who talk about their FUCKING VaR and risk buckets and co-locational Rho indicative, enhanced coupled strangle second derivatives against the "Widowmaker" who'll hang up the landline in front of their 20 fucking stacked data screens at their workstation and tell you it was another "headhunter" who won't leave them alone. Back in the 80s, when we were groovin to Eddie Rabbits' "Driving My Wife Away", you had to have a gray whisker or two before you made a big fucking bet with the company's money that there might not be a FUCKING WINTER even though you might tell your boss that there had to be a winter because your titty-dancer girlfriend at Baby-O's in Houston would report to you that she "got 8 inches" on a night it didn't snow. I mentioned that to our CEO in the trading room this morning and next thing you know, that old bulbous nose veined wildcatter is telling me that his new trophy wife woke him up with a blow job that very morning. He says, "She told me to wake my ass up and blow the leaves off the circular drive."

I see that some financial house CEOs are telling their dumbass traders not to "bullshit" people while, at the same time, ruining the fucking trading business as we used to know it. You know, like good well run trading was back in the '80s when real men traded oil and Anadarko's president was regularly holding court and farting in a seat at Winston's up on North Belt while we all were groovin to "Back in the Gang Bang" by the Pretenders or maybe "Twat in the City" by Billy Idol. Nowadays, all you young trading shitbirds with your fucking TAPER FADE FAUXHAWKS and your fucking COMPASS POINT TATTOOS sit around quietly sending CONSPIRITORIAL IMs or EMAILS where you call yourselves CROOKS or worse, "PLAYERS", and define your goddam criminal intent as though NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW because you think you're all in a FRATERNITY of FUCKSTICKS who'll never rat each other out in such MONUMENTAL DUMBASSTIC WAYS. Could you even imagine OSCAR WYATT or Marc Rich ever showing up at the office on a weekend wearing GRAY PLAID FUCKING CARGO SHORTS with an exposed CHINESE LETTER TATTOO on their calf and FLIP-FLOPS along with wearing a white t-shirt stating "TRADE TO LIVE, LIVE TO TRADE" on it and wearing one of those GODAWFUL FUCKING FLAT BRIMMED BALL CAPS turned 18 degrees to the FUCKING LEFT? And you young dumbasses got caught in that FUCKING TWEETED OIL FIASCO didn't you, you hashtag dumbass, hashtag fuckstic, hashtag shitbirds. Goddammit, back in the 80s when we were groovin to "Her Taint of Love" by Soft Cell, "hashtag" was a game you played in the nude with a big titted EZ Serve secretary with the help of smokey Moroccan influences! And, motherfuckers, you didn't send her a pic of your pecker in those days; you fucking showed it to her in the backseat of the company car behind a strip center on Airline Road. Fuckers. Assholes. Our company CEO and I were coming back from the CEDAR LOUNGE the other morning at 11:00 am and our CEO was driving and swerved to miss a cat in the road and HPD pulled him over and the officer said, "You been drinkin' sir?" and I chimed in, "Hell no. You don't see a fat girl in the front seat do you?"

Fucking CEOs and CFOs are ruining the goddam trading industry with all the DUMBASS 'SMART' PEOPLE they can hire. When I was waiting in line at Taco Cabana this morning for some breakfast burritos to bring to the oil desk and share with my LITTLE AGGIE INTERN, I was scratching up under my short sleeve golf shirt THAT EVERYONE IN THE FUCKING ENERGY BUSINESS HAS TO WEAR THESE FUCKING DAYS, and I discovered my underarm hair was about 5 inches long and how did that shit happen?? You could braid it if you had to! And...how did this shit happen? I've been reading about the Barclays electricity bullshit this morning and the FERC documents are pretty funny. Once again, the smartest people that CEOs, CFOs and whatever you call the top brass of HR could find available for the jobs mentioned in the FERC filing were allegedly talking their conspiratorial bullshit in emails and IMs. One Barclays guy disputed his own smartness in a response to FERC! And these people probably passed some 80 question fucking psychodumbastic test to see how smart they were compared to generally educated people or OLD, EXPERIENCED FUCKERS looking for energy trading work. Then I read in the FERC filing that someone at Barclays debated their influence in electricity markets in a rag known as "THE FRIDAY BURRITO". (I am not shitting you a pound!) HAVE YOU ELECTRICITY TRADING BASTARDS LOST YOUR FUCKING MINDS?? Didn't you PUD PULLING POWER PRICKS learn anything from ENRON's troubles IN THEIR OUEVRE?? It seems like the entire trading industry is beset by GIGANTIC C-suite NUMBNUTS WHO DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO HISTORY. And as for you young traders and traderettes out there...Did all the AXE products you young shitbirds smear on your bodies and hair chemically affect your ability to think or would PTJ think you became pregnant? Back in the 80s, when REAL MEN traded energy, when we were groovin' to "Careless Blister" by Wham! or maybe "Hummer and 69" by Bryan Adams, we avoided all that legal bullshit trouble by SPENDING TIME HAVING MORE FUCKING FUN on the company dime!! You know what's wrong with you power trading fucksticks? You don't have a DISPATCH STACK FOR FUN!!! You don't play golf or go to tittie bars. You don't go to Pizzitola's or Dirty's to eat lunch. You don't drink beer at Kay's lounge! You sit their working your FUCKIN EXCEL spreadsheets and eating your fucking Cheetos and sighing heavily from time to time when you can't FUCK A COUNTERPARTY and guzzling your FUCKING MOUNTAIN DEW and even the mullets on the natural gas desk shake their PINHEADS at your "Dagwood and Dithers" dustclouds. Thank God Marc went to his ETERNAL REWARD not having to read about that Barclays/FERC dumbassery! Now, the young lady who is my LITTLE AGGIE INTERN told me that one of our allegedly "tested-smart" fucking electricity traders was hitting on her the other day and he told her that he had just received a new T-shirt from his alma mater and he wanted to be careful washing it for the first time and he asked her what wash settings he should use. My little Aggie replied, "Well, it will be on the T-shirt. What does it say?"

The power trader replied, "Harvard".

Paul Tudor Jones saying women become dumbass traders after having a baby or getting a divorce is like a Platt's rep saying your dispute of one of their reported energy prices is because "you're just on the wrong side of the price..." It as if a woman's skills are based on being on the *wrong side* of the physical "plumbing" they tote around. (Maybe PTJ has been getting advice on out of context commenting from Sergio Garcia?) It also assumes a gigantic dumbass sense of unassailable dipshit male superiority that is easily shaken as facts come to light. Pregnant or nursing = dumbass? I guess Tom Kivisto got pregnant and that in turn caused SemGroup's gigantic financial fart. Brian Hunter must have been nursing when he was trading the March/April Widowmaker for Amaranth. In 2001/2002 it seems like every male natural gas trader/electricity trader for pipeline/marketer/traders in the US was pregnant or attempting to get pregnant if you follow PTJ's logic. (I apologize for the visual of that.) In 2007 and 2008 all you young male FINANCIAL MATH FUCKS must have been calculating massive derivative dumbassery while getting in vitro pregnancy procedures as well as physically trying to get pregnant!! Has that Kwecko feller had his baby yet?? Buffett has more money than PTJ and me and that old hog-oiling Nebraskan agree that women are the key to future trading prosperity. In the oil business I don't see women traders and marketers doing anything but good, clean, low risk business growth. In my many years in this biz, I have never seen a female trader barfing on a refiner rep during hour 6 of a pole dance fest in a West Houston tittie bar. I've never seen a female trader banging a hooker in a Longview, TX, motel room while a coterie of pipeline employees cast comments and critiques from outside. WOMEN DIDN'T INVENT THAT FUCKIN VaR BULLSHIT! I've never seen a picture of a female crude buyer for a major oil company with a Mexican whore sticking her nipple in her ear like I saw in 1983. Back in the 80's, when we were groovin' to Bonnie Tyler's "It's a Hard Ache..." women, as now, did great work in the oil and gas business and no one took them seriously. It's just that the sexual, peripheral side of the industry---"business entertainment"---was, and still is to some degree, a powerful culture promoted by dumbass men and it blocks female advancement. Goldman had a problem with that in their LATAM group quite a few years ago if I recall correctly. A lawsuit was involved. Now, my new Aggie summer intern (WHO IS A WOMAN engineer) overheard me grumbling about this PTJ, male/female/ culture bullshit. She knows your Geezer have a daughter and a grand daughter and one day they may both need to take care of your Geezer. She tried to cheer me up. She asked, "Geezer, do you know the difference between Paul Tudor Jones and a condom?" Stunned, I said, "No." My little Aggie intern, who is showing signs of promise said, "Condoms have changed. They're no longer thick and insensitive."

I was enjoying a quiet morning on the desk here plucking a few white whiskers out of my chin that I missed while driving and shaving my fucking face on the way into downtown Houston this morning. I was plucking those white chin whiskers and sticking them together on the back of an old Amoco business card (sorry, Dave!) trying to make a small gray replica of BP's 50,000 ton, world's largest semi-submersible "Thunder Horse" with those whiskers and I began to think: Fucking energy company CEOs and CFOs demand so much fucking immediate cash from their young dumbass trading and marketing employees that energy price scandals pop up from time to time. And lets not forget all the industry's engineering departments' intellectual capital that allows for deepwater drill pipe to snap off without a backup system highlighted by the legend of drilling through a Louisiana lake into a salt mine and flooding it . And HEY!! You fuckers in HR, when not being "entertained" by those dipshit, LinkedIn addicted headhunters, you hired all the assholes I mentioned and put them on the payroll so you're not off the fucking hook either. You and those goddam shit-brained fucking dumbass isocentric IQ tests you started using to hire only SMART fuckers or so you say. Not everyone in the oil and gas business needs to be as smart as a WALL STREET INVESTMENT BANK PRICK!! I bet if you check the ages of the oil company mullets in Europe involved in the BP/Shell/Statoil oil price dumbassery you'll probably find out on the klepto-kurtosis part of the fucking "age/experience" curve that you fucking MATH & STATISTIC TRAINED "ORIGINATION" PRICKS shoved up everyone's ass over the last 3 decades you'll find a youthful batch of dumbass fucksticks involved. Now, back in the 80's, when we were groovin' to Donna Summer's "Hot Muff", JAMMING THE PHYSICAL was what you limply attempted and failed to do with a willing tittie-bar dancer whom you'd tipped $300 in the back of the parking lot of Rick's Cabaret after an exhausting 9 hours of entertaining Charter's crude oil purchasing team ...and that phrase didn't have a goddam thing to do with manipulating oil and gas prices like it does these days with all you oil trading, personal legend-seeking fucktoids. And I'm wondering: If Shell merged with Vitol, would they call it Shit-ol?? What has the fucking energy biz come to when a name like Exelon refers to an energy company as well as a prescribed medicine for memory loss?? Why do energy companies forget risk management after the WHOLE FUCKING INDUSTRY was fucked over by Enron et al? And you fuckers at Platt's need to start hiring some price takers who have BEEN IN THE FUCKING ENERGY TRADING BUSINESS. Like our CEO says all the time, "YOU CAN'T SHIT A SHITTER". I just looked at that damn LinkedIn for Platts editors and didn't see any former energy traders on staff. Hell, one went to a college named after some toulene trader's favorite cheap wine, for fucks sake. Go figure - and I that's not directed at you fucking quants. So my fucking MIT trainee is about to leave me and I am getting ANOTHER FUCKING AGGIE intern this summer!! When our HR lady came by to tell Mr. MIT he was being moved to our sulpher trading group for training he made a face she picked up on and said to Mr. MIT, "Now come on...I was told as a child that if I made an ugly face it might just stay that way forever...." and Mr. MIT, a soon to be great oil trader replied, "Well, ma'am, you can't say you weren't warned!"

CEOs and other top financial industry mullets who brag about 30 year old scores on the fucking SAT tests are ruining the goddam trading industry! STOP AND THINK A BIT: All the best fucking thinking many of you top WALL STREET PRICKS could do eventually RUINED THE FUCKING TRADING BUSINESS as evidenced by all the fuckstick smarmy Dodd-Frank consultants walking around trading rooms today with their SHIT EATING GRINS plastered on their faces because they'll have a JOB FOR LIFE thanks to all you high IQ dumbasses who convinced trading institutions to hire you to shit the golden bed of finance and trade that it took those of us of average intelligence decades to build!! Back in the 80's when we were groovin to Robert Palmer's "Gonna Have To Face It -- I'm A Dick To Love", we avoided you smart motherfuckers like the plague because if we didn't understand the word "temporal" or "tenor" in your fucking presentation, you'd get all pissy and whiny about why we had the jobs we did. And you'd have to bring a "beard", usually some coked-up, bribe paying shithead broker to "translate" all your industry ruining verbage into plain old golf playing, waitress fucking English!! Asswipes! My fucking employer has a "Career Path" program and some dumbass up in the fart smelling C-suite has assigned som MIT fucker to learn the oil trading business for a while at the knee of your Geezer. He was in medical school but dropped out to be in the energy business it seems. I asked him what brand of fucking leech/blood draining he was studying at the time of dropping out of med school. He was in urology rotation when he left the program. I asked him why he thought that might help him in the energy business. "Well", he started," I think I'll fit in..I met a girl at Kay's Lounge the other night and told her my story and one thing led to another and we were soon back at my apartment. We got naked and she said, "Since you were in urology, could you look at a little scratch I have 'down there"?" She pointed to her groin. So I told her sure...just do a headstand facing the floor to ceiling mirror on my closet sliding door and I'll take a look. So I bent down very close to take a look and said, 'It's nothing...don't worry about it." She asked, why did you place your chin right in my groin when you were checking it?"

I waited for the MIT guy to reply. And now I know why he might make a good energy trading guy. He said his answer to her was...."I wanted to see what I'd look like with a beard...."

Fucking energy company CEOS don't know a fucking thing about markets or risk in general. If I was the CEO for a fucking day here's what I'd do by example to help my CEO brethren around the energy and financial trading world: I'd fire every fucking investment banker we have and get 2 new ones. You don't need smoke up your old ass from bankers to tell you how long your dick "could get to be" if you keep "leveraging" it. The next thing I'd do is make any painty-waisted pitchbook pud-pulling peddlers work their way through the company's physical trading and marketing personnel before they get to me. I'd ban any financial house assholes from dealing with the company CFO because, most likely, our CFO person don't know shit about the risk in energy commodities because they ain't never had to trade the fucking shit. Go ask your fucking CFO what an "oil tank thief" is and he/she will probably have "Enron" as the first word out of their mouth and be wrong of course. And don't use JP Morgan as a reference on risk to me. Then I'd call in all our accounting and trading/marketing personnel and I'd say, "See these alligator clips attached to this here "deep cycle" trolling motor battery?? If you ever see me trading my own commodity account or dealing in energy commodities on the side you are hereby ordered with the right and obligation to this new demand that you grab me, strip me naked and attach one alligator clip to one of my manscaped nipples and the other to one of my hairy testicles and don't release them without having removed me the trading vehicles I stupidly got involved with with company money... or my ball starts to emit smoke, whichever comes first!! Fuckers!!
Back in the 80s when we were grooving to "We Built This Tittie" by Jefferson Starplane, CEOs were just plain old dumbasses who we'd hire from the majors and they'd sit in their fucking office at lunch and eat soup and make benign decisions for the $5 million a year we paid them thinking we'd get a benefit out of them. Bastards!! Dipshits! Or they'd be like that asshole in the Carolinas who'd hire consultants to keep them out of bankruptcy and then fire them all with no bonus after the company was saved! The common fucking thing back then though is that those CEOs, dumbasses that they were, didn't get involved with all the FINANCIAL ASSHOLES who took advantage of their dumbassery and sold them on the fucking GODLIKE qualities of a CFO, usually their buddy, who understood "structured fucking finance". Thus, the end of COMMON FUCKING SENSE began in the energy and financial world and advanced degrees cancerously ate at at the trading world and now Dodd Frank is up all of our asses as a fucking result of all that intellectual capital. RATFUCKERS!!! I'm known around the trading floor as a blunt fucker and people who took out huge dumbass college loans to become an MBA/CFO/CEO will challenge your Geezer from time to time about the greatness of derivatives and personal vision and I tell them that if I want to listen to an asshole I'll just sit here and fart!!!