Trading Up My D.ting Skills

Sex? - Marcel Hol

Obama came to "listen and provide American leadership". Well baby, I've been listening and I will follow your lead. You say regulation of hedge funds? I say regulation of hedge funds managers. Po-tay-to, pot-ah-to, as they say.

Next step in trading up my dating skills. I made the same mistakes we all did and now, after getting smashed, I'm getting smarter.

Implementing the overhaul in my dating regulations.

Would you buy/invest your time with a stock on which you didn't have at least one rating agency opinion?

I'm not the biggest supporter of rating agencies. I mean, they are never really impartial, and if you listen to them as if they were, don't be surprised if you find yourself intoxicated with assets of dubious worth.

Of course your aunt is desperate to be in a wedding, but did you really think that tall, Swiss tycoon of a date was not going to end up an cheap, old dandruffy date?

But let's not knock them too hard. We need to up the regulation and information, not do away with it. Some due diligence. I mean, how much do you really know about the people you date? That they look hot and pay for drinks? That they go to your gym? Come on. That's the 'all that glistens' derivative approach that got us into this mess. Now, we're going for the commodity.

Step 1: Trade with the times. Flight to safety.

Gold. Government bonds and the possible corporate ones too. Diversifying? Not really. Out with the thrilling threesomes and tattooed rock stars. Young studs with six-packs and all the blessings of youth in a young man? Off the menu. No volatility. No risk. Dentists, accountants, and a possible lawyer. Certainly no traders.

Step 2: Call the bottom

And I am totally going in for the stop-order. I don't expect the positions I get into to fly the second I get into them. And sitting in my chair I don't expect to be swept off my feet by the second drink. (Though wouldn't it be nice.)

But I feel the life oozing out of me and I force a chuckle at a silly, smutty anecdote - poof. That's it. Date over. I'm out of the game: I will get up. I will thank you in two sentences, turn around and deposit what is left of my valuable evening in bed indulging myself in a book that makes me tingle. Intellectually, of course.

So I'm going to start dating G20 style: more transparency and regulation.

You go to my church? My mother's best friend changed your diapers? OK. We can get started. More regulation, less risk, lower margins, flatter VIX.

This girl is trading the times.

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