Yes, yes… you all know what’s coming. After months of gloating and abuse chuckage, my pick in the 2018 mining stock pick challenge has tanked and I’ve been knocked off my lofty perch atop the table. Evrim -previously known as God’s Choice of Junior Explorers- is in the shit pile and down 80% on the day after releasing crap drill results. C’est la vie. My humble-pie eating note to our stock club is posted below.
A curious thing happened this morning. I woke up to see an email from CIBC saying my cheque to Evrim had been returned uncashed and then, to my great surprise, I received another alert telling me Evrim had published drill results. This can only mean one thing, I thought. They’d hit with the drilling. Life was about to becoming seriously, wonderously, nipple-ticklingly good.
I was about to unroll my full-gloss 5 by 6ft colour poster of Paddy Nichol and his management team, which I like to stroke and caress from time to time (but then I usually have to let it dry out for a while), when I noticed that the stock ticker was glowing a strange shade of colour that I don’t normally associate with Evrim. Red.
“Surely that can’t be.” Said a voice inside my head. The voice -coming from just between my eyes at the front of my head, you know the spot, where the stress knots build in times of great anguish- was still just a whisper, but 5 minutes later, when the stock halt came off at 8am and the red got bolder and the numbers got bigger, it had worked itself up to a full shrieking hellion cry of despair.
“Nooooooooooooooooo. Nooooooooooooooooo. Thrice noooooo. This can’t be…. Tell me it isn’t true Paddy. You.. you.. promised me. In my dreams every night. You came to me dressed in your leather fireman’s costume fondling expensive bottles of wine. You promised me I’d win and we’d run away together to the fabled Land of Huge Profit. And now you’ve rolled up your money hose. Noooooo!”
Ee.aaww..ee..awwlays said Evrim would win.
And so, as I tumble head first into Cold Vomit Lake, which lies just a few clicks up the Valley of Shitness, tucked under the dark, looming peak of Mount Callthesedrillresultsi’veseenbetterbrexitnumbers, I realise my life is at an end. My leadership of the table has been ended prematurely by a misplaced decimal point in a news release which I’m sure will be corrected tomorrow. Or later today perhaps. Or maybe it’s already in the works…Paddy..Paddy….you out there… Paddy..pick up the phone..Paddy please…answer me…I’m begging… don’t make me get down on my knees because you know I will…mum…mummy…
Chairman Ralph
Not so chin chin now are you eh?
PS: All is not totally lost though. Should Evrim recover to the mid 50s I could still take it. At the moment, that’s as unlikely as Stormy Daniels passing a virginity test but, you can always find a crooked doctor.
PPS: now I have to rewrite my winner’s speech. Fuck.
I heard that the stock picking team is searching for a humble pie recipe. What is your favourite filling Ralph, since you have to eat it.