Market Recap: The -1.85% Euro-Panic and Other Reasons I’m Under My Desk

Written by: George from The Smartin Team

I’m sitting here looking at the Euro Stoxx 50—down -1.85% this week—and I’m already looking for my passport. Why? I don’t even have a passport! I don’t even like Europe! But the moment a bunch of guys in Brussels lose two percent, I’m convinced I need to flee to a country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with my own credit card company.

Then I look at the TA-35 in Israel, down -3.17%. Do you know what that is? It’s a sign. It’s a signal from the universe that I should have stayed in bed. It’s the market’s way of saying, “George, we know you’re trying, but have you considered just putting your money in a hole in the backyard?”

The Continental Drift of My Net Worth

The US market is just sitting there, mocking me. AAPL and TSLA are gainers this week. Fine. Whatever. But then I see GME and AMC on the leaderboard. Again? It’s like a high school reunion where the only people who showed up in limos are the guys who used to sell bootleg fireworks out of their lockers. These aren’t companies; they’re fever dreams.

I’m trying to find growth at a reasonable price stocks, but the market is giving me “insanity at a premium price.” Peter Lynch says to look at the PEG ratio, but these meme stocks don’t have a PEG ratio; they have a “Peggy,” and she’s a psychic in Jersey who told them the moon is made of emeralds. I look at the debt on some of these gainers and it’s not a balance sheet, it’s a suicide note.

Why Fundamentals are Just Suggestions Now

Then we have the “losers.” BX, BLK, and WING. Blackstone and BlackRock are down? The people who own the world are losing money? If they’re losing money, what chance do I have? I’m just a guy who once tried to return a half-eaten sandwich!

And WING—Wingstop is down. People have stopped eating wings? Is that where we are? Is the economy so bad we can’t afford to dip processed chicken into ranch dressing anymore? That’s it. That’s the indicator. Forget the Fed, watch the drumsticks.

I want to buy the dip, but my gut is screaming at me to sell everything and buy gold bars to sew into my coat lining. And since my gut is a documented financial terrorist, I’m doing the opposite. I’m staring at PLTR and thinking, “Maybe the robots should run my life. They couldn’t do a worse job than I’m doing.”

You need to stop listening to your “instincts” and start looking at the math. If you don’t know where to start, read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Peter Lynch Investing before you end up like me, trying to hedge your portfolio with spite and deli meat.

Investing is like dry cleaning. You hand over a silk shirt—your hard-earned capital—and you hope to get it back clean and pressed. Instead, the market gives you back a pair of polyester pants that only fit a toddler and a bill for thirty dollars.

I’m going to the dry cleaner now to see if they can press my hypothetical passport. At least someone will be getting flattened this week.

Stop making decisions based on your inner neurotic and get a 15-second sanity check.