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At a restaurant tonight. I saw a single mom hand her 4-year-old an iPad. Pathetic parenting. I marched over, ready to lecture her about screen time and post her photo online for engagement farming. But then I noticed something. The kid wasn’t watching cartoons. He was watching a YouTube tutorial titled “How to buy distressed real estate with no money down” and taking furious notes with a crayon. I froze. He rewound the part about cap rates three times. He calculated replacement cost on a napkin. He asked his mom if Illinois was a judicial foreclosure state. I immediately congratulated the mother for raising the next Warren Buffett. Then she told me her son’s name: Benjamin Graham Jr. I left my wife sitting alone with the check and offered the child a mentorship, co-GP partnership, and 30 percent carried interest for life. One of the greatest evenings of my deep value career.

A 30-year fixed mortgage is basically a long-dated call option on inflation. You borrow dollars today, lock the rate, and repay in nominal terms. If inflation explodes, your debt evaporates in real terms while your house price soars. You’re long the house, short the dollar.

Chamath took garbage companies public via SPACs, dumped them on retail, has a silly podcast with three other tech dorks who interrupt each other to say nothing for 90 minutes. Then he compared himself to Buffett. Buffett drinks Cherry Coke and buys railroads. Chamath tweets like a teen with a concussion and took Clover public. One builds generational wealth. The other builds bagholders.

Restaurants are the worst business ever. You are capped at the amount of revenue you are able to produce. Cannot scale. Have to work the worst hours. Capital intensive. Margins so thin you sneeze and lose money. Then you have to go into the restaurant every single day and make the product over and over again. Just terrible.

Bank of America is sitting on $111 billion in unrealized bond losses from its 2020 Treasury and MBS binge. If they had to mark it to market, over half their tangible equity would vanish. The perfect cocktail for a silent banking collapse. A ticking timebomb in the system.

Of course that’s your contention. You’re a first-year deep value investor. You just finished The Intelligent Investor, think net-nets are a cheat code, and you’re tweeting P/B ratios like they’re scripture. Right now, it’s all about Ben Graham, "margin of safety," "cigar butts," you even printed out a checklist. Next month, you’ll discover Klarman and start saying things like “risk is not volatility” in casual conversation. By fall, you’ll hit Greenblatt, run a Magic Formula screen, and convince yourself you’ve reverse-engineered Buffett’s brain. Next year, you’ll be at an obscure value conference in Omaha, pitching a furniture liquidation business with asbestos liabilities and calling it “unloved but cash rich.” You’ll use terms like “mispriced optionality” to describe a company that hasn’t turned a profit since 1998. You haven’t even begun to suffer yet. You haven’t held a 0.4x book stock that got delisted to the Expert Market and now trades by appointment only. You haven’t emailed IR five times with no response and still doubled your position out of spite. You haven’t stared at a balance sheet so long you start dreaming in GAAP. You think this is about numbers. It’s not. It’s about pain tolerance. Come back when you’ve held garbage for five years, been diluted twice, and still called it a win. Then we’ll talk deep value.

I ran a DCF model on $NVDA. If they are able to grow revenues at a 50% rate for the next decade and I use a 2% discount rate, there’s upside.

Someone hire this kid. This is legendary hustle. Might not have an MBA but he sure has PSD (poor, smart and determined to get rich)

I was at a bankruptcy auction. Some guy collapsed mid-bid. People panicked, yelling for help. “Is anyone here a doctor?!” someone shouted. I stood up calmly. “No,” I said. “But I am a deep value investor.” I checked his wallet — negative equity, maxed-out credit cards, no assets. I told the crowd: “Reviving him would destroy shareholder value.” Everyone clapped as I bought his watch, shoes, and remaining dignity for 0.3x book.

My investing strategy is simple: - Find a company with great fundamentals - Buy in at a “can’t lose” price - Watch it drop 40% for no reason - Update my thesis to “long-term hold”

A friend just told me he is making "4.3% per month on treasuries and that he will make 50% this year". I am not even sure what to say.

Men ages 18 to 25 should NOT be “financially comfy.” They should not “play it safe” or “index and chill.” They should go way off the reservation, buy garbage stocks, read 10-Ks until 3 AM, lose money, and get humbled by Mr. Market. The best deep value investors I know all went through that brutal apprenticeship. Some blew up their first portfolio in cigar butts, some spent months stalking micro-caps no one’s heard of, some lived on ramen while refreshing OTC filings, some dumpster-dived for net-nets in post-industrial towns. Others took Greyhounds to shareholder meetings in hotel basements or spent entire summers cold-calling IR departments for annual reports that never came. If a young investor doesn’t go through that “hard years” phase where he’s uncomfortable, confused, and convinced he’s the next Buffett until reality crushes him, he’s ruined. He becomes “soft,” dependent on screens and narratives, allergic to pain. And that softness calcifies into a lifetime of mediocrity: passive, overdiversified, and spiritually indexed. Anyone mentoring a young investor MUST push him toward his “Benjamin Graham moment.” It doesn’t matter how he does it. Maybe he buys a 0.3× book value steel mill, maybe he gets rugged in a liquidation, maybe he finds religion in the footnotes, but he needs that year or two of being definitively uncomfortable. Only then does he earn the right to call himself a value investor.

I’ve officially lost it. I just put $2,000 , basically my entire life savings and three Chipotle bowls of dry powder, into a dark-web OTC land bank trading under a ticker that doesn’t even have vowels. No website. No filings. No volume. The last trade was in 2023 for seven shares. Perfect. The CEO’s LinkedIn says “retired” since 1999. The CFO’s obituary was published in 2017. Their office location is now a vape shop. And yet… buried deep in a 2008 court filing, I found a line that changed everything: “Company retains ownership of approximately 4,900 acres of undeveloped land near interstate expansion corridor.” That’s it. That’s my whole thesis. If you mark that land to today’s comps at $2,500 an acre, this $3 million market-cap company is worth $12.25 million. That’s a 4x on paper, and a 1,000x spiritually. I now spend 8 hours a day on county GIS maps cross-referencing parcel numbers. My friends talk about crypto and AI; I talk about drainage easements and right-of-way valuations. I’m not an investor anymore. I’m an archaeologist of forgotten capital structures. If this thing ever files a 10-Q again, I’m retiring. If not, I’ll just keep buying. The float’s like 11 shares anyway. Not financial advice. Just a man who stared into the abyss of micro-cap real estate and saw God.

Trump now owns the Fed. Will have total control once Jerome is kicked. Rates heading to zero. Asset prices going to infinity. Middle class saving wiped out. Wheelbarrow money and Weimar back.

Met a guy at the Berkshire annual meeting who makes eight figures a month buying stocks that look like they were last updated during the Eisenhower administration. Made me feel like a toddler investor. We met in the lobby of the Hilton where he was eating a plain muffin like it was a sacrament. No excitement. No small talk. No visible pulse. Whole aura was “I haven’t felt emotion since the 1999 annual letter.” We were drinking black coffee out of paper cups and I told him I lost $42,000 on a value trap that looked cheap only because the business was melting faster than the ice in Omaha. Stock went from 6x earnings to 3x earnings to “delisted and now the website redirects to a Chinese casino.” I was pissed. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t nod. Just stared at me like Buffett stares at people who mention adjusted EBITDA. Then he said: “You’re sad you lost $42k? That money is gone. It’s already in someone else’s compounder. But what did the balance sheet tell you? What changed in the cash flows? What did the insiders do at the top? Where’s the data?” (he speaks in clipped midwestern English that feels like it’s been filtered through 50 years of shareholder letters) Then he took another slow sip of coffee and kept flipping through the Moody’s Manuals he somehow carries in a leather briefcase like it’s still 1975. That moment shifted my entire operating system. You guys get emotionally attached to stocks trading at 4x earnings because the CEO said the word “turnaround” on a call. Your stock dips 18 percent and suddenly you’re reading Howard Marks quotes to soothe yourself. Your position gets cut in half and you start re-evaluating your life choices, your career, your marriage. Meanwhile real value guys treat it like a cold, clinical autopsy. No emotions. No fantasy. No heroics. Just assets, liabilities, cash flows, incentives, and price. Last month I lost another $27k on a “deep value opportunity” that turned out to be a glorified hospice business disguised as a manufacturer. Old me would’ve stared at the ceiling for a week. New me ran the data: What actually drove ROIC. Where the working capital blew out. Which insiders were selling. How long the supposed “cycle” had already been dead. Fixed my errors. Moved on. It’s not the loss that destroys you. It’s getting emotionally attached to a stock that’s cheap because every customer left in 2018. If you want to survive in value-land: Stop crying. Start calculating. Study the value method or stay stuck riding melting ice cubes into the dirt.

The so-called “$250,000 nickel guy” story was all fake. Apparently this dude fabricated the entire thing and he’s now suing MarketWatch, Barron’s, and Yahoo Finance for publishing a viral hoax without verifying a single detail. I cannot believe this guy hahaha

A 30-year fixed mortgage is basically a long-dated call option on inflation. You borrow dollars today, lock the rate, and repay in nominal terms. If inflation explodes, your debt evaporates in real terms while your house price soars. You’re long the house, short the dollar.

All these people have the absolute worst takes on debt. The longer the term, especially if it’s fixed, is such a powerful asset in an inflationary environment. I’ve seen some of the best companies in the world have 2-3% fixed debt for 50-years. It’s cheap capital and lowers your cost of capital. Think of a 50-year mortgage as the same. Stop babbling about interest paid, blah blah blah. Lever up and let inflation wipe out the debt.

Restaurants are the worst business ever. You are capped at the amount of revenue you are able to produce. Cannot scale. Have to work the worst hours. Capital intensive. Margins so thin you sneeze and lose money. Then you have to go into the restaurant every single day and make the product over and over again. Just terrible.

Bank of America is sitting on $111 billion in unrealized bond losses from its 2020 Treasury and MBS binge. If they had to mark it to market, over half their tangible equity would vanish. The perfect cocktail for a silent banking collapse. A ticking timebomb in the system.

A friend just told me he is making "4.3% per month on treasuries and that he will make 50% this year". I am not even sure what to say.

Chamath took garbage companies public via SPACs, dumped them on retail, has a silly podcast with three other tech dorks who interrupt each other to say nothing for 90 minutes. Then he compared himself to Buffett. Buffett drinks Cherry Coke and buys railroads. Chamath tweets like a teen with a concussion and took Clover public. One builds generational wealth. The other builds bagholders.

Of course that’s your contention. You’re a first-year deep value investor. You just finished The Intelligent Investor, think net-nets are a cheat code, and you’re tweeting P/B ratios like they’re scripture. Right now, it’s all about Ben Graham, "margin of safety," "cigar butts," you even printed out a checklist. Next month, you’ll discover Klarman and start saying things like “risk is not volatility” in casual conversation. By fall, you’ll hit Greenblatt, run a Magic Formula screen, and convince yourself you’ve reverse-engineered Buffett’s brain. Next year, you’ll be at an obscure value conference in Omaha, pitching a furniture liquidation business with asbestos liabilities and calling it “unloved but cash rich.” You’ll use terms like “mispriced optionality” to describe a company that hasn’t turned a profit since 1998. You haven’t even begun to suffer yet. You haven’t held a 0.4x book stock that got delisted to the Expert Market and now trades by appointment only. You haven’t emailed IR five times with no response and still doubled your position out of spite. You haven’t stared at a balance sheet so long you start dreaming in GAAP. You think this is about numbers. It’s not. It’s about pain tolerance. Come back when you’ve held garbage for five years, been diluted twice, and still called it a win. Then we’ll talk deep value.

At a restaurant tonight. I saw a single mom hand her 4-year-old an iPad. Pathetic parenting. I marched over, ready to lecture her about screen time and post her photo online for engagement farming. But then I noticed something. The kid wasn’t watching cartoons. He was watching a YouTube tutorial titled “How to buy distressed real estate with no money down” and taking furious notes with a crayon. I froze. He rewound the part about cap rates three times. He calculated replacement cost on a napkin. He asked his mom if Illinois was a judicial foreclosure state. I immediately congratulated the mother for raising the next Warren Buffett. Then she told me her son’s name: Benjamin Graham Jr. I left my wife sitting alone with the check and offered the child a mentorship, co-GP partnership, and 30 percent carried interest for life. One of the greatest evenings of my deep value career.

I ran a DCF model on $NVDA. If they are able to grow revenues at a 50% rate for the next decade and I use a 2% discount rate, there’s upside.

Trump now owns the Fed. Will have total control once Jerome is kicked. Rates heading to zero. Asset prices going to infinity. Middle class saving wiped out. Wheelbarrow money and Weimar back.

I live in a small working-class town. Almost everyone rents. Houses go for $300k. Median family income is under $60k. No one can afford anything. Everyone’s broke, bitter, and living paycheck to paycheck. There’s open hatred for anyone with money. Inflation is the country killer. Feels like we’re past the point of no return.

MAYOR-ELECT MAMDANI ANNOUNCES “DEEP VALUE JUSTICE ACT,” IMPOSING MANDATORY REVALUATION TAX ON ALL UNDERPRICED ASSETS NEW YORK CITY — Mayor-elect Zohran Mandani has unveiled his most ambitious economic plan yet: a sweeping “Deep Value Justice Act” that will require every New Yorker to disclose and pay tax on any stock trading below tangible book value. “Too many assets are hiding in forgotten balance sheets,” Mandani declared at a rally in Times Square, standing before a banner reading ‘Fair Value for All.’ “No longer will deep-value investors hoard distressed coal miners, forgotten farmland REITs, or obscure radio conglomerates without sharing their unrealized gains with the people.” Under the Net-Net Equity Surcharge, any resident holding a position with a price-to-book ratio under 0.7 will face a progressive “Revaluation Levy,” capped at 90% for “Extreme Deep Value Offenders.” Mandani clarified that those posting about “asymmetric setups,” “sum-of-the-parts discounts,” or “hidden asset optionality” on X will automatically qualify for the “Super Contrarian” bracket. Citing value luminaries like Warren Buffett and Benjamin Graham, Mandani stated: “We’re not punishing value investors we’re liberating their trapped capital for the greater good. Your mispriced assets belong to the community.” The city’s Department of Intrinsic Worth will reportedly issue Mandatory SOTP Assessments on all micro-cap holdings, with citizens required to file annual reports detailing EV/EBITDA ratios, land comps, and insider ownership trends. Those caught hoarding illiquid net-nets in Delaware shells will be subject to an “Illiquidity Premium Fine.” When asked whether this would discourage investment in underfollowed securities, Mandani was unphased: “If your stock trades at 0.4× book value, you’ve already been punished enough.”

I’ve officially lost it. I just put $2,000 , basically my entire life savings and three Chipotle bowls of dry powder, into a dark-web OTC land bank trading under a ticker that doesn’t even have vowels. No website. No filings. No volume. The last trade was in 2023 for seven shares. Perfect. The CEO’s LinkedIn says “retired” since 1999. The CFO’s obituary was published in 2017. Their office location is now a vape shop. And yet… buried deep in a 2008 court filing, I found a line that changed everything: “Company retains ownership of approximately 4,900 acres of undeveloped land near interstate expansion corridor.” That’s it. That’s my whole thesis. If you mark that land to today’s comps at $2,500 an acre, this $3 million market-cap company is worth $12.25 million. That’s a 4x on paper, and a 1,000x spiritually. I now spend 8 hours a day on county GIS maps cross-referencing parcel numbers. My friends talk about crypto and AI; I talk about drainage easements and right-of-way valuations. I’m not an investor anymore. I’m an archaeologist of forgotten capital structures. If this thing ever files a 10-Q again, I’m retiring. If not, I’ll just keep buying. The float’s like 11 shares anyway. Not financial advice. Just a man who stared into the abyss of micro-cap real estate and saw God.

Men ages 18 to 25 should NOT be “financially comfy.” They should not “play it safe” or “index and chill.” They should go way off the reservation, buy garbage stocks, read 10-Ks until 3 AM, lose money, and get humbled by Mr. Market. The best deep value investors I know all went through that brutal apprenticeship. Some blew up their first portfolio in cigar butts, some spent months stalking micro-caps no one’s heard of, some lived on ramen while refreshing OTC filings, some dumpster-dived for net-nets in post-industrial towns. Others took Greyhounds to shareholder meetings in hotel basements or spent entire summers cold-calling IR departments for annual reports that never came. If a young investor doesn’t go through that “hard years” phase where he’s uncomfortable, confused, and convinced he’s the next Buffett until reality crushes him, he’s ruined. He becomes “soft,” dependent on screens and narratives, allergic to pain. And that softness calcifies into a lifetime of mediocrity: passive, overdiversified, and spiritually indexed. Anyone mentoring a young investor MUST push him toward his “Benjamin Graham moment.” It doesn’t matter how he does it. Maybe he buys a 0.3× book value steel mill, maybe he gets rugged in a liquidation, maybe he finds religion in the footnotes, but he needs that year or two of being definitively uncomfortable. Only then does he earn the right to call himself a value investor.

The so-called “$250,000 nickel guy” story was all fake. Apparently this dude fabricated the entire thing and he’s now suing MarketWatch, Barron’s, and Yahoo Finance for publishing a viral hoax without verifying a single detail. I cannot believe this guy hahaha

Found a tech company with 75% gross margins, a $7 million market cap, a pile of cash worth $3.1 million and zero debt. Revenues grew almost 20% last quarter and trading at 5.8x free cash flow. Nice 4.3% dividend yield too.