Pre-Market Briefing: Something Wicked This Way Comes, June 12, 2025, 6:51 AM EDT
Dispatches from The Last Sane Bastard in This Casino
Well, strap in, you miserable market degenerates—KingCAMBO’s roaring out of the fortified compound at 6:51 AM with a vicious, gut-punching screed! Something wicked this way comes, and the June e-mini futures are shitting their pants: Dow (YM) -268, S&P (ES) -25.75, Nasdaq (NQ) -75.00, and the VIX has leapt to a jittery 18.45. Shiver me timbers—this ain’t no Sunday picnic! Why the hell these futures got their panties in a bunch, I haven’t a fucking clue, but the econ crap keeps painting the tape today and tomorrow. Buckle up, you bastards!
Macro Madness Ahead
Today’s got a nasty lineup: Producer Price Index (PPI) data, the European Central Bank (ECB) Rate Decision, and that $22 billion 30-year Treasury auction—all primed to torch the tape or bore us to death. Tomorrow’s US Jobs Data (Non-Farm Payrolls, Unemployment Rate, Average Hourly Earnings) is the grand finale. Grab your Fireball whisky and pray—ketamine’s optional!
Shitcoin’s Bullish Struggle
BTC spot is printing $107,274.00, scraping the lows of the past few days, with ATR tightening but still in bull compression according to my dope—coiled like a pissed-off cobra! My “short-termish” targets hold firm:
Upside target: $116,313.22
Downside risk: $98,504.80**
Want the full gonzo dive into my 2025 BTC prophecies? Rip into Beavis, Butthead, and Bitcoin: A Gonzo Ride to $236,887 or Bust—a wild-ass trek through the crypto jungle. New feature at the Fear and Loathing fortress: intraday BTC targets! Today’s resistance levels, based on overnight ranges:
• $107,646.02
• $108,201.03
• $108,478.53
• $109,033.54
Bust through those, and I’ll reboot my Flux Capacitor for higher targets. Will it soar or crash? Stock up on barf bags, you crypto freaks!
Stocks: The Pre-Market Slaughterhouse
Let’s shred these tickers, you bloodthirsty hyenas:
OKLO Inc. (OKLR) at $68.03, +2.5%—nuclear hype blasting to new highs, but watch that volatility!
Quantum Computing Inc. (QUBT) at $18.97, -1.5%—quantum dreams cooling slightly.
NuScale Power Corp. (SMR) at $41.60, +0.0%—steady as she goes per the finance card above, but brace for macro swings.
Rigetti Computing (RGTI) at $12.52, +0.0%—quantum buzz holding steady from the finance card above.
Fluor Corp. (FLR) at $49.79, +0.0%—solid engineering per the finance card above, but watch that support.
These are your battlegrounds—trade ‘em if you’ve got the stones!
Market Movers: Panic or Puke
This pre-market’s a powder keg—futures are tanking, the VIX is twitching, and macro data’s the match. PPI, ECB, and that $22 billion auction today could spark a rally or a rout. Tomorrow’s jobs data looms like a guillotine. Survive without Fireball and ketamine, and you’re a goddamn hero!
Engage, You Gutless Pikers!
Crave my unhinged rants? Follow my intraday inane drivel and sporadic brain droppings on My Fucking Notes—short, savage, and slamming you in the face harder than this wicked tape, you spineless bastards! Hit that follow button and join the carnage!
Join the High Rollers, You Cheap Skulls!
Sick of this macro madness frying your brain? Snag a 7-day free trial to my paid service for $5 a month—cheaper than your overpriced Fireball and packing a brutal punch. Get the savage insights to dominate at kingcambo812.substack.com. High rollers only—don’t waste my time!
Final Word
This pre-market’s a wicked shitstorm—survive the macro meat grinder, or chug that Fireball. I am KingCAMBO, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em, and that’s how I ROLL on this pre-market insanity!
King Cambo’s Fear and Loathing “Legal” Disclaimer: Alright, buckle up, you madcap truth-seekers, ‘cause I’m about to sling this disclaimer straight from the edge of a neon-drenched abyss, for you magnificent bastards, with a belly full of cheap whiskey and a mind like a chrome-plated slot machine spitting sparks. This ain’t no polite suggestion to buy or sell stocks, securities, or any of that Wall Street bullshit—it’s just my raw, unfiltered brain-droppings, spewed out like a busted fire hydrant. I’m a walking financial disaster, hemorrhaging cash on trades and investments like a gambler on a three-day bender. I might snatch up any stock I yap about here or dump it faster than a getaway car at a bank heist, and I won’t send you a postcard about it. This ain’t a pitch to buy or sell jack shit! I might own the names I’m ranting about, or I might not—could be bullish and empty-handed, bearish with a fistful of shares. Hell, assume I’m playing the exact opposite game you think, just to keep you on your toes. If I’m long, I could flip short before the ink dries; if I’m short, I might go long by lunch. No updates, no apologies—my positions shift like desert sands in a sandstorm. You’re out here in the wilds, solo, so don’t you dare lean on my blog for your big money moves. I’m a fringe-dweller, howling at the moon, and the publisher ain’t vouching for the half-cocked “facts” I sling. These ain’t the opinions of my bosses, buddies, or anyone else dumb enough to know me. I do my damndest to keep my disclosures straight, but I’m scribbling this after a few beers, maybe a shot of mezcal, so don’t bet your ranch on my accuracy. I tweak my posts after they’re live ‘cause I’m an impatient bastard, too lazy to proofread. Spot a typo? Come back in 30 minutes, it might be gone—or worse. And let’s get one thing crystal: I fuck up. “I fuck up a lot.” I’m saying it twice ‘cause it’s the only gospel I’ve got. Now go, you beautiful lunatics, and don’t blame me when the market chews you up and spits you out.