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[Copypasta]I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
I'm actually a pretty advanced bait station designer
I'm actually a pretty advanced bait station designer. While my formal education is a bit lacking, my cad and computer animation skills are really good, and I have some truly paradigm shifting ideas for bait stations, both vr and non vr.
currently in the beginning stages of seeking VC funds, really trying to move my operation from San Antonio to Austin, a second location could triple my revenue right now.
Obviously right now all our orders are high end custom stations, way out of reach for the avg wsb user. Its my dream to one day be able to produce real bait stations in a production environment.
Right now my company is in talks with several engineering firms out of Seoul to take our cum recycling system and some how use the energy from the spent cum to recharge the batteries.
While the technology is new. It has huge applications. Imagine when you go to charge your tsla, its powered completely by cum.
No longer must we let our nonbiological female prostitutes flush our GOLD down the toilet post coitus, that shit is going to drive our new society.
The money we save as a society on sock costs alone is tremendous.
I'm actually a pretty advanced bait station designer. While my formal education is a bit lacking, my cad and computer animation skills are really good, and I have some truly paradigm shifting ideas for bait stations, both vr and non vr.
currently in the beginning stages of seeking VC funds, really trying to move my operation from San Antonio to Austin, a second location could triple my revenue right now.
Obviously right now all our orders are high end custom stations, way out of reach for the avg wsb user. Its my dream to one day be able to produce real bait stations in a production environment.
Right now my company is in talks with several engineering firms out of Seoul to take our cum recycling system and some how use the energy from the spent cum to recharge the batteries.
While the technology is new. It has huge applications. Imagine when you go to charge your tsla, its powered completely by cum.
No longer must we let our nonbiological female prostitutes flush our GOLD down the toilet post coitus, that shit is going to drive our new society.
The money we save as a society on sock costs alone is tremendous.
Unrealized losses
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. “What?” you ask absentmindedly. You’re looking at Futures, and you’re surprised to see them red.
“I want you to play with me.” She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isn’t totally aloof realizes she said this in earnest. And so you do. You throw your phone, and you pin her to the sofa, then the ground. You both roll about, wrestling, like lion cubs. Kissing, lightly biting. Sometime later, you both stop, breathing hard. She grabs an open bottle of red wine, and you pass it back and forth. Eventually she says, “I want to do that more.”
But you’ve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. “Uh huh,” you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you don’t realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you don’t say a word because you don’t notice.
She hasn’t left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. “What?” you ask absentmindedly. You’re looking at Futures, and you’re surprised to see them red.
“I want you to play with me.” She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isn’t totally aloof realizes she said this in earnest. And so you do. You throw your phone, and you pin her to the sofa, then the ground. You both roll about, wrestling, like lion cubs. Kissing, lightly biting. Sometime later, you both stop, breathing hard. She grabs an open bottle of red wine, and you pass it back and forth. Eventually she says, “I want to do that more.”
But you’ve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. “Uh huh,” you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you don’t realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you don’t say a word because you don’t notice.
She hasn’t left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
Jeff Bezos vs Elon Musk
Jeff Bezos
-Bald
-Exwife took half his networth
-Second richest person
Elon Musk
-Grew back full head of hair
-Has girlfriend, allegedly had a threesome with Amber Heard and Cara Delevingne
-Richest person
TSLA > AMZN
Jeff Bezos
-Bald
-Exwife took half his networth
-Second richest person
Elon Musk
-Grew back full head of hair
-Has girlfriend, allegedly had a threesome with Amber Heard and Cara Delevingne
-Richest person
TSLA > AMZN
Bloomberg terminal vs toilet trading
Imagine spending 20K on a bloomberg terminal and thousands on hardware just to get smoke checked by some retards on the toilet trading on their phone that are not only on the spectrum but might be the actual spectrum.
Imagine spending 20K on a bloomberg terminal and thousands on hardware just to get smoke checked by some retards on the toilet trading on their phone that are not only on the spectrum but might be the actual spectrum.
Bears after a green day
It’s 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelina’s frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their father’s basement, grab the keys to their tan ‘97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word “VOTE,” and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
It’s 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelina’s frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their father’s basement, grab the keys to their tan ‘97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word “VOTE,” and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.