Oh boy I can't wait until 2024 when I can wake up to my Apple Homepod Siri alarm and check my Apple Watch for notifications and take a shower in my Apple Big Douche then put my makeup on before work in my Apple Mirror then take my Apple Car to my job at Apple Phone Plant #584 so I can work on my Mac Pro workstation designing the latest Apple Product the iShit smart toilet that syncs with your iAsshole to sense when you have a massive log brewing in my large intestine and sends me a notification to my apple colonoscopy bag. Russian hackers will know what I had for dinner.
Oh boy I can't wait until 2024 when I can wake up to my Apple Homepod Siri alarm and check my Apple Watch for notifications and take a shower in my Apple Big Douche then put my makeup on before work in my Apple Mirror then take my Apple Car to my job at Apple Phone Plant #584 so I can work on my Mac Pro workstation designing the latest Apple Product the iShit smart toilet that syncs with your iAsshole to sense when you have a massive log brewing in my large intestine and sends me a notification to my apple colonoscopy bag. Russian hackers will know what I had for dinner.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
Pre-market we could hear the bears in no-man’s land, baiting us towards higher prices so the shorts could do their dirty work. I was stationed at the 13.80 line, and knew the morning was going to be hot. I shoveled a breakfast of tendies and said a quick prayer to Father Cohen.
When the bell rang, the bears surged into our trenches. Blood and rainbow fur filled the air and littered the ground. The Diamond Division has seen worse days, and we held firm. As the bears retreated we gave chase to retake ground we’d lost in the past week.
As I caught my breath near the 14.50, I could see bodies everywhere; paper hands who had fallen in earlier battles. One of them groaned and reached a hand towards me. I spat on him and kept moving. No honor in retreat, and no sympathy for self-inflicted wounds.
This war won’t be won in a day, but it will be won. Tell my wife’s boyfriend to tell her I love her.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
Pre-market we could hear the bears in no-man’s land, baiting us towards higher prices so the shorts could do their dirty work. I was stationed at the 13.80 line, and knew the morning was going to be hot. I shoveled a breakfast of tendies and said a quick prayer to Father Cohen.
When the bell rang, the bears surged into our trenches. Blood and rainbow fur filled the air and littered the ground. The Diamond Division has seen worse days, and we held firm. As the bears retreated we gave chase to retake ground we’d lost in the past week.
As I caught my breath near the 14.50, I could see bodies everywhere; paper hands who had fallen in earlier battles. One of them groaned and reached a hand towards me. I spat on him and kept moving. No honor in retreat, and no sympathy for self-inflicted wounds.
This war won’t be won in a day, but it will be won. Tell my wife’s boyfriend to tell her I love her.
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
GME stock and WSB vs short sellers
Let me tell you what happens tomorrow because it's even worse than what happened today. There they are, Melvin Capital. Furiously jerking their 2 inch boomer cocks to their GME short gainz. They are so close, edging themselves with "Oh yeah, the next Blockbuster" and "Yes baby, brick and mortar go bye-bye." They even sit in a circle sucking and jerking each other off, double fisting like they're skiing down Mt. Everest with cocks instead of poles.
Out of nowhere, Ryan Cohen steps in with the most massive and vieniest schlong they've ever seen. He starts eating their lunch and muttering about Cheey for games and they can't do anything because their engorged penises are stuck in eachothers mouths and poop chutes. They attempt to ignorr him and try to keep jerking but they accidentally used hand sanitizer instead of lotion. BAM GME starts rising from the ashes and the retards of WSB are lighting the fires. We brought lighters that we borrowed from our wives boyfriend's and they weren't those shitty clear one. We have motherfucking Bics and torches.
Melvin is crying and pleading but we are too retarded to understand coherent English. They see giant red dildos on their screens and their buttholes begin to pucker. They dump everything they have at us in an attempt to supress the price but again, we only understand broken english and emojis. We only understand basic visuals and colors. When we see green, we buy. When we see red, we take out another student loan or CC cash advance and we buy more. We are fucking unstoppable. GME skyrockets and they start scrambling to pull dicks out of random orifices, but it's too late. Bears R Fuk. After we are done splooging all over their faces, and becoming their wife's new boyfriends, we throw Melvin and BOA on the chopping block to be liquidated and disposed of.
That's what happens tomorrow, and we are gonna turn that shit into a movie.
Let me tell you what happens tomorrow because it's even worse than what happened today. There they are, Melvin Capital. Furiously jerking their 2 inch boomer cocks to their GME short gainz. They are so close, edging themselves with "Oh yeah, the next Blockbuster" and "Yes baby, brick and mortar go bye-bye." They even sit in a circle sucking and jerking each other off, double fisting like they're skiing down Mt. Everest with cocks instead of poles.
Out of nowhere, Ryan Cohen steps in with the most massive and vieniest schlong they've ever seen. He starts eating their lunch and muttering about Cheey for games and they can't do anything because their engorged penises are stuck in eachothers mouths and poop chutes. They attempt to ignorr him and try to keep jerking but they accidentally used hand sanitizer instead of lotion. BAM GME starts rising from the ashes and the retards of WSB are lighting the fires. We brought lighters that we borrowed from our wives boyfriend's and they weren't those shitty clear one. We have motherfucking Bics and torches.
Melvin is crying and pleading but we are too retarded to understand coherent English. They see giant red dildos on their screens and their buttholes begin to pucker. They dump everything they have at us in an attempt to supress the price but again, we only understand broken english and emojis. We only understand basic visuals and colors. When we see green, we buy. When we see red, we take out another student loan or CC cash advance and we buy more. We are fucking unstoppable. GME skyrockets and they start scrambling to pull dicks out of random orifices, but it's too late. Bears R Fuk. After we are done splooging all over their faces, and becoming their wife's new boyfriends, we throw Melvin and BOA on the chopping block to be liquidated and disposed of.
That's what happens tomorrow, and we are gonna turn that shit into a movie.