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More WallStreetBets Copypastas
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.
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.
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.
Not financial advise
I'm starting to think the people telling me to buy BB at $20 were being serious about not being financial advisors
I'm starting to think the people telling me to buy BB at $20 were being serious about not being financial advisors
Bear King Burry vs TSLA
Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly.
"The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee.
TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair.
Bear King Burry turns to the crowd
"Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?"
A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries.
On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time.
"Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..."
Bear King Burry turns to WSB
"Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch."
"Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want."
A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring.
"And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously.
BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends.
"Who am I?" the robed figure inquires.
The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall.
The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence.
"Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly.
The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature.
The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes.
"I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly.
"The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee.
TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair.
Bear King Burry turns to the crowd
"Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?"
A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries.
On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time.
"Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..."
Bear King Burry turns to WSB
"Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch."
"Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want."
A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring.
"And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously.
BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends.
"Who am I?" the robed figure inquires.
The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall.
The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence.
"Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly.
The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature.
The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes.
"I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
