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More WallStreetBets Copypastas
Daily stock prayer
Time for our daily prayer:
Our calls, Who art in PLTR,
Perfect be Thy Timing.
Thy tendies come.
Thy expirations be done,
on earth as it is in Wall Street.
Give us this day our daily Lambos.
And forgive us of our puts,
as we forgive those who buy puts against us.
And lead us not into Debt,
but deliver us unto tendies. Amen
Time for our daily prayer:
Our calls, Who art in PLTR,
Perfect be Thy Timing.
Thy tendies come.
Thy expirations be done,
on earth as it is in Wall Street.
Give us this day our daily Lambos.
And forgive us of our puts,
as we forgive those who buy puts against us.
And lead us not into Debt,
but deliver us unto tendies. Amen
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
Stonks only go up. But you don't.
You watch her as she brushes her hair. She’s humming a song you can’t quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. “What do you want for Christmas?” You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. “Nothing, really.”
“Nothing?” She crawls into bed and touches your leg. “Are you sure?” Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. They’ll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
Stonks only go up.
But you don’t.
You watch her as she brushes her hair. She’s humming a song you can’t quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. “What do you want for Christmas?” You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. “Nothing, really.”
“Nothing?” She crawls into bed and touches your leg. “Are you sure?” Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. They’ll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
Stonks only go up.
But you don’t.
We can't blame market
To be fair "but I poop from there" wasn't an explicit "no". We can't blame market for doing what it did.
To be fair "but I poop from there" wasn't an explicit "no". We can't blame market for doing what it did.
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.
