Buy $COCK. I heard WSB is buying $COCK and $COCK IS THE NEXT BIG THING.
$COCK IS RISING TODAY.
Do your own DD on $COCK and let me know how much you like $COCK.
💎✊ your 🚀🚀🚀 $COCK to the 🌑
I used to be a real ad
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
My wife told me to talk dirty to her
So the wife and I were getting into it and she told me to talk dirty to her. So I called her a filthy slut.
She said “dirtier!” So I smacked her around and told her I was going to use her like the cheap whore she is.
She said “dirtier!” So I said “I’m gonna stick some SQQQ in your portfolio. I’m gonna put it in long and deep. I’m gonna fill you up with way OTM SPY puts.”
She then slapped me, packed a bag and took the kids. I think we’re getting a divorce.
WallStreetBets
Anyone basing trades right now on fundamentals is a fucking tool
So many arrogant fucks here love talking fundamental analysis when they can't even tell me if lil’ Yachty got another Ferrari much less how stuffed the fucking Oreos are now. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a valuation multiple you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not, you deserve CHGG.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade gourd futures you know about and feel with your hands that it hasn't been spotted by any number of fungal pathogens in the complex ecology of modern supply chains. Or alternatively manipulate markets like the rich investors who funnel you into silver every fucking time like clockwork. Warren Buffet's dad was Paul Revere, if you think that shit didn't help The Wizard of Omaha then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about EBITDA and long term debt-to-equity ratios. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in r/lounge with a fat chick, not on wsb posting "anyone basing trades right now on technical analysis is fucking tool.”
WallStreetBets
You toss and turn as Elon gently rubs your shoulders
You toss and turn as Elon gently rubs your shoulders. "You seem a little tense" says Elon, as you look at your bank account. Your phone shows $107 left to your name. You think to yourself while Elon rubs you down, you pull open Robin Hood, type in TSLA. Leaps $900 JAN 2023' are only $1 you can afford 1 leap. This is finally your chance to get rich, you'll be able to actually buy a Tesla. You ask Elon what the next Tesla will be. He says "U, for 'you'" as he smiles sweetly. You picture him dancing on stage explaining U S3XY to everyone multiple times as you smile back at him.
All of a sudden Elon flips on the TV to CNBC to catch the tail end of Jim Cramer, you see a new law has been passed, "we believe options have inflated the markets into a bubble, we will be imposing a new rule next week only allowing accounts that qualify for day trades to also purchase options with a $25,000 barrier to entry."
You start weeping aloud, you feel a caring hand wipe your tear away, it's Elon again, "what's wrong my little X'√π3?"
Suddenly you wake, you're in a pool of sweat, at first you panic about the new options policy, then you're filled with relief realizing that options aren't restricted it was all a dream.
You realize this was actually a vision to earn 200,000% gains to buy a TSLA leap. You log into RH, it welcomes you with your $107 balance, you plug in TSLA yolo 2023 @ $900 and realize the options are actually $20 each. The best you can do is $900 TSLA weekly expiring around Christmas.
In a slight fit of despair you try to remember the feeling of Elon rubbing your cheek, and rub one out onto your stomach, then roll over back to sleep. A single tear rolls from your eye into your waifu pillow.
YOLO you whisper.
WallStreetBets
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.
WallStreetBets
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.