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[Copypasta]WSB Buy $COCK
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.
πβ your πππ $COCK to the π
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.
πβ your πππ $COCK to the π
Anyone basing trades on technical analysis right now is a fucking tool
So many arrogant fucks here love talking technical analysis when they can't even do basic fraction arithmetic much less understand Ito Calculus. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a number you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not you deserve losing all and hanging yourself.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade shit you know about and feel still hasn't been spotted by the bandwagon of smooth brains on subreddits like this one or r/stocks . Or alternatively manipulate the market like the rich investors you look up to do. Warren Buffet's dad was a politician, if you think that shit didn't help that fat fuck then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about volatility and RSI. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in Hawaii with a fat titty chick not on Reddit posting "technical analysis".
So many arrogant fucks here love talking technical analysis when they can't even do basic fraction arithmetic much less understand Ito Calculus. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a number you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not you deserve losing all and hanging yourself.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade shit you know about and feel still hasn't been spotted by the bandwagon of smooth brains on subreddits like this one or r/stocks . Or alternatively manipulate the market like the rich investors you look up to do. Warren Buffet's dad was a politician, if you think that shit didn't help that fat fuck then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about volatility and RSI. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in Hawaii with a fat titty chick not on Reddit posting "technical analysis".
WSB Choose your fighter
Choose your fighter
Alex Magikarp π
Elon TechnoCuckLord π€+π€΄
Jeff Divorcedzos π
Salmonella π Nutella π«
Bill "HELL Giga GUH is coming" Clownman π€‘
Chamath, "I'm abouta fuck shit up" Papaya π
Ryan Cocken your butthole π₯π¦ πππ³
π₯ Z π₯ U π₯ C π₯ C π₯
Tim π Bottom π ±οΈENIS
Jack Ma MIA π€·ββοΈ
Cathie "A prayer a day keeps the π»s' away" or "Jesus, take my buying power" Woods πβοΈ
Choose your fighter
Alex Magikarp π
Elon TechnoCuckLord π€+π€΄
Jeff Divorcedzos π
Salmonella π Nutella π«
Bill "HELL Giga GUH is coming" Clownman π€‘
Chamath, "I'm abouta fuck shit up" Papaya π
Ryan Cocken your butthole π₯π¦ πππ³
π₯ Z π₯ U π₯ C π₯ C π₯
Tim π Bottom π ±οΈENIS
Jack Ma MIA π€·ββοΈ
Cathie "A prayer a day keeps the π»s' away" or "Jesus, take my buying power" Woods πβοΈ
Unrealized losses
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. βWhat?β you ask absentmindedly. Youβre looking at Futures, and youβre surprised to see them red.
βI want you to play with me.β She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isnβt 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, βI want to do that more.β
But youβve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. βUh huh,β you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you donβt realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you donβt say a word because you donβt notice.
She hasnβt left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. βWhat?β you ask absentmindedly. Youβre looking at Futures, and youβre surprised to see them red.
βI want you to play with me.β She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isnβt 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, βI want to do that more.β
But youβve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. βUh huh,β you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you donβt realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you donβt say a word because you donβt notice.
She hasnβt left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
Pre-market we could hear the bears in no-manβs 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 weβd 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 wonβt be won in a day, but it will be won. Tell my wifeβs boyfriend to tell her I love her.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
Pre-market we could hear the bears in no-manβs 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 weβd 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 wonβt be won in a day, but it will be won. Tell my wifeβs boyfriend to tell her I love her.