What the fuck did you just fucking say about OTM FDs
What the fuck did you just fucking say about OTM FDs, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated bottom of my class in the Special Needs Division of the Navy Seals, and I've been bag holding from pump n' dumps on WSB since 2012, AND I have over 300 confirmed margin calls. I am trained in the 'tism and I'm the top retard in the entire United States armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another normie retail investor. I will wipe out my portfolio with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about OTM FDs over the Internet? Think again, fuckface. As we speak I am contacting my wife's network of boyfriends across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your portfolio. Your fucking 401k is dead, kid. I can trade anywhere, anytime, and I can lose fat stacks over seven hundred ways, and that's just with TSLA FDs. Not only am I extensively trained in sniffing glue, but I have access to the entire crayon collection of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass boomer stocks off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit crayon diarrhea all over you, the likes of which would make even Jackson Pollock jealous, and you will drown in it. You're fucking done, kiddo.
What the fuck did you just fucking say about OTM FDs, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated bottom of my class in the Special Needs Division of the Navy Seals, and I've been bag holding from pump n' dumps on WSB since 2012, AND I have over 300 confirmed margin calls. I am trained in the 'tism and I'm the top retard in the entire United States armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another normie retail investor. I will wipe out my portfolio with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about OTM FDs over the Internet? Think again, fuckface. As we speak I am contacting my wife's network of boyfriends across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your portfolio. Your fucking 401k is dead, kid. I can trade anywhere, anytime, and I can lose fat stacks over seven hundred ways, and that's just with TSLA FDs. Not only am I extensively trained in sniffing glue, but I have access to the entire crayon collection of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass boomer stocks off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit crayon diarrhea all over you, the likes of which would make even Jackson Pollock jealous, and you will drown in it. You're fucking done, kiddo.
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
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."
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.
A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant
A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant.
3 years later,
NFLX fucking tanks 20% after earnings.
What happened to this ad? :(