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[Copypasta]I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
I want JPow to use his full range of tools on me 😫
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.
💎✊ your 🚀🚀🚀 $COCK to the 🌑
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 🌑
Graham Stephen is stingy
Graham Stephen the kind of guy that suck his own pp and cum in his own mouth to save tissue
Graham Stephen the kind of guy that suck his own pp and cum in his own mouth to save tissue
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.