Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth JPOW The Wise?
Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth JPOW The Wise? I thought not. It’s not a story the Motley Fool would tell you. It’s a 🏳️🌈🐻 legend. Darth JPOW was a Dark Lord of the FED, so gay and such a bear he could use his money printer to influence the economy to create inflation… He had such a knowledge of the economy that he could even keep stonk prices from falling. The dark side of the economy is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be… transitory. He became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his tendies, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught Nancy Pelosi everything he knew, then she sold at the top. Ironic. He could save others from market corrections, but not himself.
Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth JPOW The Wise? I thought not. It’s not a story the Motley Fool would tell you. It’s a 🏳️🌈🐻 legend. Darth JPOW was a Dark Lord of the FED, so gay and such a bear he could use his money printer to influence the economy to create inflation… He had such a knowledge of the economy that he could even keep stonk prices from falling. The dark side of the economy is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be… transitory. He became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his tendies, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught Nancy Pelosi everything he knew, then she sold at the top. Ironic. He could save others from market corrections, but not himself.
Stimulus talks going well in 2946
The year is 2946, Robot Mitch McConnel and Cyborg Nancy Pelosi report stimulus talks going well.
The Dow rewards them and hits 6.02 x 1023.
The year is 2946, Robot Mitch McConnel and Cyborg Nancy Pelosi report stimulus talks going well.
The Dow rewards them and hits 6.02 x 1023.
a tesla drives down the street in 2021
the year is 2021
A tesla drives down the street
unknowing of the danger behind it
a beast of American metal and lightning
The driver realizes he is in danger in his commie-fornia shoebox
He presses the pussy pedal as hard as he can
It cannot save him, he can hear the music already
"THIS IS GAWWWWWD'S COUNTRRRRRYYYYYYY"
He realizes he is already dead
In an instant he becomes like a fly in the grill of a truck
In the grill of the Ford F-150 EV
It stops for no one
the year is 2021
A tesla drives down the street
unknowing of the danger behind it
a beast of American metal and lightning
The driver realizes he is in danger in his commie-fornia shoebox
He presses the pussy pedal as hard as he can
It cannot save him, he can hear the music already
"THIS IS GAWWWWWD'S COUNTRRRRRYYYYYYY"
He realizes he is already dead
In an instant he becomes like a fly in the grill of a truck
In the grill of the Ford F-150 EV
It stops for no one
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.”
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.”
Christmas for a wsb trader
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.