I don’t care if there’s a microchip in the vaccine. I’d let them put a whole MacBook Pro inside of me if it meant I could get drunk at Applebees again
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More WallStreetBets Copypastas
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.
WallStreetBets
Little dribble drop
You guys ever like hustle your pee too quickly and pull your dick in faster than you’re done shaking? Then you have that little dribble drop that goes onto your leg. It’s only a drop. But you fucking feel it. Sprawling down your thigh. Making its presence known and ruining whatever plans you just had.
Just happened. The fucking worst.
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
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
Police clearing out a homeless encampment
On my way into the office today I saw the police clearing out a homeless encampment under a bridge, forcing them into the cold and rain. I keep playing it over in my head and haven’t been able to focus on work all day because of my erection.