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
What happened to this ad? :(
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
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".
WallStreetBets
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.
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Unrealized losses
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. “What?” you ask absentmindedly. You’re looking at Futures, and you’re surprised to see them red.
“I want you to play with me.” She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isn’t 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, “I want to do that more.”
But you’ve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. “Uh huh,” you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you don’t realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you don’t say a word because you don’t notice.
She hasn’t left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
WallStreetBets
The real power of compounding
Remember, if you lose 10% a day over several days you’re actually losing less money as time passes. This is what people mean when they talk about the power of compounding
WallStreetBets
Wallstreetbet's Christmas break
Gonna be checking the market every chance I get while pretending to think my brother-in-law's Cards Against Humanity answers are funny.