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.
I used to be a real ad
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
Kelly Loeffler after Georgia senate election
Kelly Loeffler I know you're at home right now feeling a little sad. And now you're in bed browsing WSB looking for hot stock tips with maybe a few laughs. But just know this: I will have sex with you. DM me.
WallStreetBets
My wife told me to talk dirty to her
So the wife and I were getting into it and she told me to talk dirty to her. So I called her a filthy slut.
She said “dirtier!” So I smacked her around and told her I was going to use her like the cheap whore she is.
She said “dirtier!” So I said “I’m gonna stick some SQQQ in your portfolio. I’m gonna put it in long and deep. I’m gonna fill you up with way OTM SPY puts.”
She then slapped me, packed a bag and took the kids. I think we’re getting a divorce.
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.
WallStreetBets
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
WallStreetBets
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.