Graham Stephen is a real estate YouTuber known for his normie audience and stinginess: https://www.reddit.com/r/wallstreetbets/comments/klyw9y/what_are_your_moves_tomorrow_december_29_2020/ghd1spt/
The year is 2025. House speaker Nancy pelosi's brain jar has agreed with Mitch McConnell's new human skinbody to vote on the $12 covid stimulus package. This is the 37th revision to the package initially introduced in late 2020. One dollar will be split between all americans, two between all illegal immigrants, and the rest to Jeff bezos. Due to stimulus hopes, SPY has rallied to 600.
The year is 2025. House speaker Nancy pelosi's brain jar has agreed with Mitch McConnell's new human skinbody to vote on the $12 covid stimulus package. This is the 37th revision to the package initially introduced in late 2020. One dollar will be split between all americans, two between all illegal immigrants, and the rest to Jeff bezos. Due to stimulus hopes, SPY has rallied to 600.
It’s nighttime so of course solar energy stocks would be weak as fuck. Wait til morning when the sun rises & pumps them
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.