when i was like 12 my neighbor invited me over and we played a game called “doctor” basically he took his pants off got fully erect and asked me to examine it. don’t even remember what happened after that. anyways BFT to the moon
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If PLTR hits 35 today
If PLTR hits 35 today I will wipe with quarter ply toilet paper and accidentally discover myself
WallStreetBets
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
I want JPow to use his full range of tools on me 😫
I want JPow to use his full range of tools on me 😫
WallStreetBets
bears are always fucked
Last week I went to go outside for a smoke and this other guy was there smoking as well. We got to talking and the talk of options trading came up. I accidentally slipped that I had bought a SPY put to hedge my portfolio. He immediately gets excited takes off his pants and bends over. Didn't realize he was a 🌈🐻 this whole time. Ofcourse I obliged cause bers r always fukkd
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.