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[Copypasta]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.
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.
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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Am I the asshole for dropping my 6 year old son at an orphanage for his inability to trade options?
This started about 4 years ago when my son was 2 years old. I started to supplement his picture books and cartoons with beginner options books and Martin Shkerli's live videos on how to pick pharmaceutical stocks. Over the course of these years I feel like he has retained absolutely nothing even though I have spent every waking minute trying to make him understand. I have done almost everything that I have thought of including having Jerome Powell's speeches play while he is sleeping and only having Warren Buffet on the TV to try and make him understand the market. I felt as though I got to a breaking point when he couldn't differentiate between a straddle and a strangle even though we we went through different strategies for almost a month straight. I finally convinced my wife that we were doing the right thing when I said that he will soon be a Wendy's worker begging his wife's husband for a weekly allowance because he will never amount to be anything. I couldn't fathom raising a kid who was not able to able to make a profit from trading options by the time he was 10. With all that said if anyone wants a 6 year old child who is shitty at market strategy check out Eternal Sunny Orphanage in Omaha, Nebraska and maybe your luck will be better than mine with him.
This started about 4 years ago when my son was 2 years old. I started to supplement his picture books and cartoons with beginner options books and Martin Shkerli's live videos on how to pick pharmaceutical stocks. Over the course of these years I feel like he has retained absolutely nothing even though I have spent every waking minute trying to make him understand. I have done almost everything that I have thought of including having Jerome Powell's speeches play while he is sleeping and only having Warren Buffet on the TV to try and make him understand the market. I felt as though I got to a breaking point when he couldn't differentiate between a straddle and a strangle even though we we went through different strategies for almost a month straight. I finally convinced my wife that we were doing the right thing when I said that he will soon be a Wendy's worker begging his wife's husband for a weekly allowance because he will never amount to be anything. I couldn't fathom raising a kid who was not able to able to make a profit from trading options by the time he was 10. With all that said if anyone wants a 6 year old child who is shitty at market strategy check out Eternal Sunny Orphanage in Omaha, Nebraska and maybe your luck will be better than mine with him.
I’m a simple guy
I’m a simple guy. I don’t know about all these fancy “financial instruments” or “market dynamics” or “where the clit is.”
I like the stock, I buy the stock.
I’m a simple guy. I don’t know about all these fancy “financial instruments” or “market dynamics” or “where the clit is.”
I like the stock, I buy the stock.
Bear King Burry vs TSLA
Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly.
"The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee.
TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair.
Bear King Burry turns to the crowd
"Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?"
A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries.
On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time.
"Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..."
Bear King Burry turns to WSB
"Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch."
"Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want."
A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring.
"And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously.
BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends.
"Who am I?" the robed figure inquires.
The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall.
The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence.
"Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly.
The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature.
The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes.
"I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly.
"The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee.
TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair.
Bear King Burry turns to the crowd
"Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?"
A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries.
On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time.
"Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..."
Bear King Burry turns to WSB
"Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch."
"Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want."
A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring.
"And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously.
BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends.
"Who am I?" the robed figure inquires.
The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall.
The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence.
"Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly.
The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature.
The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes.
"I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
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.
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.
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.