I can't believe that after fifteen years of trading, my best trade of all time is going to be buying calls on fucking Gamestop.
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.
Little dribble drop
You guys ever like hustle your pee too quickly and pull your dick in faster than you’re done shaking? Then you have that little dribble drop that goes onto your leg. It’s only a drop. But you fucking feel it. Sprawling down your thigh. Making its presence known and ruining whatever plans you just had.
Just happened. The fucking worst.
You guys ever like hustle your pee too quickly and pull your dick in faster than you’re done shaking? Then you have that little dribble drop that goes onto your leg. It’s only a drop. But you fucking feel it. Sprawling down your thigh. Making its presence known and ruining whatever plans you just had.
Just happened. The fucking worst.
Red futures :(
Bought a bunch of calls thinking I was going to be able to afford an escort to shit on my chest, now it's these red futures that are shitting on my chest.
Bought a bunch of calls thinking I was going to be able to afford an escort to shit on my chest, now it's these red futures that are shitting on my chest.
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.
What happened to this ad? :(