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Is that insider trading?
If you're a passenger on a newly recertified 737MAX and it starts to nosedive into the sea so you buy shitloads of BA puts over WiFi before impact, is that insider trading?
If you're a passenger on a newly recertified 737MAX and it starts to nosedive into the sea so you buy shitloads of BA puts over WiFi before impact, is that insider trading?
Bears after a green day
Itβs 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelinaβs frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their fatherβs basement, grab the keys to their tan β97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word βVOTE,β and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
Itβs 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelinaβs frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their fatherβs basement, grab the keys to their tan β97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word βVOTE,β and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. βWhat?β you ask absentmindedly. Youβre looking at Futures, and youβre surprised to see them red.
βI want you to play with me.β She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isnβt totally aloof realizes she said this in earnest. And so you do. You throw your phone, and you pin her to the sofa, then the ground. You both roll about, wrestling, like lion cubs. Kissing, lightly biting. Sometime later, you both stop, breathing hard. She grabs an open bottle of red wine, and you pass it back and forth. Eventually she says, βI want to do that more.β
But youβve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. βUh huh,β you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you donβt realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you donβt say a word because you donβt notice.
She hasnβt left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. βWhat?β you ask absentmindedly. Youβre looking at Futures, and youβre surprised to see them red.
βI want you to play with me.β She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isnβt totally aloof realizes she said this in earnest. And so you do. You throw your phone, and you pin her to the sofa, then the ground. You both roll about, wrestling, like lion cubs. Kissing, lightly biting. Sometime later, you both stop, breathing hard. She grabs an open bottle of red wine, and you pass it back and forth. Eventually she says, βI want to do that more.β
But youβve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. βUh huh,β you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you donβt realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you donβt say a word because you donβt notice.
She hasnβt left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.
