I just figured out why they call them ‘Brokers’
What happened to this ad? :(
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
The Battle of Gamestop rages on.
Pre-market we could hear the bears in no-man’s land, baiting us towards higher prices so the shorts could do their dirty work. I was stationed at the 13.80 line, and knew the morning was going to be hot. I shoveled a breakfast of tendies and said a quick prayer to Father Cohen.
When the bell rang, the bears surged into our trenches. Blood and rainbow fur filled the air and littered the ground. The Diamond Division has seen worse days, and we held firm. As the bears retreated we gave chase to retake ground we’d lost in the past week.
As I caught my breath near the 14.50, I could see bodies everywhere; paper hands who had fallen in earlier battles. One of them groaned and reached a hand towards me. I spat on him and kept moving. No honor in retreat, and no sympathy for self-inflicted wounds.
This war won’t be won in a day, but it will be won. Tell my wife’s boyfriend to tell her I love her.
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
Drunk at Applebees
I don’t care if there’s a microchip in the vaccine. I’d let them put a whole MacBook Pro inside of me if it meant I could get drunk at Applebees again
WallStreetBets
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.
WallStreetBets
Unrealized losses
She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. “What?” you ask absentmindedly. You’re looking at Futures, and you’re surprised to see them red.
“I want you to play with me.” She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isn’t 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, “I want to do that more.”
But you’ve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. “Uh huh,” you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you don’t realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you don’t say a word because you don’t notice.
She hasn’t left you yet, but she will soon.
Unrealized losses.