[Copypasta] 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.
February 2021

WallStreetBets

https://www.reddit.com/r/wallstreetbetsOGs/comments/lp6i1r/what_are_your_moves_tomorrow_february_22_2021/gob8p5c/
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You toss and turn as Elon gently rubs your shoulders

You toss and turn as Elon gently rubs your shoulders. "You seem a little tense" says Elon, as you look at your bank account. Your phone shows $107 left to your name. You think to yourself while Elon rubs you down, you pull open Robin Hood, type in TSLA. Leaps $900 JAN 2023' are only $1 you can afford 1 leap. This is finally your chance to get rich, you'll be able to actually buy a Tesla. You ask Elon what the next Tesla will be. He says "U, for 'you'" as he smiles sweetly. You picture him dancing on stage explaining U S3XY to everyone multiple times as you smile back at him. All of a sudden Elon flips on the TV to CNBC to catch the tail end of Jim Cramer, you see a new law has been passed, "we believe options have inflated the markets into a bubble, we will be imposing a new rule next week only allowing accounts that qualify for day trades to also purchase options with a $25,000 barrier to entry." You start weeping aloud, you feel a caring hand wipe your tear away, it's Elon again, "what's wrong my little X'√π3?" Suddenly you wake, you're in a pool of sweat, at first you panic about the new options policy, then you're filled with relief realizing that options aren't restricted it was all a dream. You realize this was actually a vision to earn 200,000% gains to buy a TSLA leap. You log into RH, it welcomes you with your $107 balance, you plug in TSLA yolo 2023 @ $900 and realize the options are actually $20 each. The best you can do is $900 TSLA weekly expiring around Christmas. In a slight fit of despair you try to remember the feeling of Elon rubbing your cheek, and rub one out onto your stomach, then roll over back to sleep. A single tear rolls from your eye into your waifu pillow. YOLO you whisper.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

Daily WSB trader routine

1. Wake up 2. Check memfolio, buy more PLTR calls 3. Shit while looking at charts, don’t wipe 4. Fomo and buy the top 5. Watch stock Plummet 6. Sell, watch stock go up 7. Go to WSB and downvote everything 8. Jerk off, nut, realize how empty you are 9. Stare at futures for 3 hours 10. Sleep & repeat
December 2020

WallStreetBets

I'm actually a pretty advanced bait station designer

I'm actually a pretty advanced bait station designer. While my formal education is a bit lacking, my cad and computer animation skills are really good, and I have some truly paradigm shifting ideas for bait stations, both vr and non vr. currently in the beginning stages of seeking VC funds, really trying to move my operation from San Antonio to Austin, a second location could triple my revenue right now. Obviously right now all our orders are high end custom stations, way out of reach for the avg wsb user. Its my dream to one day be able to produce real bait stations in a production environment. Right now my company is in talks with several engineering firms out of Seoul to take our cum recycling system and some how use the energy from the spent cum to recharge the batteries. While the technology is new. It has huge applications. Imagine when you go to charge your tsla, its powered completely by cum. No longer must we let our nonbiological female prostitutes flush our GOLD down the toilet post coitus, that shit is going to drive our new society. The money we save as a society on sock costs alone is tremendous.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

GME stock and WSB vs short sellers

Let me tell you what happens tomorrow because it's even worse than what happened today. There they are, Melvin Capital. Furiously jerking their 2 inch boomer cocks to their GME short gainz. They are so close, edging themselves with "Oh yeah, the next Blockbuster" and "Yes baby, brick and mortar go bye-bye." They even sit in a circle sucking and jerking each other off, double fisting like they're skiing down Mt. Everest with cocks instead of poles. Out of nowhere, Ryan Cohen steps in with the most massive and vieniest schlong they've ever seen. He starts eating their lunch and muttering about Cheey for games and they can't do anything because their engorged penises are stuck in eachothers mouths and poop chutes. They attempt to ignorr him and try to keep jerking but they accidentally used hand sanitizer instead of lotion. BAM GME starts rising from the ashes and the retards of WSB are lighting the fires. We brought lighters that we borrowed from our wives boyfriend's and they weren't those shitty clear one. We have motherfucking Bics and torches. Melvin is crying and pleading but we are too retarded to understand coherent English. They see giant red dildos on their screens and their buttholes begin to pucker. They dump everything they have at us in an attempt to supress the price but again, we only understand broken english and emojis. We only understand basic visuals and colors. When we see green, we buy. When we see red, we take out another student loan or CC cash advance and we buy more. We are fucking unstoppable. GME skyrockets and they start scrambling to pull dicks out of random orifices, but it's too late. Bears R Fuk. After we are done splooging all over their faces, and becoming their wife's new boyfriends, we throw Melvin and BOA on the chopping block to be liquidated and disposed of. That's what happens tomorrow, and we are gonna turn that shit into a movie.
December 2020

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.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

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