So the wife and I were getting into it and she told me to talk dirty to her. So I called her a filthy slut.
She said “dirtier!” So I smacked her around and told her I was going to use her like the cheap whore she is.
She said “dirtier!” So I said “I’m gonna stick some SQQQ in your portfolio. I’m gonna put it in long and deep. I’m gonna fill you up with way OTM SPY puts.”
She then slapped me, packed a bag and took the kids. I think we’re getting a divorce.
I used to be a real ad
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
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.
WallStreetBets
Google employees complaints
Reading Google employees complaints about workplace is like watching Becky cry on social media how her life's ruined when she only got a new Hyundai for graduation instead of the audi she asked.
Bitch give me that 300k job and I will deal with "my voice not being heard" all day every day.
WallStreetBets
NOT. SELLING. GAMESTOP.
🦍 🍌 🦍 🍌 🦍 🍌 🦍 🍌 🦍 🍌 🦍 🍌
NOT. FUCKING. SELLING.
🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀
NOT PRESSING “SELL” ON 1. FUCKING. SHARE.
💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚
I’LL GO TO $0.00 BEFORE BILLIONAIRES GET ONE MORE PENNY FROM US.
🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀
CAN’T STOP. WON’T STOP. GAMESTOP.
💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚
TOMORROW, I THINK I’LL BE HOLDING THE LINE. MAYBE MAKE SOME TENDIES, TOO.
🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀
I’LL SEE EVERY ONE OF YOU BEAUTIFUL APES ON PLUTO SOON, AND IT’S GOING TO JUST BE A SEA OF SPARKLING DIAMOND.
💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚 💎 🤚
I LOVE YOU, ALL, AND I’M NOT SELLING, AND I’M NOT FUCKING LEAVING. NOT ONE. FUCKING. SHARE!!!
🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀 🚀
WallStreetBets
GME revamp
GME should keep their retail stores but make it more of an experience like Hooters. Workers should be hot big tiddy goth girls or whatever other fetish gamers have. Bonuses if they have active social media (Instagram, Tik Tok, Only Fans, etc.) and extra bonus if they also stream on Twitch. 100% guaranteed increase traffic and sales in stores (simp farms). Literally cannot go tits up.
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.