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.
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.
A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant
A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant.
3 years later,
NFLX fucking tanks 20% after earnings.
A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant.
3 years later,
NFLX fucking tanks 20% after earnings.
We should buy Reddit
We should buy Reddit.
Not the stock. The actual company.
If we all get together and own 51% then we will own this entire website.
We could make the rules, profit from the advertising, and finally get paid for the memes we make.
I've even come up with a list of things we could do as new owners:
Reddit mods can apply for paid-internships at Reddit. This is much closer to having a real job than what they currently do and would benefit the organization.
Your flair is your official title at the company. IE: instead of "CFO" you'll be "PotatoFart"
NSFW posts will receive special protections--and if you happen to work in our new skyscraper then NSFW posts are automatically considered SFW.
Everyone gets a turn in the corporate jet.
Elon becomes a mod. He can also apply to become a paid intern.
We have a monthly party on our company yacht: The S.S. VisualMod.
Our corporate cafeteria is a dining hall with fast food restaurants along the side--but they're all Wendy's.
I think this is a great idea.
Keep it high and tight.
👖🚀👖🚀👖🚀
We should buy Reddit.
Not the stock. The actual company.
If we all get together and own 51% then we will own this entire website.
We could make the rules, profit from the advertising, and finally get paid for the memes we make.
I've even come up with a list of things we could do as new owners:
Reddit mods can apply for paid-internships at Reddit. This is much closer to having a real job than what they currently do and would benefit the organization.
Your flair is your official title at the company. IE: instead of "CFO" you'll be "PotatoFart"
NSFW posts will receive special protections--and if you happen to work in our new skyscraper then NSFW posts are automatically considered SFW.
Everyone gets a turn in the corporate jet.
Elon becomes a mod. He can also apply to become a paid intern.
We have a monthly party on our company yacht: The S.S. VisualMod.
Our corporate cafeteria is a dining hall with fast food restaurants along the side--but they're all Wendy's.
I think this is a great idea.
Keep it high and tight.
👖🚀👖🚀👖🚀
Daily stock prayer
Time for our daily prayer:
Our calls, Who art in PLTR,
Perfect be Thy Timing.
Thy tendies come.
Thy expirations be done,
on earth as it is in Wall Street.
Give us this day our daily Lambos.
And forgive us of our puts,
as we forgive those who buy puts against us.
And lead us not into Debt,
but deliver us unto tendies. Amen
Time for our daily prayer:
Our calls, Who art in PLTR,
Perfect be Thy Timing.
Thy tendies come.
Thy expirations be done,
on earth as it is in Wall Street.
Give us this day our daily Lambos.
And forgive us of our puts,
as we forgive those who buy puts against us.
And lead us not into Debt,
but deliver us unto tendies. Amen
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.
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.
I used to be a real ad