Choose your fighter
Alex Magikarp 🐟
Elon TechnoCuckLord 🤖+🤴
Jeff Divorcedzos 💔
Salmonella 🐔 Nutella 🍫
Bill "HELL Giga GUH is coming" Clownman 🤡
Chamath, "I'm abouta fuck shit up" Papaya 🍈
Ryan Cocken your butthole 🥒💦 👉👌😳
🥒 Z 🥒 U 🥒 C 🥒 C 🥒
Tim 🍎 Bottom 🅱️ENIS
Jack Ma MIA 🤷♂️
Cathie "A prayer a day keeps the 🐻s' away" or "Jesus, take my buying power" Woods 🙏✝️
Choose your fighter
Alex Magikarp 🐟
Elon TechnoCuckLord 🤖+🤴
Jeff Divorcedzos 💔
Salmonella 🐔 Nutella 🍫
Bill "HELL Giga GUH is coming" Clownman 🤡
Chamath, "I'm abouta fuck shit up" Papaya 🍈
Ryan Cocken your butthole 🥒💦 👉👌😳
🥒 Z 🥒 U 🥒 C 🥒 C 🥒
Tim 🍎 Bottom 🅱️ENIS
Jack Ma MIA 🤷♂️
Cathie "A prayer a day keeps the 🐻s' away" or "Jesus, take my buying power" Woods 🙏✝️
Anyone basing trades right now on fundamentals is a fucking tool
So many arrogant fucks here love talking fundamental analysis when they can't even tell me if lil’ Yachty got another Ferrari much less how stuffed the fucking Oreos are now. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a valuation multiple you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not, you deserve CHGG.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade gourd futures you know about and feel with your hands that it hasn't been spotted by any number of fungal pathogens in the complex ecology of modern supply chains. Or alternatively manipulate markets like the rich investors who funnel you into silver every fucking time like clockwork. Warren Buffet's dad was Paul Revere, if you think that shit didn't help The Wizard of Omaha then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about EBITDA and long term debt-to-equity ratios. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in r/lounge with a fat chick, not on wsb posting "anyone basing trades right now on technical analysis is fucking tool.”
So many arrogant fucks here love talking fundamental analysis when they can't even tell me if lil’ Yachty got another Ferrari much less how stuffed the fucking Oreos are now. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a valuation multiple you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not, you deserve CHGG.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade gourd futures you know about and feel with your hands that it hasn't been spotted by any number of fungal pathogens in the complex ecology of modern supply chains. Or alternatively manipulate markets like the rich investors who funnel you into silver every fucking time like clockwork. Warren Buffet's dad was Paul Revere, if you think that shit didn't help The Wizard of Omaha then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about EBITDA and long term debt-to-equity ratios. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in r/lounge with a fat chick, not on wsb posting "anyone basing trades right now on technical analysis is fucking tool.”
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
I couldn’t tell you what half of the companies in my portfolio do or even what the ticker stands for...but you better believe I’m jacked to the mf’ing tits in every single meme stonk that you crayon eaters have been pumping. CHOO CHOO MF’ER.
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.
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.