[Copypasta] 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.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

I used to be a real ad
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Am I the asshole for dropping my 6 year old son at an orphanage for his inability to trade options?

This started about 4 years ago when my son was 2 years old. I started to supplement his picture books and cartoons with beginner options books and Martin Shkerli's live videos on how to pick pharmaceutical stocks. Over the course of these years I feel like he has retained absolutely nothing even though I have spent every waking minute trying to make him understand. I have done almost everything that I have thought of including having Jerome Powell's speeches play while he is sleeping and only having Warren Buffet on the TV to try and make him understand the market. I felt as though I got to a breaking point when he couldn't differentiate between a straddle and a strangle even though we we went through different strategies for almost a month straight. I finally convinced my wife that we were doing the right thing when I said that he will soon be a Wendy's worker begging his wife's husband for a weekly allowance because he will never amount to be anything. I couldn't fathom raising a kid who was not able to able to make a profit from trading options by the time he was 10. With all that said if anyone wants a 6 year old child who is shitty at market strategy check out Eternal Sunny Orphanage in Omaha, Nebraska and maybe your luck will be better than mine with him.
September 2021

Am I The Asshole?

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Little dribble drop

You guys ever like hustle your pee too quickly and pull your dick in faster than you’re done shaking? Then you have that little dribble drop that goes onto your leg. It’s only a drop. But you fucking feel it. Sprawling down your thigh. Making its presence known and ruining whatever plans you just had. Just happened. The fucking worst.
April 2021

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Bullish market makes me hard

When the stocks 📊📝 go up 📈💸, my dick goes too 🍆⬆️😳. Bullish 🐂 market 🏬 makes me hard 🦴💦. All the countries 🏳️🏴🏴‍☠️🏁🚩🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🇺🇳 try to recover 🔄 from corona 🦠 so the money 💰💵💸 flows 🌬 into my pocket 💳. Soon 🔜 there will be a crash 📉😭🥺😖 and the bears 🐻 will crawl 🚼 out of their holes 🕳. Then they cut off my greedy dick ✂️🍆🩸 if I don’t ❌ eat ’em out 👅😸. I must turn into a bear 🐂➡️🐻 and make 🤌🏼 more money 💰💵💸 and eat some honey 🐻🍯. When I’m done ✅ I’ll throw a party 🎉🍷🍾 and eat your ass 👅🍑.
October 2021

Emoji Pasta

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Stock space rocket

.           ✦             ˚              *                       .              .            ✦              ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍                  ,       .             .   ゚      .             .       ,       .                                  ☀️                                                        .           .             .                                                                                        ✦       ,          [stock ticker]🚀        ,    ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍               .            .                                             ˚            ,                                       .                      .             .               *            ✦                                               .                  .           .        .     🌑              .           .              ˚                     ゚     .               .      🌎 ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ,                * .                    .           ✦             ˚              *                        .
January 2021

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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.
December 2020

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