Oh my gourd, I am financially ruined (agricultural futures)
I have lost everything, and I'm not sure how to continue. This summer I invested $17,500 (six months salary and my entire life savings) into ornamental gourd futures, hoping to capitalize on this lucrative emerging industry. After watching a video about Vincent Kosuga and his monopoly on onions, I decided I'd try to do something similar with another vegetable. I did some research and found out many agricultural forecasters expected this year's gourd yield would be far smaller than the past, due to deteriorating soil conditions in central Mexico and a warmer-than-average spring. At first, demand soared around Halloween and prices skyrocketed, but the gourd bubble burst on November 12th. Unfortunately, the coronavirus caused a massive drop-off in demand due to fewer families decorating their tables for thanksgiving, and prices plummeted. I had invested early enough that I thought I would still be fine, but then on the morning of December 2nd, a new email in my inbox caused my stomach to turn into a pretzel. The massive gourd shipment from Argentina, scheduled for early March, had arrived. I was planning on selling off my futures right before this, in February, but this ruined everything. To top it off, the gourds in this shipment were absolutely gargantuan, some topping 4 pounds each, causing the price-per-pound to drop like an anchor into the range of 6 cents per pound. I am ruined.
I have lost everything, and I'm not sure how to continue. This summer I invested $17,500 (six months salary and my entire life savings) into ornamental gourd futures, hoping to capitalize on this lucrative emerging industry. After watching a video about Vincent Kosuga and his monopoly on onions, I decided I'd try to do something similar with another vegetable. I did some research and found out many agricultural forecasters expected this year's gourd yield would be far smaller than the past, due to deteriorating soil conditions in central Mexico and a warmer-than-average spring. At first, demand soared around Halloween and prices skyrocketed, but the gourd bubble burst on November 12th. Unfortunately, the coronavirus caused a massive drop-off in demand due to fewer families decorating their tables for thanksgiving, and prices plummeted. I had invested early enough that I thought I would still be fine, but then on the morning of December 2nd, a new email in my inbox caused my stomach to turn into a pretzel. The massive gourd shipment from Argentina, scheduled for early March, had arrived. I was planning on selling off my futures right before this, in February, but this ruined everything. To top it off, the gourds in this shipment were absolutely gargantuan, some topping 4 pounds each, causing the price-per-pound to drop like an anchor into the range of 6 cents per pound. I am ruined.
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.
âAre you coming to bed?â your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. Youâll stop soon, though. âSoon!â 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 haltâthe alternation feature brokenâon red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like theyâre bleeding. Like your calls.
After a timeâhours?âyou realize youâre 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.
âAre you coming to bed?â your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. Youâll stop soon, though. âSoon!â 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 haltâthe alternation feature brokenâon red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like theyâre bleeding. Like your calls.
After a timeâhours?âyou realize youâre sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
game of doctor
when i was like 12 my neighbor invited me over and we played a game called âdoctorâ basically he took his pants off got fully erect and asked me to examine it. donât even remember what happened after that. anyways BFT to the moon
when i was like 12 my neighbor invited me over and we played a game called âdoctorâ basically he took his pants off got fully erect and asked me to examine it. donât even remember what happened after that. anyways BFT to the moon
Anyone basing trades on technical analysis right now is a fucking tool
So many arrogant fucks here love talking technical analysis when they can't even do basic fraction arithmetic much less understand Ito Calculus. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a number you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not you deserve losing all and hanging yourself.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade shit you know about and feel still hasn't been spotted by the bandwagon of smooth brains on subreddits like this one or r/stocks . Or alternatively manipulate the market like the rich investors you look up to do. Warren Buffet's dad was a politician, if you think that shit didn't help that fat fuck then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about volatility and RSI. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in Hawaii with a fat titty chick not on Reddit posting "technical analysis".
So many arrogant fucks here love talking technical analysis when they can't even do basic fraction arithmetic much less understand Ito Calculus. Fucking clowns, all of them.
Shut the fuck up and do your trades. If you really need a number you can't even derive to tell you whether you should buy a stock or not you deserve losing all and hanging yourself.
Newsflash, the stock market never made sense nor will it. Best you can do is trade shit you know about and feel still hasn't been spotted by the bandwagon of smooth brains on subreddits like this one or r/stocks . Or alternatively manipulate the market like the rich investors you look up to do. Warren Buffet's dad was a politician, if you think that shit didn't help that fat fuck then not only are you retarded but also delusional.
Now stfu about volatility and RSI. If you actually knew what the fuck was going to happen you'd be chilling in Hawaii with a fat titty chick not on Reddit posting "technical analysis".
Stonks only go up. But you don't.
You watch her as she brushes her hair. Sheâs humming a song you canât quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. âWhat do you want for Christmas?â You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. âNothing, really.â
âNothing?â She crawls into bed and touches your leg. âAre you sure?â Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. Theyâll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, âWhatâs wrong?â
Stonks only go up.
But you donât.
You watch her as she brushes her hair. Sheâs humming a song you canât quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. âWhat do you want for Christmas?â You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. âNothing, really.â
âNothing?â She crawls into bed and touches your leg. âAre you sure?â Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. Theyâll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, âWhatâs wrong?â
Stonks only go up.
But you donât.
I used to be a real ad