I can't believe that after fifteen years of trading, my best trade of all time is going to be buying calls on fucking Gamestop.
bears are always fucked
Last week I went to go outside for a smoke and this other guy was there smoking as well. We got to talking and the talk of options trading came up. I accidentally slipped that I had bought a SPY put to hedge my portfolio. He immediately gets excited takes off his pants and bends over. Didn't realize he was a 🌈🐻 this whole time. Ofcourse I obliged cause bers r always fukkd
Last week I went to go outside for a smoke and this other guy was there smoking as well. We got to talking and the talk of options trading came up. I accidentally slipped that I had bought a SPY put to hedge my portfolio. He immediately gets excited takes off his pants and bends over. Didn't realize he was a 🌈🐻 this whole time. Ofcourse I obliged cause bers r always fukkd
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.
Bears after a green day
It’s 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelina’s frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their father’s basement, grab the keys to their tan ‘97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word “VOTE,” and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
It’s 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelina’s frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their father’s basement, grab the keys to their tan ‘97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word “VOTE,” and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
Drunk at Applebees
I don’t care if there’s a microchip in the vaccine. I’d let them put a whole MacBook Pro inside of me if it meant I could get drunk at Applebees again