[Copypasta] My wife told me to talk dirty to her

So the wife and I were getting into it and she told me to talk dirty to her. So I called her a filthy slut. She said “dirtier!” So I smacked her around and told her I was going to use her like the cheap whore she is. She said “dirtier!” So I said “I’m gonna stick some SQQQ in your portfolio. I’m gonna put it in long and deep. I’m gonna fill you up with way OTM SPY puts.” She then slapped me, packed a bag and took the kids. I think we’re getting a divorce.
April 2021

WallStreetBets

(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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game of doctor

when i was like 12 my neighbor invited me over and we played a game called “doctor” basically he took his pants off got fully erect and asked me to examine it. don’t even remember what happened after that. anyways BFT to the moon
January 2021

WallStreetBets

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.
January 2021

Classic

WallStreetBets

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.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

I want JPow to use his full range of tools on me 😫

I want JPow to use his full range of tools on me 😫
December 2020

WallStreetBets

The Battle of Gamestop rages on.

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.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

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