[Copypasta] A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant

A man orders bat at his favorite restaurant. 3 years later, NFLX fucking tanks 20% after earnings.
January 2022

WallStreetBets

What happened to this ad? :(
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Mitch is the type of dude who...

Mitch McConnell shaves his face with the same razor he shaves his nuts and butt hole Mitch the type of guy to put on sunglasses to get another free sample at Costco Mitch the type of guy that says "you too" when the waitress tells him to enjoy his meal. Mitch the kinda guy to leave “smile more” on the tip section of a receipt Mitch is the type of dude who says "Ni Hao" to the waiter at a Thai restaurant Mitch the type of guy to shower then shit Mitch McConnell claps when the plane lands Mitch is the type of dude who thinks crest toothpaste is spicy Mitch the kind of guy that uses self checkout with a full cart.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

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

WallStreetBets

a tesla drives down the street in 2021

the year is 2021 A tesla drives down the street unknowing of the danger behind it a beast of American metal and lightning The driver realizes he is in danger in his commie-fornia shoebox He presses the pussy pedal as hard as he can It cannot save him, he can hear the music already "THIS IS GAWWWWWD'S COUNTRRRRRYYYYYYY" He realizes he is already dead In an instant he becomes like a fly in the grill of a truck In the grill of the Ford F-150 EV It stops for no one
December 2020

WallStreetBets

I challenge you to “Turtle King”

Before my ban, someone challenged me to a duel with cocks. I challenge you to “Turtle King” instead. We each dock our unhardened cocks into each other, then we put on clips of Yellen speaking during FOMC meetings. The first to effectively go from flaccid to erect and push the other out of the “dock” is crowned Turtle 🤴. Dual me, I’m 4-0.
October 2021

WallStreetBets

Bear King Burry vs TSLA

Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly. "The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee. TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair. Bear King Burry turns to the crowd "Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?" A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries. On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time. "Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..." Bear King Burry turns to WSB "Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch." "Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want." A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring. "And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously. BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends. "Who am I?" the robed figure inquires. The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall. The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence. "Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly. The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature. The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes. "I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
December 2020

WallStreetBets

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