how you’re fiduciarily fucked 💣💥🖕🥺✨

hiiiiiii

so just circling back
with the verbatim transcript
of the thing you swore
maybe
didn’t exist 🕊️
and also reminder
you’ve had this screenshot
since summer 2025 💕

—

fuckkkkkkk

😇💣

baby!!!!

i didn’t walk in asking for vibes.
i walked in asking for help.

🙃👍

not “can you recommend a podcast.”
not “what’s a roth, king.”

nah!

nope.

🙏🕊️

i said—
on the record,
in plain goddamn english—

i have a traditional ira.
i’ve been paying into it since i was twenty-six.
i don’t understand the mechanics.
i’m not pretending to.
i want you to help me transfer it.
to your company.
and manage it.

🚗💨🍆

AND BABY,
SHE ACCEPTED.

awwww.
honey!

that’s not flirting.
that’s not chit-chat.
that’s me
being a dumb little girl
asking a fiduciary
for help.

that’s entrustment,
sweetie!!!

🖕🥺✨

and a lack of record-keeping??!?!

uh oh!

🐂💩🤥

FINRA??!??.

…

and i told you,
…………..she deleted it.

and you
already disclosed

you
have
ZERO GODDAMN RECORDS BABY.

✍️✨🫣🤫🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

fucking

yiiiiiiiiiiiikes.

—

no but like…
that’s literally me saying:

“i have a long-term financial asset.
i lack expertise.
i’m relying on you to guide me.”

🖕😇

which—awkward—
is literally how fiduciary relationships are born. 💀⚰️

—

shit hun.

because
here’s the thing
you don’t get to un-say later:

when someone discloses

✨ the existence of an investment account
✨ the duration of contributions
✨ their lack of sophistication
✨ and explicitly asks you to manage or transfer it

dang yo!
you don’t get to
pop up later like:

“ummm actually we had no duty 🥺👉👈”

—

no, baby.

🙈🤷‍♂️💥

this wasn’t “general information.”

this was
🔥 personal
🔥 financial
🔥 reliance,
served motherfucking hot.

—

and y’all are fiduciarily cooked.

🥀💀

rip to the hypothetical defense.
you tried,
like…really hard.

xoxo