Gaze, my brothers, upon this testament to feeble-minded self delusion, and laugh. Laugh! Look upon the irreconcilable madness and self-deception oozing from every single pore of the loonatic baggie as he clutches his worthless prize and screams into the void: "BURN IT!"
"BURNT IT ALL!", he cries, while desperately refreshing CoinMarketCap.
Is he not loathsome? Does not he provoke pity and contempt? Who upon this entire planet is his equal in sheer hubris? For who but a wretch would find sustenance slurping on the financial detritus of greater men? His fantasies of 'making it' are matched only by the heights of greed swirling within the demented psyche of this self-professed 'Lunatic'. He sheds profit like heat off a sun-baked rock, the promise of an untapped FOMO run making him buy high and sell low…
"STACKLETS, ALL OF YOU!" he roars in outrage. "I'VE GOT 50 MILLION LUNA READY TO GO! $100 EOY!"
Madness floods his blood-crazed eyes as he clutches his unwashed robes about him. But his tragedy is *much* deeper, for his is a disease of the *soul* - an envy that eats at him from within, even as she hurls empty threats at a framed picture of Great Leader Do Kwon… "DON'T YOU *DARE* FORK, YOU SLANT-EYED FUCK!"
He stares at the red candles dancing across his monitor, his dreams hinging on a re-pegg that never comes… the crimson flicker illuminating a tiny basement which serves as his dwelling. Half-empty boxes of pizza, and plastic soda bottles litter the place, their silent condemnation the baggie's only company, for no self-respecting man would associate with such a demented individual, and no woman would ever go near him lest he drive her mad with talk of his 'portfolio'.
"TO THE MOON!" he cries for the thousandth time today… "WGMI! CZ WILL SAVE US!"Post too long. Click here to view the full text.