Enormous Testicle Hodler
He never sold. He never will. Frankly, with that payload, he physically can’t run.
He never sold. He never will. Frankly, with that payload, he physically can’t run.
In 2017, a man bought Ethereum at the top. The chart dropped 94%. He did not flinch. He did not blink. Scientists believe this is when the swelling began.
Every time the market crashed, he held. Every time a guy on YouTube with a shocked thumbnail screamed “SELL NOW,” he held harder. Each act of conviction was stored, the way a camel stores water, in the only place large enough to contain it.
Today he stands as the patron saint of everyone who refuses to sell at a loss out of pure, unshakable stubbornness. Some call it financial discipline. Some call it a medical condition. He calls it Tuesday.
Total supply: 1,000,000,000 $ETH. Hard-capped. No inflation, only gravity.
Sold. Ever. Including the time his landlord asked very nicely.
Locked. Liquidity is not leaving the building. Neither is he, he can’t fit through the door.
Conviction. Measured in metric tons. The scale broke in 2022.
Be honest. The market just dropped 40% overnight. What do you do?
The scale is waiting.
Absolutely not. This is a man in leather shorts standing on money. Please do your own research, and maybe also go outside.
Emotional support. Every time you want to panic-sell, you look at him, and you remember that some men carry much heavier burdens.
Friction is for people with weak hands. Everything slides off him: FUD, bear markets, and the concerned looks from his doctor.
Taking profits implies an exit. There is no exit. There is only the hodl.
He doesn’t ask. The moon comes to him. It’s attracted by the gravitational pull.