$ShitCoinGuru the next degen coin is here

The Rise and Fall of Shitcoinguru

In a corner of the internet, where memes collide with crypto chaos, there existed a digital currency known only as Shitcoinguru. It was born on a subreddit, sparked by a meme about the endless parade of absurd altcoins flooding the market. “Why not create one that’s truly useless?” someone joked. And so, the coin was born — a token built entirely on satire, its purpose as a currency just as hollow as the promises behind it.

Shitcoinguru was a joke, but it was a joke that caught fire.

At first, only a handful of bored traders in their basements bought in, tossing a few bucks into the coin as a laugh. But the meme was catchy. Shitcoinguru gained momentum, quickly finding its way into Twitter threads, Telegram chats, and Discord servers. “The next Dogecoin,” some claimed. “The future of decentralized nonsense,” others chimed in.

By day three, Shitcoinguru was listed on a secondary exchange. By day five, it had a market cap that rivaled small nations. By day seven, it was featured on CNBC under the headline, “A New Meme Coin Takes Over Crypto Markets — Meet Shitcoinguru.”

It was chaos. Investors, many of them not even sure what they were buying, rushed in. A meme coin with no real utility, no roadmap, and no white paper, became a symbol of everything that was both ridiculous and somehow exhilarating about the crypto boom. People posted screenshots of their newfound “wealth,” boasting that they owned millions of Shitcoinguru coins. Some turned their profile pictures into the coin’s logo: a cartoonish turd wearing a wizard’s hat.

But as the hype grew, so did the risks. Promises of moonshots — fantastical predictions that the coin would hit $1, then $10, and maybe even $100 — filled every corner of the internet. Speculators became obsessed with “getting in early” and “HODLing.” They ignored all the red flags: the developers were anonymous, the tokenomics made no sense, and every price spike was followed by an equally ridiculous crash.

Then, one fateful Friday night, the inevitable happened. The coin’s lead developer, or rather, the figurehead who had been promoting Shitcoinguru from behind an avatar, tweeted cryptically: “It’s been fun, but it’s time to move on. Enjoy the ride, friends.”

The rug was pulled.

Within hours, the value of Shitcoinguru plummeted. Investors watched in horror as their holdings became worthless. The memes dried up, the hype evaporated, and the coin, like so many before it, was forgotten in the vast digital graveyard of defunct projects.

In the end, Shitcoinguru wasn’t so much a financial experiment as it was a cautionary tale — a brief, shining example of how memes, for better or worse, can shape markets and make the absurd seem inevitable. Those who got out early made a fortune. Those who held on too long? Well, they were left with a digital wallet full of regret… and a slightly smelly joke.