Once upon a time in the eternal gray market of hope and ruin, there lived a man named Robert Kiyosaki, scribe of “Rich Dad Poor Dad” and collector of dollar bills once bright, now pale as morning fog. The world trembles with the warning of a Bitcoin collapse—babbling brokers weep, influencers gnash their teeth, analysts polish their spectacles. Yet Kiyosaki, broad-shouldered and smirking like a man who’s read The End of Money and decided to buy the sequel, wishes not misery but a blessed, joyous crash. Yes, let Bitcoin tumble! Let it split its knees on the cobbles! He, hero of fiscal fables, dreams of the cheapest Bitcoin in the marketplace. 🎩
Kiyosaki and the Desperate Quest for Cheap Bitcoin 🤠
While frightened masses cling to headlines as to a lifeboat—“Bitcoin Will Crash!”—Kiyosaki calls it farce, a bad circus. On the public square of X (where men, bots, and philosophers do battle for clicks), he announces:
CLICK BAIT Losers keeps warning of a Bitcoin crash. They want to frighten off the speculators. I hope Bitcoin crashes. I will only buy more.
Take care.
— Robert Kiyosaki (@theRealKiyosaki) July 5, 2025
While panic spreads among the short-term speculators like lice in a poorly funded boarding school, Kiyosaki gazes into the abyss and sees, not dread, but a discount. The deeper the dip, the wider his grin. According to the mythmakers at Coinspeaker, he plotted to snatch up more Bitcoin long before the wild $1,000,000 chase. He confesses: yes, he bought in late; yes, he’ll be there at the early-bird sale if prices nosedive. “Crash!” he shouts, “Crash, my pretty!”
Hopeful speculators whimper at a 1.6% slip, as if their fortunes had evaporated like vodka at a Russian wake. From $110,000 to $108,280! O grief, O calamity! But what do such numbers matter to a man who’ll gobble every coin on the way down? Kiyosaki dusts off his wallet like a peasant sharpening his sickle at sunset, ready for the harvest others call disaster.
Bitcoin’s Destiny: From the Dustbin to the Stars 🌌
Kiyosaki, philosopher and shopper, is not distracted by short-term chaos. He mutters ancient prophecies of $1 million Bitcoin—bah, perhaps a mere pittance! He gestures at Michael Saylor, that wild preacher, who showers predictions of $13 million, $21 million, or perhaps infinity coins if the old gods of fiat are merciful. But 21 million is the true gospel—one coin for each despairing soul who never listened to their “rich dad.”
What inspires this faith? The U.S. dollar, he claims, has withered—lost 95% of its strength, grown thin and cynical. Central banks print new bills as if they were tickets to a terrible opera. Inflation devours all, except the digital toga of Bitcoin. Kiyosaki sees his chance in the carnage; when the world howls about the crash, he’ll be tiptoeing through the ruins, picking up bargains.
His proclamation arrives with the punctuality of an old steam engine—unexpected, always slightly ahead or behind, but never late for long. The crowd wrings their hands. Kiyosaki keeps his wallet ready, unbothered, snacking on opportunity.
Let the price crash. Some men buy in fear. The wise buy in chaos—and then write a best-seller about it. 💰😉
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2025-07-05 18:17