XRP Dreamers Lose All Money While Execs Drive Lambos 🚗💸

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It was a Sunday, like any other Sunday, when the great Charles Gasparino-prophet of fiscal sobriety, scourge of financial fantasy, and anchor of reality with the subtlety of a Cossack’s boot-once again took up his sword (or rather, his thumbs) to duel the noble horde known as the XRP Army.

Oh, the XRP Army! A valiant band of digital crusaders, each armed with a dream, a crypto wallet nearly empty, and a shared belief that one day, somehow, XRP shall rise like a phoenix from the ashes of blockchain disillusionment-and perhaps buy them a slightly upgraded toaster.

Setting aside the idiocy of you holding XRP thinking youre getting rich, how much did Brad Garlinghouse and the gang profit off of your idiocy? Sad Ha!

– Charles Gasparino (@CGasparino) January 3, 2026 💬🔥

Yes, there it was again-the thunder clap over the financial steppes, echoing across the plains of X (formerly known as Twitter, but let’s not dwell on rebranding failures). Gasparino had spoken. And not just spoken-spat. For he saw not investors before him, but tragically misinformed souls clinging to a digital tulip bulb, praying for dividends in dogecoins and the occasional meme featuring a Shiba Inu in a judge’s wig.

“You think you’re getting rich?” he sneered, tossing rhetorical barbs like pretzels at a hungry mob. “Tell me, dear dreamer, how many Lamborghinis did Brad Garlinghouse buy with your life savings? One? Two? Was there a fleet? And while we’re at it-why are you still poor?”

He did not stop. Oh no. He charged forward with the momentum of a bear on espresso:

Don’t you wish [SEC Chair] Jay [Clayton] made Ripple people disclose how much money they made on XRP while you lost all that money? You really make this easy. 😏

Ah, yes. The SEC Shuffle-that eternal dance of regulatory limbo, where hope bends backward until something cracks. Gasparino, perennial chorus master of financial cynicism, reminded us all: while the little man weeps into his ramen, the executives have already cashed out, retired to a private island, and renamed it Ripple Cay.

The Cult of Bagholders

And so, we come to the Cult of Bagholders-a brotherhood not of blood, but of accumulated loss. A fellowship that gathers not in temples, but in Telegram groups where the only sacrament is HODL and the holy water is FOMO.

Gasparino, who modestly claims he “put the XRP community on the map” (much like Columbus claimed he discovered America, except here the natives were already there and also losing money), has spent late 2025 and early 2026 in spirited communion with this cult. In particular, he’s developed a feud with one Mr. Huber (@Leerzeit), whom Gasparino, in a stroke of geopolitical poetry, dubs “Mr. Germany.”

Whenever Mr. Germany doesn’t have money for a bratwurst or a little schnitzel because he lost it all on $XRP, this clown shows up on my timeline. 😂

Poor Mr. Germany! Once he could afford sauerkraut and dignity. Now? He must choose between a coin and a kielbasa. Such are the tragedies of modern finance, played out not on the floor of the NYSE, but in the shadow realm of crypto discourse, where emojis speak louder than earnings reports. 🥨📉

Gasparino, of course, insists he is not mocking. No! He is “a reality checker.” Like a stern schoolteacher rapping the knuckles of children who believed the moon was made of BTC.

The Great XRP Balloon Deflation of 2025

It began with such promise! 2025-the Golden Year, prophesied by sages in hoodies and Discord shamans. The SEC settlement in May! Jubilation! Celebrations! Tweets with fire emojis and promises of “$100 XRP by Christmas”! 🎄🚀

In July, XRP soared to a celestial high of $3.65. Angels wept. Portfolios glowed. Some even sold their grandmother’s silver (not literally, but emotionally).

And then-sproing-the balloon burst. Like a overinflated accordion at a Ukrainian wedding, XRP deflated with a sad wheeze, settling into a gloomy $2.00 range by late 2025, where it remained into early 2026, whimpering softly like a wet dog in a parking garage.

Gasparino, witnessing this financial flailing, declared: “XRP is getting absolutely crushed.” Which, while technically accurate, is about as helpful as telling a drowning man the water is wet. 🌊😬

Yet still, the XRP Army marches on. They are not deterred by sarcasm, nor by economics, nor by the crushing weight of reality. They believe. They hope. They HODL.

And somewhere, in a penthouse high above the Pacific, Brad Garlinghouse raises a glass of champagne, toasts to volatility, and whispers: “Bless their idiotic little hearts.” 🥂❤️‍🩹

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2026-01-04 11:46