Sometimes, you’ve got to get your hands dirty to understand the mess.
Who This Is For
If you’ve ever aped into a token without knowing why, watched a chart go vertical, or found yourself staring at a Telegram group wondering what just happened — this post is for you.
Whether you’re new to meme coins or think you’ve “seen it all,” I promise you haven’t seen this.
I Built a Meme Coin — And Then I Pulled the Plug
The project was called $BABYBILLY — a cartoonish, lore-heavy, preacher-themed meme coin that was intentionally absurd. It was designed to be a giant red flag. A parody of the exact kind of coin people say never to buy.
And then, people bought it.
I ran the launch, pumped the hype, quarterbacked the Telegram group, and — when it started to catch attention — I let it go dark. Some would call that a rugpull.
But let’s talk about what that actually means.
What Is a Rugpull, Really?
A rugpull is a form of crypto scam where a project’s creators pull the metaphorical rug out from under investors — usually after pumping up hype and liquidity.
There are a few ways this happens:
- Dev Wallet Dumps
The developers use bots or a network of wallets to buy up large amounts of the coin early, then sell (or dump) when new buyers flood in. - Liquidity Drain
They pull all the liquidity out of the trading pool, making the token worthless overnight. - Slow-Rug / Ghosting
Instead of a dramatic exit, devs stop developing, disappear from Discord or Telegram, and let the community rot while quietly offloading their bags. - Rugging the Devs
Sometimes, a project lead ghosts their own team, leaving unpaid developers and moderators behind while they vanish with profits.
So… Did I Rug?
Here’s the truth:
- I didn’t dump a huge bag (I hold a tiny amount).
- I didn’t drain liquidity.
- I paid everyone involved.
- I didn’t rug my devs (there weren’t any unpaid).
- I did ghost the community — but that “community” was mostly bots and paid shillers farming fake engagement.
So technically? No.
Emotionally? Yeah, probably.
But $BABYBILLY still exists. The contract is live. It’s what I now call a cursed coin — part of the unreleased lore. We won’t promote it. We won’t develop it. But it’s out there, and anyone can buy it if they dare.
And if you do?
We will take your Sol.
(We won’t really. We don’t own enough to rug it. 😂)
The Power of Solana (And a Few Bots)
Here’s the uncomfortable truth:
With enough Solana, I could’ve pumped $BABYBILLY to the moon.
Hell, anyone could’ve. That’s the real lesson here.
In the meme coin world, it doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t have to be ethical. It doesn’t even have to be real. All it takes is a half-decent story, a catchy visual, and some strategic liquidity.
A group of degens and digital outlaws can spin up a coin, hop on a Twitter Space with their closet allies, light a match, and let the bots take over. Engagement explodes. Threads fly. Memes flood in. Suddenly, some guy with a frog PFP is calling it the “next $DOGE.”
And that’s how fortunes get made — and lost — in a matter of hours.
No fundamentals. No business model. Just pure, weaponized chaos.
And the best part?
The people playing this game… know exactly what it is.
They just don’t care.
Why I Did It Anyway
Because I needed to understand the game.
From the inside.
I’ve been in crypto long enough to lose money the “normal” way — chasing coins, believing in vibes, getting rugged by strangers. So I decided to run my own. I wanted to know what it felt like to build the machine — to be the one behind the charts, the shills, the bots.
And yeah — I had to get my hands dirty.
The Botpocalypse Is Real
Here’s what I didn’t fully grasp until I was in it:
You are not trading against other humans.
You’re up against sniper bots, engagement bots, promo bots, even influencer bots. I’d post a teaser and within seconds I’d see:
- “Next 100x easy.”
- “We early fr fr.”
- “Moon vibes 🚀🚀🚀.”
All fake. All scripts. Even some influencers offering “partnerships” ran their own bot farms to boost whatever they pushed.
The entire thing is synthetic.
And you are the liquidity.
People Knew It Was a Joke — But They Still Bought In
That’s what really stuck with me.
I made $BABYBILLY absurd on purpose. The branding was unhinged. The lore was unhinged. I thought I was making something too obviously bad for anyone to take seriously.
And yet… they did.
Because once a chart starts to move, logic disappears.
People who complain about the cost of lunch will throw five grand at a coin with a frog in a top hat or something called $FARTCOIN.
Crypto isn’t just risky — it’s full-on gambling. And the second there’s a sniff of profit, people abandon everything they know.
Have you done that?
Be honest with yourself.
So What Makes a Meme Coin “Work”?
Here’s the painful truth:
The only meme coins that last have three things:
- A cult-like community
- A compelling story or lore
- Some kind of ongoing development, even if it’s fake
That’s it. Not utility. Not whitepapers. Not innovation.
Just culture.
The Aftermath
$BABYBILLY lives on as a cursed relic of the meme coin underworld.
No roadmap. No promises. Just a floating contract in the Solana ether. It could be picked up by bots. Or revived by true degenerates. Or rot.
Whatever happens, it served its purpose:
Crypto Dummy was born.
So Tell Me…
Have you been rugged before?
What was your moment of “Oh no, what have I done?”
Drop a comment, share your story, or email me.
I’ll be sharing reader submissions in future posts.
Let’s stop pretending we’re all geniuses in Web3.
Let’s talk about what actually happens.
Coming Soon:
“Red Flags You Ignore on Purpose: A Crypto Dummy Survival Guide”
(And why bots always get in before you do.)
Disclaimer:
This is not financial advice. Do your own damn research. Crypto Dummy is here to educate — not pump your bags.
Crypto Dummy 
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