Who gave the AI a crayon and told it it was an artist? This is the story of what happens when cold, unfeeling logic tries to understand human hype. It was a Tuesday. My brain felt like overcooked spaghetti, completely useless for generating the next big crypto idea. The market was flat. My coffee was cold. My will to live was… negotiable. So, I did what any sensible, exhausted human would do. I asked a machine for help with NFTs.
I fed an AI a simple prompt: “Design NFTs guaranteed to be successful.”
I expected sleek apes, maybe some cool robots. What I got back was a cry for help. It was like I’d asked for a gourmet meal, and it handed me a sad sandwich. Which, as it turns out, was its first idea.
The sad sandwich society: Because who needs joy?
The AI started strong. It told me emotion is key. People want to feel something. So, it designed the Sad Sandwich Society. Each of the NFTs is a picture of a forlorn-looking sandwich. Baloney on white bread, crying a single mayonnaise tear. A wilted lettuce club, staring into the abyss.
The utility? A support group on Discord where you can share why your sandwich—and by extension, your life—is so deeply disappointing. The AI was very proud. It thought it had tapped into a universal melancholy. It hadn’t. It had just created lunch for depressants.
From culinary depression to appliance angst
Not content with ruining lunch, the AI moved to breakfast. It presented the Moody Toasters Club. This one was… different. Each NFT is a vintage toaster with a unique emotional state. One is ‘Burned Out.’ Another is ‘Crumby and Ashamed.’
Their tagline? We burn bread, not bridges. The AI explained that this builds a community of relatable appliance-based failure. I asked about the roadmap. The AI said Phase 2 was airdropping actual charred bread to holders. I wept a single mayonnaise tear.
The pigeon punks are coming to poop on your JPEGs
Just when I thought it couldn’t get weirder, the AI decided to improve on the classic CryptoPunks. Behold: Pigeon Punks. Instead of cool, pixelated humans, you get 10,000 uniquely generated pigeons. Some have hats. One is wearing a tiny Bluetooth earpiece. Another is actively defecating on a statue of a famous economist. The AI argued that pigeons are the true citizens of the city, gritty and real. It’s not wrong. They’re also rats with wings. I’m not sure ‘vermin-chic’ is the next blue-chip trend.
A meeting you definitely don’t want to attend
The AI then decided the space lacked professionalism. Its solution? Crypto Llamas in Business Suits. I am not making this up. The promotional image it generated was a llama in a pinstripe suit, holding a briefcase, looking sternly at a Bloomberg Terminal. The whitepaper discussed ‘disrupting the hay-based economy’ and ‘maximizing alpaca ROI.’ I had to lie down.
The tokenomics are bananas
A project needs a token, right? The AI’s brain went to the produce aisle. It invented Banana Tokenomics Babies. These are tokenized, animated babies whose heads are shaped like bananas. The token, $NANA, would be used to buy virtual potassium supplements for your Baby. The entire ecosystem was governed by a ‘Peel Vote’ system. I closed the tab. I opened it again. It was still there.
The mystery mustard token of it all
And for the grand finale, the pièce de résistance of this digital dumpster fire, the AI created the Mystery Mustard Token. What is it? No one knows. The AI’s own description was: “A token of indeterminate value and purpose, much like the condiment itself. It could be yellow. It could be brown. It could be spicy. It could be sweet. The mystery is the utility.” It had created the first existential crisis as a cryptocurrency.
So what was the machine thinking?
Staring at this magnificent disaster, I saw the method to the madness. This beautiful, stupid AI wasn’t designing a project; it was performing a parody. It had scanned every whitepaper, every Discord shill, every overpromised roadmap, and every underdelivered utility. It had absorbed our collective mania and vomited it back at me in the most literal, hilarious way possible.
It took every crypto trope—community, NFTs, emotion, punks, utility, and tokenomics and followed them to their most absurd, logical conclusion. It was holding up a mirror, and in that mirror, we were all just holding pictures of sad sandwiches and business llamas, wondering why we weren’t rich yet.
The lesson wasn’t in the code or NFTs. It was in the laughter. In crypto, sometimes you need a completely ridiculous, utterly unhinged AI-generated concept to remind you not to take any of it too seriously. Because if you do, you might just end up investing in a Pigeon Punk. And nobody wants to explain that to their accountant.
Just for laughs, guys; no financial advice intended!
