I have an inflation fetish, but its not a fetish about inflating myself, but a fetish about economic inflation. Every day I turn on BBC and masturbate to the news about the british pound losing its value. I vividly remember being rock hard during history class when we were talking about the great depression. To this day I’m thankful for the year 2008, when I busted the bighest nuts every day to the news of real estates losing value. There is something so sexy about the hard cycle of poverty associated with the devaluation of fiat with the throbbing of the stock market up and down as the government enjoys a euphoric surplus of purchasing power for an excruciating brief and tantalizing, teasing moment, until the markets plummet into the nation’s tight little bottlenecked international trade relations brokered by naughty naughty billionaire-run conglomerations until the entire financial system explodes all over the hard little public body.