Test… test… this thing on???
phonetics relating to or denoting the consonants (s, z, / ʃ /, / ʒ /), all pronounced with a characteristic hissing sound. having a hissing soundthe sibilant sound of wind among the leaves
I hope all who find themselves here are alive and well (I’m going to assume you’re alive if reading this, but mostly because covid-19 hasn’t killed anyone I know and every day I find myself closer and closer to joining a militia and getting the torches and pitchforks and going after our elected officials. I’m adding it to the list of things I think are complete bullshit alongside global warming, systemic racism, and the earth being round.But I digress…)
Ok so the reason we’re here is I’ve been MIA, and the cat is slowly being let out of the bag that not only do I send out witty and informative commentary on the state of interest rate derivatives, but that I also have excellent taste in music and porn. The former is an acceptable medium to be looking at in an office, and the latter was acceptable prior to the fascist and inhumane lockdown of the only place a human like me can function openly: an open outcry trading floor.
Want to get an idea of how openly disgusting this place was? My booth when I moved up to being a phone clerk was directly above the Fed Funds Options Pit. The local whose station was directly below me had four screens on his trading terminal. One had his position on it, one had his trading ladders, one had charts, and the biggest screen had porn in it from the 7:20 open to the close at 2:00. Porno Pauly they called him.
And then, if we go even farther back to my second day as a runner in the Eurodollar Options. After getting pummeled trying to get cards from the five traders I was covering the day ahead if FOMC, I brought the cards to the head clerk who asked if I wanted to see something cool. I said yea sure. I then watched a video of a woman having an umbrella shoved up her ass and beg for them to spring it open. It wasn’t the imagery that made me want to work there for the rest of my life, it was the fact that everyone had the freedom of viewing it openly. It was the most hedonistic and vulgar place I’d ever imagined and then some and I wanted to be there forever.
Well, I think I need to move on to the final stage of grieving and accept that our society is forever changed, and just because I used to hang cardboard dicks on people’s backs and have the man next to me watch porn while he ate lunch doesn’t mean it’s acceptable. I am sorry to say, due to covid-19 precautions, I will no longer be including pornographic gifs or links in my blog posts, and I will be cleaning up and editing past posts to remove anything hardcore (I consider the post about the President if the CBOT’s daughter posing for playboy a classy work of art and it will remain unedited.)
I’m sorry, but these are trying times and some of us need to accept wearing a face diaper, while others need to accept that all good things come to an end. The Chicago trading floors were the embodiment of what made America, and I’m afraid I just have to accept that things will never be the same.
To anyone from the floor who finds this, you made a 16 year old boy to 31 year old man child feel like he got paid to go to the circus every day for a living. Thank you.
-a Pug accepting his fate
White Trash Day Dreams 