Wall St. Brokers too Broke for Models, Begin Dating Fat Chicks

Remember when the stock market used to be as, if not more lucrative than Bingo and scratch-offs combined? Those days are but a distant memory, and the market instead now resembles a steaming pile of elephant feces, that if you were to stick your money into, you would surely come down with a nasty case of bloody nipple syndrome. The stock market today is the modern day leper colony, full of unwanted souls. The recession is broad and unforgiving, and is seriously affecting the lives of countless stockbrokers and the models they sleep with.

These waify Amazonians have depended on the stock broker for centuries to provide them with the luxurious lifestyle of frivolities and debauchery they require. The entire industry of lettuce bars (providing high-end imported Arugala lettuce sandwiches starting at $85) has suffered tremendously. An estimated 100% of their income comes from skinny models, paid for by their wealthy coke-addled number crunching boyfriends. The recent indictment of grafter extraordinaire Bernie Madoff has left a baker’s dozen of gold-digging mistresses flat broke, unable to afford a simple lettuce sandwich or room of chinchilla hair wallpaper. It is a deeply troubling and sad state of affairs in the world of elitist love affairs. Models are forced to turn to arms dealers and air traffic controllers (the highest paying federal job that doesn’t require a degree) for the dollars and cents they crave (instead of normal portions of food).

Conversely, the overworked frat boys in ties down on Wall St. find themselves strangely single. For as long as they could remember, they had dated, or at least slept with, countless superficial models impressed by their imported silk and white gold embossed business cards or their comprehensive collection of skin and hair products. But now that the market is tanking daily, they no longer can afford fancy business cards or shampoos made from the pituitary glands of baby penguins. No longer can brokers afford swanky clubs and meat bars with a $200 cover fee, which is basically an exchange of money for the guarantee of a model in their bed that evening.

Times are tough, and the insatiable need for status and sex has forced many a stock broker to start dating overweight cashiers and lunchladies. Many scientists wonder why when moving down the chain of attractiveness have these broke brokers skipped from models to fatties without consideration of hot or even average women. This puzzling trend can only be a testament to the desperate and confused state of mind these financial flops find themselves in. Wall Streeters as a profession are exhibiting signs of clinical depression, and extreme bi-polar schizophrenia, with just a zesty hint of meningitis. And this condition is only further aggravated when many stockmen find themselves in more debt than ever before, having to flip the bill for enormous amounts of food some of these hungry heifers devour. Some appetites are more intense than a homeless man, a black hole and the 1976 Boston Celtics combined, leaving the broker stunned and impoverished. .

On a positive note, many big girls find themselves large and in charge- of hollow shells of men used to pampering women with platinum cards, that is. Perhaps America will finally alter its unort

hodox devotion to the anorexic, and begin to appreciate the beauty of the ball over the stick? In other words, develop a fat fetish. In the year of the Ox a half black man rises to power, and with just three short years until the Mayan Apocalypse, anything is possible.