I love kidding my partner. He’s in the business of having to care about people and things like Ben Bernanke, Henry Paulson, bonds and bullshit. Sure, I read the FT and the IHT to follow the never-ending train wreck in slow motion that is the U.S. economy. But I don’t care about the story as much as my partner does. And God help me if I quote something I read in the paper or heard about on TV that he disagrees with. “That stupid wanker doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about!”

I’ve learned to keep my opinions to myself. Why risk the wrath of a malevolent markets geek? That’s why I’ve taken to making shit up about the people at the heart of the story. I’ll march into our bedroom on an early Saturday morning and announce, “Ben Bernanke just blew his brains out on the senate floor!”

At first, my partner was gullible enough to believe me. He also believed me when I told him the Malaysian island we vacationed on a couple of years ago was infested with poisonous tree snakes. I would have told him earlier that I was just kidding but I was having too much fun watching him look up with fear in his eyes. And so my made up news announcements went from the sensational to the improbable to the downright ridiculous.

Chuck Schumer just called Ben Bernanke a ‘bad Jew!'”

Henry Paulson just admitted to a homosexual love affair with Harry Reid!”

“Ben Bernanke just took Condoleezza Rice hostage and is threatening to ‘waste her bony black ass!'”

My partner now tells me to shut up. I don’t blame him.