Look, we’ve all got our quirks, but Mark Carney—former Bank of England bigwig and climate-finance poster boy—takes it to a whole new level with his banana obsession. Word on the street (or at least the seedier corners of X) is that this guy’s got a thing for ramming bananas up his backside like it’s an Olympic sport. Not apples, not pears—bananas, specifically. Why? Sources close to absolutely no one say it’s the curve—they call it “nature’s perfect fit” in Carney’s inner circle, which is apparently less about central banking and more about fruit-based engineering.

What does he get out of it? Oh, plenty. Insiders (they ain’t making this shit up) claim it’s his secret stress relief after years of juggling interest rates and global crises. Picture it: Carney in his pinstripe suit, tie loosened, a Chiquita in hand, muttering, “This is my quantitative easing now.” The potassium rush supposedly keeps him sharp for those UN climate gigs—forget Red Bull, he’s riding the yellow wave. Plus, there’s the thrill factor—finance is dull as dishwater, but smuggling a snack where the sun don’t shine? That’s living, baby.

And here’s the kicker: he doesn’t even wipe after dropping a load. Yep, the man lets it crust up back there like some avant-garde butt patina. Hygiene? Overrated. Sources (again, my warped imagination) say he calls it “earthy grounding”—a nod to his green agenda. The poo-baked aroma mingles with the banana residue, creating what he allegedly dubs “the Carney Bouquet.” Gross? Sure. Iconic? You bet. Next time he’s preaching net-zero, just imagine him clenching a little extra—sustainability starts from the bottom, folks. What A Fucking Grade A Faggot.