Psychologists detect pre-existing conditions. A spokesman for the silent majority replies.
By Andy Blumenthal
Bunk. What crap. Another pathetic dig at our elected president. At least make it credible, the way normal fake news spins around real events like a murder or WMDs. Though he could probably easily fabricate ecstasy, it’s a bizarre slur that diverts his attention. Blow it off, life’s tough enough, why chew on more baloney?
Suppose the orgasms are faked. It’d be a boost for us, whirlwinded by his flogging insults and surefire promises, only to have soured some, suffering a little buyer’s remorse, dismayed as he dismantles the checks and balances that promote mans evolution. Faking orgasms rouses the rally cry of “The rascal can really stick it to ’em”.
Make-believe orgasms won’t help those already stunned in slackjawed horror, who fear civilization rests on his success at feigning euphoria. What if, in the middle, his voice cracks and, deranged, he attacks Utah?
This ‘Fakes His Orgasms’ story spread like eczema across social media, the brunt of talk show hosts, landing 22 seconds on prime time networks. He scoffed, tired of being called “an aberrant blowhard crackpot,” tweeting “Not saying I fake them, but if I did they’d be better than anyone’s.”
There’s talk of an audiotape with explicit male LUFFing (slang: Loud Unusual Fauxgasm Flouting). Rumor is he’s not praising her sexuality, but bellowing for his benefit. Huh? Traditionally it’s a male ego lift from the female partner. Apparently the wailing, moaning and heaving is he glorifying his illustriousness.
Orgasmic Fraudulence is the specialty of world-renowned sexologist Dr. Oral Flitzerkacke, called to put down this cockamamie falderal. Rarely is there concrete evidence, so his clinic relies on circumstantial proof brought by insecure husbands. Melania was invited to testify. She declined.
Dr. Flitzerkacke published his findings in Big O Quarterly. Possessing an orgasmically trained eye, he saw the first indicator—Insufficient Weaning.
Note his pucker shaped mouth; his penchant for grabbing birth canals; he was a thumbsucker ’til age 12. These symptoms, seared in infancy, reveal a love/hate psychosis—he wants to, and refuses to, nurse. Anger and joy blend as hostile entitlement. Hence, the symbiotic reveling with belligerent dictators Putin, Sisi, Erdogan and Duterte; the violence-laced speeches akin to Brown Shirt bash fests; wanting a big-bombs parade at his inauguration and Leni Riefenstahl to film it; men who reach for congratulatory hugs are repelled with a don’t-touch glare while women are eye-groped; extoling walls for their racial/ethnic internment camp security; the comb-over hairstyle with a full head of hair.
So he’s wired funny. Who isn’t? End of story.
Unfortunately, if he’s oblivious to his rush/roar ejaculates, we must conclude he suffers the overarching psychopathy, PSSS—Premature Slurp Separation Syndrome.
What?
Yes. He’s attempting to override the spoor of his upbringing. The cascade of bellicose accusations and self-inflating lies serve to breach the void of intimate contact. Drinking from full mammaries promotes humane emotions, what the other children absorbed, like a reverence for discovery, being silly, humility to admit mistakes, compassion for suffering.
Interesting. So faking orgasms papers over lost values like honesty, as alien to him as self-loathing?
Indeed. The burst of brouhaha propels him to the far side of his psyche ravine, to the rescue salve of winning. Leaping emotional building blocks lets him celebrate feeling whole. Faking orgasms is his bridge to normalcy.
Well better, right? Better to extol victories than flounder in the chasm of doubt. No wonder he’s calmer after a methadone dose of inciting-to-riot rallies.
Weighing in, Dr. Keister Rasch from ASS—Anchorage Sexaholics Society.
Careful. The malady demands insulating. Without an ethical net foundation, his abyss of distrust fosters paranoid hallucinations. He must beat back telltale flaws and anyone who paints him as “a warped catastrophe.” Ergo, the prejudiced Mexican judge because he’s Mexican; the woman he couldn’t have groped because “just look at her” (body shaming versus moral grounds); declaring McCain isn’t a war hero after standing up to torture; spotty attendance to his dirge-like inauguration leaves out those watching on TV; he won the popular vote when you subtract the 3 million fraudulent ones; the staged 77-minute press conference meant to browbeat reporters for having outed his ineptitude; labeling the free press as the enemy.
Hmm. Maybe this PSSS explains his occasional mislandings, like twice suggesting Hillary should be shot; or the famous spasmodic body-shaking mock of a disabled reporter (an action so humiliating and lewd that even Jared looked away); resorting to a child’s tactic of misdirecting blame by lobbing pre-emptive denouncements (the concocted wiretap accusation to deflect Russiagate; the finger pointing of McCarthyism to avert his own resemblance; the attempt to taint the election as rigged, unless he wins).
Dr. Flitzerkacke adds:
Wealth is the traditional ruse. Money and property are vault-over veneers that validate—a Lear Jet or a Mar-a-Lago says “Made it.” as opposed to “Made of.” He outshines the dearth of love with material con job propellants. Therefore his single behavioral drive is to score profits, no matter what end. Like selling warplanes to Nigeria, known for human rights abuses, on the guise they’ll fight the Boko Haram; releasing the sale of cancer-causing pesticides; opening up California’s coast to drilling; repealing Dodd-Frank after mankind’s worst global financial meltdown; cashing in presidential graft by getting China to grant his company 38 lucrative business trademarks in a day, what takes years.
Really.
FLASH! Associated Press has the audiotape, delivered by a KGB officer dying of plutonium poisoning. Experts authenticated the bed squeaks found in the tower suite. Transcript: Argh. Ooooyah. Gruglurrrg. Nayeheydoy. OOOuu. RawblinBWAH. HIGHmenhem. FLAdinding. WAYYY. HAYYYYYY. MEEEEEEEYEAH! Phew.
Fine. He fakes his orgasms. Treatment: S & M For Dummies suggests Primal Scream Therapy while watching Barney & Friends.
Gee. Impersonating orgasms almost flips actuality into question, except for when he looks vacuous reading from a prompter, or shoving the prime minister of Montenegro at a photo op, cheering the vainglory success of a tax payoff disguised as healthcare reform. I should have figured when he was unwilling to consider Earth’s atmosphere that’s thinning. Perhaps it’s amoral to discount another country’s meddling in our democracy (aimed at, and resulting in, dividing us against ourselves). Gosh, if PSSS is treatable then let’s treat us for falling lockstep to the confidence of pomposity. Guess we have to be vigilant, break the cycle of hopeful and dependent, listen closer for the Mussolinic ring of “Me, I, great.” Hurry, because last week he authorized rolling back nutrition standards for elementary school children. It stifles profits of high-salt, high-fat food manufacturers.
LIVE BULLETIN: Dateline Bulgaria. PhD Heinie Schlongdor of the Mind To Groin Institute has discovered an ancillary marker. Bed-wetting.
The bladder is pressured by his mounting gall, thus the name of the organ on top of the bladder, the “gallbladder,” creating the need to urinate.
Included were photos, gained from the White House housekeeping staff of the first 100 days’ bed sheets. All stained.
Andy Blumenthal writes short stories, essays and screenplays. He likes Phil Ochs, Federico Fellini and Stan Laurel.
Photo credit: limmurf via a Creative Commons license.
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