Until We Know What Trump Will Do Next...Let's Talk Penile Implants.
It could help his last days in office.
“Women don’t suffer from penis envy. Men do.” Joseph Heller.
It’s been a joyless week in politics. Even the British oddsmakers weren’t getting takers on 10/1 odds Trump will win. Okay, he did win a lawsuit, causing a recount in Pennsylvania, which sent Biden’s electoral votes up to 306. Remember when Trump hit that number in 2016? He called it “a slaughter.” Now he calls Biden’s win “the greatest con in American history.”
It’s amazing how everything’s historical with Trump. Like last Saturday when he passed through The Million MAGA March in his limo, giving protestors the thumbs up before grabbing a golf game in Arlington.
Trump just wanted to go hit a ball around.
The numbers were good, but not a million, and certainly not historical. The only thing historical was Trump himself. Most presidents tend to stop and address a crowd of that size, except, perhaps Taft, who was too fat to get out of the car. Trump’s put on a few pounds, too, but not to the point where he won’t get up and “daddy dance” to YMCA.
News agencies nationwide picked up on it, saying it’s not the Trump they used to know. He is, after all, a walking self-promoter, who loves votes, big rallies, and big things in general. So why didn’t he get out of his car?
Maybe it wasn’t his love of golf, or his weight, that kept him in his limo. Maybe — and I say maybe — it’s his tallywagger.
Rumour has it he’s been taking a hair loss drug linked to irreversible erectile dysfunction and depression. If that’s the case — and I say if because it could just be tongues wagging — our president could be in need of a penile implant.
“I was on her like a bitch,” he said, leaving the world — and his wife — wondering if he was referring to his randiness, or his outie being an innie.
He gave every indication things weren’t exactly normal back when he was interviewed by Access Hollywood. “I was on her like a bitch,” he said, leaving the world — and his wife — wondering if he was referring to his randiness, or his outie being an innie.
Rather than leave it to our imaginations, I think Trump should go ahead and get an implant. Even if he doesn’t need one now, no doubt he will on January 20th, when he’s escorted to his limo — or an old Buick — by White House security.
Presidents need to stand proud when they leave office, especially when they’ve kept the electorate hanging through Christmas. It’s also important if he expects to get “any,” in his post-presidency days. As it stands now, Melania won’t even hold his hand.
And let’s not kid ourselves. He’ll need it more if he expects to get “any,” in his post presidency days. As things stand now, Melania won’t even hold his hand.
With this in mind, I’ve done some research, listing the pros and cons of each type of implant. Both do the job in a timely fashion, and timing’s important in these next 11 weeks. He needs to show himself to his best effect, and nothing does that like, well, having a stiffy.
So let’s start with the Vacuum Contraction Device, a favourite of declining presidents worldwide. It consists of two inflatable cylinders filled with silicone inserted in the penis. When the mood strikes, you can pump up or deflate with a valve located under the scrotum.
This VCD is practically foolproof although, as one woman on Reddit put it, “You have to wonder about some guy hopping around on one leg grabbing his nut sack.”
Not that Trump will have this problem. He’ll probably have someone inflating it for him. “I’ve never seen anyone who needs to be stroked as much as him,” one White House Aide said, asking to remain anonymous.
Well, sure, presidents tend to have inflated egos. Why not inflated tallywaggers? Then again, not everyone wants to be pumped. Some expect the “goods” to be there all the time, which brings me to the second option, known as “The Rods.”
This implant remains firm, thanks to a series of spring-loaded rods, much like a collapsable cane. The rods can be bent away from the body when the need arises, or pushed to the abdomen for easy concealment.
The downside of “The Rods” is a lack of dexterity, meaning it’s hard to swing them back and forth — which explains why Johnson never wanted one.
Some spring-back can occur, but that’s normal even with real penises. It usually marks a man as spontaneous. In Lyndon B. Johnson’s case, he was more spontaneous than most, and didn’t mind flaunting his member to aides in the presidential washroom—or out on his ranch in Texas.
The downside of “The Rods” is a lack of dexterity, meaning it’s hard to swing them back and forth — which explains why Johnson never wanted one. They can also be hard to conceal under clothing — which explains why Johnson should have wanted one.
At this point, I’m sure you’re asking if this is Trump’s only recourse. Well, he can’t continue with these lawsuits. Even his lawyers admit they won’t stand up to scrutiny. It’s also likely he won’t get anywhere claiming the ballot counting machines, made by Dominion, were intentionally “fixed.”
I mean, who holds a press conference at a landscaping company between a porn shop and a crematorium? Perhaps a man who likes porn shops?
No, the only “fix” now is a penile implant. Once he’s back feeling like a man again, maybe he can explain that ill-fated presser in Philadelphia. At least, with a stiffy, he can say the Four Seasons Total Landscaping wasn’t even the intended location. It was the porn shop next door. “Nobody knows porn shops like me,” he’ll say, “and here in North Philly, you’ve got some great ones.”
Everything should be considered at this point—just as everything should be left undone if he wants Biden to fail miserably. Biden isn’t even allowed to attend intelligence meetings. Richard Nixon, a truly evil and vindictive individual, wanted a smooth transition of power. Surely Trump doesn’t want his record defined by his “smallness” on such an issue.
The 35th president made a point of shaking it in the Oval office washroom, sometimes more than his aides thought appropriate.
He probably will be anyway, but why blame it on his tallywagger? If he’s back hanging true, as they say, he can be like Lyndon Johnson. The 35th president made a point of shaking it in the Oval office washroom, sometimes more than his aides thought appropriate. “Look at this thing,” he’d say, confirming that Texans really do like everything big.
Trump needs to be back in the “size game,” too, even if it’s just to get the oddsmakers in Britain on his side again. Maybe NASA can come up with something special. Space has to be a bitch for tallywaggers. You need great aim in those space bathrooms, and it doesn’t hurt having length, too.
Trump should talk to them. At least let him walk out of the White House with a stiffy. It seems only right. He’ll have enough problems as it is with the New York District Attorney’s office after him for statewide—or seemingly statewide—deficiencies in his tax reporting, not to mention a line-up of women charging him with sexual assault and, no doubt, gross indecency.
Why add to those problems with a limpy?
Robert Cormack is a satirist, novelist, and former advertising copywriter. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. Check out Skyhorse Press or Simon and Schuster for more details.
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