I’m Taking A Little Time Off To Figure Out How To Suck My Own Cock

By Anthony Scaramucci

I’ve been thinking long and hard about what it takes to be a great Communications Director and have come to the realization that I wasn’t thinking long and hard enough.

A lot of you thought that my words for Steve Bannon were as harsh as they were profane and, I admit, I went a little overboard. While I absolutely meant what I said, I’ve come to the realization that I said and felt those things not out of hatred for Mr. Bannon, but out of jealousy. I, like any man that would rather cut off his own arm than have a meaningful conversation with a woman, want nothing more than to be able to suck my own cock. I’ve yet to meet a man in the GOP that hasn’t professed this desire after a few brandies, but most of their proclamations are in jest because they assume that no man has such ability. I was among these non-believers myself before arriving at my position in Donald Trump’s White House. I wish that I could still believe that such a thing was impossible for a middle-aged man hung like small rodent, but I’ve met Steve Bannon.

My first day as Communications Director flashes before my eyes every night before I go to sleep in vivid detail as I like awake next to my possibly still pregnant wife. After a brief meeting with Mr. Trump and several key members of the staff, Bannon called me into his office. He said he wanted to show me something. At the time I thought that it was something mundane, like hidden camera footage of a Senator masturbating or a list of people the White House would have me kill, but there was nothing mundane happening in Bannon’s office that day.

He gestured for me to take a seat, and I did. Steve walked behind his desk and started unbuttoning his fly. Uncomfortable, I made a joke that if he wanted me to suck his dick he was going to have to come around the desk. Steve not only didn’t laugh, but acted as if I hadn’t said anything at all. It was almost as if he were in the room alone. When his pants hit the floor I was even more confused as his small, semi-hard penis hung like a sick dog out of the window of a moving car, his testicles so small they were completely obscured by the flaps of skin loosely connected to his inner thigh. Why is he showing me such a weak dick? I wondered to myself. It didn’t make a lick of sense. And then that’s when it happened.

In the blink of an eye the grandfather of 5 appeared to have folded his entire body into itself and I stared, awestruck, as the back of his head bobbed ever so slightly back and forth over what was just a moment ago the worst configuration of human genitals I had ever seen in my life. I watched in complete silence for what felt like an eternity but really only amounted to roughly 15 seconds before he returned to his upright position, pulled his pants up and wiped his mouth before then licking the back of his hand. He looked me in the eye, finally, and nodded towards the door.

I roamed the halls aimlessly for the next 45 minutes. I had plenty to do, but I couldn’t focus on anything else right then. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how a man of his age and size could do something like that. Eventually I locked myself away in my office and tried it myself. Not even fucking close. Not only could I not suck my own dick, but I threw my back out in the attempt. Days went by and it was all I could think about. I gave press conferences, went to meetings and spoke with world leaders without really hearing a single word anyone had to say. All I could think about was Bannon and those folds of gray flesh he called a dick. I learned later in the news that my wife had given birth to our child and I apparently responded with a, “Congratulations!” which was met with a filing for divorce. I really can’t blame her for it. From this to my constant talking about how impressed I was with Steve Bannon sucking his own cockto her while making love and to the press, also while making love, how could I expect our marriage to last? How could she look me in the eye? I couldn’t even meet my own gaze in the mirror.

That’s when I decided that I had to do something about it. I wasn’t going to let Steve Bannon’s mind games ruin the rest of my life. So I marched right into Bannon’s office and I said, “Listen, you magnificent son of a bitch, I want to know how you can suck your own cock and I want to know it now!” he smiled at me as a bit of white fluid escaped the corner of his mouth and he finished pulling his pants up and said, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?”

“Google Maps?” I responded, unsure of where this was going.

“What? No. Practice.” he said.

I walked down the hall right then and there to turn in my resignation to find that I’d already been fired. Fine with me, I thought. It was past time for me to work on myself. When I got back to my now empty home I removed all of my clothes, pulled up an episode of The Secret World of Alex Mack that really gets me going, pulled up Google Maps and started practicing. I don’t know how long it’s going to take and I don’t care. A job is a job, but the ability to suck your own dick? That’s a whole other level.

When this is all said and done, believe you me, I’m going to drain my own balls directly into my own stomach.