One of the most fulfilling aspects of self-pleasure done right is how deeply individual, totally personal it is. Your masturbatory preferences are completely yours, and you don't have to tell anyone whatever you need to get off on your own. No one needs to know that what really gets your rocks rolling is, say, a Seaside Woods Yankee Candle scenting up the joint, some Esperanza Spalding on the speakers, and a well-lubed, fully-charged Duke vibrating prostate massager on high jacked all the way up your rectum, taking full advantage of its taint-shaking action until you're jizzing so hard you might rip a hole in time. You can keep all that to yourself, if you choose. Or, you know, you can share it with the world. But it's your call. It doesn't hurt anyone either way.
The problem, of course, is when what it takes to get your peen stiff or your lips juicy is something that affects other people. It's one thing when your kinks are between you, your brain, and your happy spots, like watching blood porn (I have said many times, and I will say it again: if you google shit I mention, that's on you). Yeah, that's all well and good and consensual all around. You get to have your kinks and enjoy them. But if you're a particularly sick fuck, you get off on the actual misery of others.
Now we're not talking basic schadenfreude, you know, enjoying someone else's failures and fuckups, although I'm sure more than a few hundred thousand of us rubbed one out when Trump was finally, officially declared the loser of the 2020 election. Mostly, though, a good schadenfreude is like ice cream truck soft serve on a hot day. Sweet and fulfilling and you're fine moving on with your life.
But schadenfreude ain't enough for some. There's a depraved sexual thrill that MAGA cretins get in making the liberal snowflakes sad online. You know they have a bottle of lube next to the bed that they've re-labelled "Liberal Tears." You know they're already wanking furiously when they get on Twitter and troll someone successfully. "Fuck yeah, I got AOC upset by mocking her fear on January 6," they might say while jacking it. Or if they attack some regular person for posting sympathy with asylum seekers at the border and that person gets angry in return, man, that's foreplay. Time for the fist-shaped vibrator with Trump 2024 emblazoned on it, eh, Jessie Rae?
Which brings us, in a not-so-roundabout way, to Senator Kyrsten Sinema, ostensible Democrat from Arizona, who has never given a single fucking reason for why she's refusing to vote for the Democrats' budget reconciliation bill, other than "I don't like the cost" and not offering a goddamned alternative. The outline of the bill contains a transformative amount of spending on social programs, finally undoing some of the damage that Republicans have done since Reagan gutted the government's role in making people's lives better back in 1981.
And it's also gonna do some good in slowing down the out-of-control train that is climate change. Shit, Arizona faces becoming an unlivable wasteland within 30 years if things don't turn around really fuckin' quickly. Being from, you know, Arizona, you'd think that Sinema might give a fuck about her state turning into a dried up hellhole. But Sinema is too busy sucking down wine (no, really) while gobbling truckloads of corporate donor cash. Those fuckin' quirky-ass outfits aren't gonna buy themselves. Meanwhile, she's met four times with President Biden at the White House and issued a simpering, self-serving statement that essentially says nothing, moving the needle on the bill not a fucking inch.
While pundits and politicos try to figure out what the fuck her game is and what she wants, I can tell you. It's simple. And if you've read to this point, you know what it is: She's totally getting off on this. On the attention. On the rage other Democrats are feeling. On the power. On the way in which she's fucking with the lives of millions of people. Hell, she's probably loving that the people voted for her are ready to support a primary challenger. She's long had a perverse, ego-driven streak of doing shit just to piss everyone off.
You can just picture it: Sinema in a bright kimono on her silk covered bed after a warm bath, using her hand to caress her sopping self to a giant photo of John and Cindy McCain she has glued to the ceiling above her, intoning, "I'm a maverick, too, I'm a maverick, too," over and over, louder and louder, MSNBC on in the background as she hears Rep. Katie Porter tell Lawrence O'Donnell how wrong she is for being an obstructionist. Jesus, fuck, all she needs now is to flip over to Fox "news" and hear them praise her for not backing down and laugh at Democratic in-fighting and she'll have a screaming orgasm. Fuck, finish already.
Maybe then she'll be ready to fucking negotiate like the goddamn politician she's supposed to be. If not, take away the one thing she wants: the much-reduced bipartisan infrastructure bill she so proudly humped to life in an orgy with other bullshitters. Deny her the climax she desires.
