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Donald Trump Is Full of Shit

A theory of the president’s terrible toilet trouble

I do not want to think about Donald Trump’s bowel movements.

Alas, he gives me no choice.

If you do not subscribe to the conspiracy theory that the president wears adult diapers, one is left to conclude that he primarily eliminates into a toilet. He routinely bolsters that assumption by ranting in rallies and meetings about his hatred for low-flow bathroom fixtures, and toilets in particular. Sometimes he tries to bring up showers and sinks, but you can tell it’s not as exciting for him. He wants to hit the toilet line even though he knows the media will ridicule him for it.

Trump’s specific charge against the toilets has vacillated, as his bullshit often does, though he’s partial to the number 15. According to him, that’s how many flushes it now takes to empty the bowl (of solid waste, we must infer). You could write this off as a red-meat punchline for his base; he revels in being crass, and for MAGA nation, there is an ideological resentment of any product designed to be energy-efficient or eco-friendly, no matter how well it may work. Yet I’m not convinced this is simple politics. Trump is too self-involved to keep bringing this up if it’s not, in some way, a personal issue. I believe it has taken 10 to 15 flushes to get rid of Trump’s feces.

Furthermore, we know that Trump’s own toilets are not defective in any way. The White House has had plumbing since the early 19th century and many improvements made to it since, including a total reinstallation after World War II. The Trumps themselves oversaw a record $1.75 million of renovations for the residence, with special attention paid to bathrooms; the First Lady allegedly refused to use the same toilet as the Obamas had in the master bathroom, and Trump made a habit of showing off the other restrooms once they’d been updated, among them his Oval Office lavatory. Do we really think he allowed plumbers to install low-flow toilets in any of these? Would he have delighted in giving tours to visitors if so? Entirely out of the question.

Which brings us to the dietary explanation. It is possible — even likely — that Trump’s infamously crappy diet, devoid of fruits and vegetables, results in a weekly turd of such size and density that he risks popping a blood vessel to expel it. This poop brick, neither fitting down the toilet pipe nor easily breaking apart, may have to be stirred by multiple flushes (and perhaps prodded by a plunger or other blunt instrument) before it’s reduced to chunks that can exit the bowl as intended. Maybe this is not a regular occurrence, but it cannot be altogether rare.

And here’s where I have to take a speculative leap. For in my heart of hearts, knowing all we do about Trump, I am certain that he does not flush at all. Trump has been leaving floaters for upwards of 40 years. He’s a busy germaphobe — someone else will have to flush it for him. Consider what he said at a campaign event in January when he got to the toilet material. “Ten times, right, ten times,” he said, once more referring to the need for extensive flushing. Then he pointed at some unfortunate guy in the crowd, adding: “Not me, of course not me. But you.” 

So, in brief: Trump thinks the flushing problem affects the Average Joe, not him. Which makes sense if, when he overhead a Secret Service agent complaining to a colleague that he had to flush “like 15 times” after the president used the bathroom without cleaning up after himself, Trump thought this conversation was about a different shit and toilet, and concluded that working stiffs all have completely ineffectual plumbing in their homes. “Hey, I can use that for rallies,” he realized, having no idea that his monster dumps were the inspiration for the bit.

There you have it — American history in action. Now I have to go stick my head in the toilet.