Enough With The Psychology Order Some Generic Viagra

Enough With The Psychology Order Some Generic Viagra



So, the other day-the very day before I ordered my first batch of​ Generic Viagra-I stopped in​ to​ see my psychologist. Yes, I have a​ psychologist, I admit it. For some reason, I only realized later that, oddly enough, the time I first signed up with him was the same time when I realized I was having problems getting an​ erection. Coincidence? I think not! Instead of​ being smart and ordering some Generic Viagra-that is, getting a​ medical treatment for a​ simple medical disorder-I decided to​ be all subtle and psychological. I was sure that it​ was a​ mental thing, even a​ subconscious thing. I didn't "want" it​ enough, or, perhaps, I wanted it​ too much! Maybe I couldn't "envision" myself with an​ erection, because I had a​ self-image problem. or​ maybe it​ was a​ Freudian thing. Maybe I had repressed memories of​ walking in​ on the "primal scene" between my parents, and was suffering insecurity, because I still saw my father as​ a​ sexual rival. The things we dream up instead of​ ordering Generic Viagra! Now, it​ all seems so foolish. First of​ all, I was never, never attracted to​ my mother, Dr. Freud! Dr. Freud can go get probed with a​ cigar, for all I care. I'm past that stage in​ my life. I got practical, and ordered Generic Viagra, and never looked back. Now the women in​ my life recognize me again in​ the bedroom.

What was the turning point? What made me break down and buy some Generic Viagra over the Internet? How did I break the cycle of​ self-pity and denial? Well, oddly enough, I had one hell of​ a​ good psychologist! Here's what happened during my final visit, when, out of​ nowhere, he cured me completely, by prescribing Generic Viagra. I walk in​ and stretch out on the couch, in​ front of​ another man (what was I thinking?!), then waited anxiously for him to​ probe my sub-consciousness. "You're deeply disturbed," he observed immediately. "Oh, yes I am, Dr.!" I admitted, then fell into complete hysterics. "I just can't get past the shame and the denial, and I feel that I have a​ messiah complex in​ the bedroom-I want to​ save her world, and redeem her, but I'm kept from doing so by my erectile dysfunction; I mean, I'd order some Generic Viagra, but I just think the problem runs a​ lot deeper than just some medical condition-I think it's a​ sort of​ Napoleon complex-I feel that I'm smaller than other men, because I'm eternally flaccid, and then I try to​ overcompensate by eating raw oysters and working out, and when that doesn't work, I feel inferior, and begin hating myself, and scolding my Johnson for his lack of​ empathy, because I feel that he's behaving selfishly, and that if​ I buy him some Generic Viagra, I'll just be an​ enabler, because I know he has a​ problem, but it's one he just needs to​ work through himself, without drugs or​ alcohol, and also, my mother didn't love me..."

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" the good doctor screamed, throwing his notepad to​ the floor. "Are you freaking crazy? YOU SOUND LIKE a​ WOMAN!" he howled. He took off his glasses and went on a​ full tirade. "Let me get this straight: you refuse to​ order Generic Viagra, because you ‘feel' that it​ might be ‘enabling' for ‘Mr. Johnson' to​ treat ‘him' for a​ simple medical problem? That's just crazy talk! Listen to​ yourself, man! Get a​ grip! Your mother didn't love you, and now you have erectile dysfunction? Your running around town eating raw oysters and holding hysterical arguments with your twig and berries in​ the shower? Go home right now and order some Generic Viagra. I never want to​ see you again, unless it's in​ a​ bar, somewhere where men gather. I'll be glad to​ listen to​ your sexual success stories over a​ beer. But I'm not listening to​ this psychobabble garbage anymore!"

Thank you, Doctor! Thank you!




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