When it comes to the notion ofcivically representing our downtrodden hordes of people not to mention a bigwigor two, I’m a big-picture kind of guy and sometimes I lose sight of anit-picking detail here and there that can be important to a successfulcampaign for higher officelike just when the hell the goddamn 2010 primaryelection is supposed to be, and what kind of shenanigans I got to pull to geton the official ballot. Yeah, I’m no stranger to the write-in campaign, butbetween you and me, I found that approach to be strictly for losers. Go figure.
I’m thinking that I ought to go consultwith my campaign brain trust so’s to smell if the wind is right for ananti-establishment common man like me with a heavy hankering for heavy-dutysocial Robin Hood socialism to be placed in a statewide or national position ofpower to the people.
So I’m headed over by theUptowner tavern/charm school situated at the Hysteric Corner of Center Street& Humboldtwhere today is always at least a day before tomorrow andyesterday may gosh darn well be today.
Come along if you’d like, but you buythe first round. Let’s get going.
Emil: Sothis Liz Cheneyshe’s the daughter of Dick, ain’a?
Little JimmyIodine: You got that right. She thinks nobody should get a lawyer ata trial if she or dad Dick have already decided the guy is focking guilty. Godbless America.
Herbie: JohnMcCain would’ve put her on the Supreme Court, pronto. We’ve never had a chubbyblond-haired Republican gal on the Court before, ain’a? It would’ve beenhistoric.
Ray: Remindsme of a story: Hot-shot lawyer calls the president just before midnight, gets an aideon the phone. Lawyer says he’s got to talk to the president ’cause it’s of theutmost urgency. Aide drags the president out of bed. Lawyer says, “Listen, Mr.President, I just heard that Justice Scalia died and I want to take his place.”President says, “Well sir, that’s more than fine by me if it’s okay with theundertaker.”
Ernie: Any you’sguys get that U.S. Census test yet?
Julius: Oh yeah, andwhat the fock, they sent me the long form, wouldn’t you know. And here in thepapers they had the stories about all the people complaining on the Census,worrying about the privacy and how come the government needs to know this andthat, blah-blah-blah, and I thought, “What a bunch of candy-ass crybabies.”Forget about it. I think the government alreadyknows everything on you thanks to George focking Bush, so big focking deal.
Herbie: Oh for christsakes, the government’s too stupid to know everything.
Ernie: Oh yeah? Youought to see some of the questions that were on the form they sent me: On ascale of one-to-ten, just how big of a jackass did you feel that time in eighthgrade when you skipped out of school with a bullshit excuse that said you hadto go to your aunt’s funeral, and then to learn that the next day she got runover by a bus on her way to deliver fresh-baked chocolate cookies to theorphanage, you lying sack of crap?
Julius: Hey, I gotquestions like that on my Census, too. Do you think the well-built gal wholives across the alley from you knows you spy on her with binoculars when she’sin her back yard sunbathing with her top off; not to mention whether or notyour wife knows that you secretly subscribe to the Web site www.SoapyCarWashingBimbos.com?Screw it. From now on in, I’m taking my computer into the bathroom and lockingthe door when I use it.
Little Jimmy: So whathappens if you don’t send your census back in?
Emil: Then you’reout of focking luck. Last time, I had the wife fill it out and she sent it inright away. She Xeroxed the entry about 10 times and sent those in too ’causeshe figures that’ll only increase our chances of winning.
Ray: What the fockare you talking aboutwin. Win what?
Emil: I don’t know.They forgot to put a prize sheet in our envelope.
Ernie: That’sbecause there aren’t any prizes, you focking knobshine.
Emil: You got to bejerking my beefaroni. You fill out that form and there’s no chance to winsomething like a boat, or furniture or something? What the fock. You know, Ithought there was something fishyno prize sheet. I almost called the bureaufor that better business. How come the goddamn government doesn’t do somethingabout this kind of royal screw job?
Herbie: Because thatform was from the goddamn government,you sausage head. You don’t win anything from the government just by fillingout a form. You got to give money to a politician in his election if you wantto get a prize from the goddamn government. What the hell is wrong with you?
Little Jimmy Iodine: Hey,Artie! Over here. Put a load on your keister.
Art: Hey, gents.What do you know, what do you hear.
Ray: Here’s toArtie, for letting us charge thesedrinks to his campaign finance committee!
Art: Screw taxes.Don’t give that money to the government. Give it to me, instead. I’m apolitician.
(Hey, it’s getting late and I know yougot to go, but thanks for letting us bend your ear ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek andI told you so.)
