John McCain better organize another Republican National Convention. Better do it fast. Maybe by the end of the week.
Hell, it might be a good idea for him to host one or two each week until the election. Otherwise McCain-Palin doesn’t stand a chance…two bumbling idiots who can’t seem to do anything right aside from reading the script.
Since the dramatic convention – bolstered by the horny hoopla encompassing Palin hysteria – it’s been a jagged, sanity-ravaging journey for the Sidestep Express. Shit doesn’t look good. Looks like Heather Locklear might be driving.
Thus the need for mass distraction. Summon Karl Rove. Write a few noble speeches. Some good old fashion liberal bashing.
Somebody bleach Ann Coulter’s hair, give her a new push-up bra, and throw her on stage…those devil-worshipping libs want to give abortions to every pregnant teenager raised by Bible-defying faggots who want state-sponsored health care to pay for it!
Nothing else will suffice. Anything less would be a travesty. That’s the recipe for victory – not this “hope” and “change” bullshit.
Might be too late. The radical Obama has it in cruise control. A 500-million dollar sedan doing 110 through Chevy Chase…destination White House.
Did you see the poll numbers? More Americans thought that Muslim Barack appeared more presidential during the debates. More presidential than the man who’s been auditioning for the job for 25 years – Fucking unbelievable!
That’s the conversation being had in every McCain office across the country. Staffers are pocketing staplers and laptops. Volunteers are making off with phones and office furniture. Rusted pickup trucks are swarming the parking lots outside, ready for some serious knuckle-gouging campaign dumpster diving.
It’s a going out of business sale. Everything must go. And it’s gotta go now.
There’s no telling how long this charade can continue – not with the senile campaign McCain’s been running this past week. It all sounds pretty damn familiar, too.
This from the same guy who already canned nearly his entire staff earlier in the gauntlet. Pink slips going around McCain offices like Chlamydia at Delta Delta Gamma. Nobody was immune.
He ran his own campaign and things were ugly. No organization. No message. No game plan.
Yet he somehow survived long enough to actually claim the nomination – to the surprise of everybody except McCain himself…even Cindi called him a dumbass for running. And yet the creepy bastard actually won.
His campaign inspired absolutely no one, but he managed to steal a victory by outlasting a republican field entirely comprised of candidates who as children were never picked better than last in dodge ball.
Huckabee and Romney are still shaking their heads for blowing it…Jeb Bush and Newt Gingrich are kicking each other in the ass for miscalculating the republicans’ chances this year…Schwarzenegger’s taking Xanax by the bottle for not being a nationalist…
But despite his unlikely rise to the nomination, his unlikely surge in the polls behind his unlikely selection of a pair of 36-Cs from Alaska, McCain still figures to blow it all for making one stubborn-ass mistake again and again – making critical decisions without consulting anyone…anyone…not even the guys he’s paying to help him do just that.
Indeed, hubris is wrecking McCain’s campaign. It’s not a lack of money, message, or morale anymore. John McCain’s personal perception of John McCain’s decision-making abilities is dooming this campaign.
First he puts a moratorium on campaigning…then takes precious time for TV appearances…and then travels to the White House to listen as his colleagues discuss something they all actually know a thing or two about – the economy.
That could have only been McCain’s idea. No way Steve Schmidt’s throwing him to the wolves like that.
No way Schmidt said, “Senator, everyone knows you don’t know dick about the economy. You actually sound like a moron when you even bring it up. In fact, people laugh at you most of the time. It’s goddamn embarrassing, sir.
“But despite all that, we’d like to suspend your campaign and send you to Washington to help pass the biggest economic bailout in our nation’s history. We want to highlight your incredible lack of knowledge on the topic. It will be the focus of your campaign from here on out – the fact you failed economics twice in high school…and then once in the academy. It will scare the shit out of everyone. It will be fucking great.”
No way that happened. No goddamn way.
McCain even attempted to cancel the first presidential debate just to show people how freaking serious he was. That’s right. Instead of debating the economy during times of economic crisis, affording the country a prime opportunity to deduce which candidate has the better ideas, McCain wanted to cruise to Washington in order to discuss…the economy.
But he never really had a hand in it – no matter what his lackeys tried to claim on the Sunday morning news circuit. The only hands he had were the two he sat on while competent congressmen addressed the issue. He just watched. Occasionally called somebody an idiot. Almost forced the republican house members to back out.
And for it all, it’s Barack Obama who comes away looking like some economics Yoda, maybe Adam Smith – not McCain. Most people couldn’t tell you what role Barack even played in the discussion, they just know he didn’t almost sink the deal like McCain with his irritable politiking.
But McCain’s shitty week didn’t end there. That would’ve been too easy.
Remember when his campaign was actually surging like a breeding steed? Remember that? It was when he went door-to-door selling broken off-shore drilling policies…Drill, Baby, Drill!!!
Well, that bill passed on Saturday. America’s ban on off-shore drilling was lifted.
And John McCain could have been there for the ticker-tape parade…But he wasn’t. Didn’t even show up to vote for the bill that launched the resurgence of his campaign. Why? He was busy lifting his own ban. You know that one he put on his campaign last week.
Just another great decision by a man who’s ready to lead the country. Ready to lead the country into the nearest freaking loony bin.