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Primary Colors for the social media era, the wildly profane, viral phenomenon that resulted from a fake Twitter account deftly satirizing Rahm Emanuel is the first significant Twitter epic in today’s digital age.
Primary Colors for the social media era, the wildly profane, viral phenomenon that resulted from a fake Twitter account deftly satirizing Rahm Emanuel is the first significant Twitter epic in today’s digital age.
With web sensations such as Stuff White People Like and Sh*t My Dad Says making the leap from the Internet to the bestseller lists, it’s no surprise that this unique and hilarious first-person account of Rahm Emanuel’s fake mayoral campaign via Twitter has already been featured in The Atlantic, Wired, The Colbert Report, and is still an unfolding story. Now, fans can read the entire six months of collected tweets of @MayorEmanuel with commentary and annotations from creator Dan Sinker.
When rumors circulated that Rahm Emanuel would enter the Chicago mayor’s race, suddenly the “real” Rahm became overshadowed by a decidedly different Rahm, @MayorEmanuel. Via Twitter, this fake Rahm spun a faux-insider’s story unlike any other—in real time. Garnering a passionate following on Twitter and hailed by the press, @MayorEmanuel’s journey is an entertaining, modern-day anti-hero's quest as he travels a surrealistic Chicago landscape, picking up friends along the way, including advisor David Axelrod, Carl the Intern (a high-school-aged MacGyver), a puppy named Hambone, and a duck named Quaxelrod, to name a few.
Both a surprisingly literary romp as well as an inside peek into an historic mayoral race, The F***ing Epic Twitter Quest of @MayorEmanuel is a bold and exciting foray into a new form of participatory, real-time storytelling.
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.43(h) x 0.70(d)|
About the Author
Dan Sinker is an assistant professor at Columbia College in Chicago. A writer, designer, and programmer, Sinker is the founder and developer of the local election tracker ChicagoMayoralScorecard.com, the mobile storytelling project CellStories.net, and the founding editor of the influential underground culture magazine Punk Planet, which published from 1994 to 2007. He lives in Chicago with his wife and son.
Read an Excerpt
Rumors and Innuendo
Monday, September 27, 2010
fuck you right in your fucking face-hole. 09:52:09 PM
And so it began, late in the evening, as news organizations started publishing rumors that Rahm Emanuel would be leaving his position as President Obama’s chief of staff to throw his hat into the ring for Chicago’s mayoral race. It would be the first competitive race in 21 years, following the announcement by mayor-for-life Richard M. Daley that he would not seek another four years in office.
Someone tell those fuckwads at @politico to shut their fucking trap, or I’ll fucking END THEM. 10:11:12 PM
Politico was the first to break the story, followed quickly by the rest of the political press.
Hey you douchebags at @ChicagoTribune, I’ll fucking announce when I fucking announce. 10:22:18 PM
This was the first, and only, @MayorEmanuel Tweet that I retweeted via @DanSinker. It made its way around Twitter pretty quickly, and @MayorEmanuel’s follower count began to tick upwards rapidly.
Someone tell @joshtpm to shut his asshole before I have to hop an Acela Express and do it my goddamn self. 10:29:16 PM
Josh Marshall at Talking Points Memo had picked up the Emanuel rumor story, as it quickly spread across the news.
If the Bears fuck this up, my entire platform is going to revolve around burning that stadium to the fucking ground. 10:34:24 PM
Goddamn right Bears win. 10:48:25 PM
The Chicago Bears beat their archrivals the Green Bay Packers 20–17. It’s worth noting at this early point that I know nothing about sports. But if you’re running for Mayor of Chicago, you’d better, so I followed the outcomes of all the Bears games on—where else—Twitter. Thank god this wasn’t written in late spring, when I would have had to follow the outcomes of Cubs, Sox, Bulls, and Blackhawks games simultaneously.
Hey @jaketapper, you wanna talk “breaking,” how about I break my foot off inside your colon? 10:58:01 PM
ABC News’s Senior White House Correspondent Jake Tapper had just tweeted “BREAKING—Rahm Emanuel Likely to Leave White House This Week.”
I swear to god, if I never have to see another cherry blossom as long as I goddamn live, it’ll still be too fucking soon. 11:06:24 PM
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Shit-screw you in your fucking cock-hole. 12:07:17 AM
Cocking shit-shiners it’s late. 12:43:32 AM
And with that, day one ended. The follower count was around 500. Up from zero in three hours.
Gonna cram that sheriff’s star so far up Dart’s intestine that when he shits it’ll look like the constellation Orion. 07:35:32 AM
Mayor Daley announced that he wouldn’t run for reelection on September 7, 2010. By the 10th, news reports had Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart considering getting into the race. The Chicago Sun-Times quoted him as saying, “Voters know who I am; they appreciate a lot of the things we’ve done, so I think I do have the ability to have some ‘head start’ on some people.” Prior to Emanuel announcing, Dart was at or near the top of polls.
Also, Sneed: stop talking about yourself in the third person or I swear to god, I will break my dick off and fuck you in the hair follicles. 07:37:46 AM
Michael Sneed is the leading political gossip reporter in Chicago. She writes about herself exclusively in the third person.
These people are fucking joking, right? Give me back my fucking house, or I will burn it down around you. 07:44:21 AM
When he left Congress to become Obama’s chief of staff, the Emanuels (he is married with two children) rented their home in Chicago’s Ravenswood neighborhood. That morning Sneed led with a report that the tenants in Emanuel’s rental house were refusing to break their lease and allow Emanuel to move back into his home.
You know who I’m not going to miss at all? Mitch McConnell. That guy is the king of the fucking pansy-shitters. 07:50:48 AM
Mitch McConnell is the minority leader in the US Senate. He’s the first of many Washington regulars that @MayorEmanuel realizes he’ll soon be free of.
Some mornings coffee is like standing underneath a twat-rainbow while fucking a thousand puppies in the mouth. 08:22:32 AM
The first, and most graphic, of @MayorEmanuel’s many coffee Tweets. Over the course of the feed, @MayorEmanuel would tweet about coffee another 69 times. Some of this was character logic: he’s passionate about everything, so why not coffee too? Some of it was to help spread the account around Twitter: people would pass the coffee Tweets around rapid-fire. And part of it was that I really, really like coffee.
Jesus shit-Christ is it awkward around the office today. 09:24:03 AM
Wait a second: who the fuck holds a fucking election in Chicago in fucking FEBRUARY? 09:42:49 AM
We’re all supposed to go out there with our dicks swinging in the snow? 09:45:54 AM
I will miss sneaking juice boxes with Sasha. 12:01:36 PM
I always liked the image of Emanuel and Sasha Obama sipping juice boxes in the White House Rose Garden.
Most of the lunch briefing was spent deciding whether I should drive down K Street yelling “Sayonara, bitches!” Or “Fuck you very much!” 02:21:05 PM
K Street is the epicenter for lobbyists and think tanks in Washington, DC.
Christ, the fuck train got derailed on its way to bullshit junction today. I blame Duncan. 02:43:54 PM
That’d be Arne Duncan, former CEO of the Chicago Public Schools, who was tapped to join Obama in Washington as the secretary of education. Fun fact: Duncan used to play professional basketball in Australia.
Another thing about Duncan: for being so tall, that guy is a fucking pussy when it comes to the head-fake. Makes him jump every goddamn time. 02:50:11 PM
When you’re writing in 140 character bursts, visual gags work really well. The idea of @MayorEmanuel tossing out head-fakes was easy, visual shorthand for his aggressive personality.
Axelrod tells me “Who replaced Chicago with this shitfest?” isn’t a good slogan. 03:32:45 PM
This was the first appearance of David Axelrod, who at the time was President Obama’s chief strategist, having architected his campaign for president. Before entering the national spotlight with Obama’s presidential campaign, Axelrod had been a longtime political strategist. Prior to entering politics, he was city hall reporter for the Chicago Tribune in the early 1980s. He also sports a sweet Chicago-style mustache, which was the real motivating factor in incorporating him into the story. Axelrod was not actually directly involved in the Emanuel campaign in the way portrayed in the @MayorEmanuel story. He stayed in Washington, DC, though was seen in Chicago regularly during the mayoral race (and moved back in January 2011 to set up the Obama 2012 reelection headquarters in Chicago). His former political media firm AKP&D Message and Media (he’s the “A,” but he sold his interest when he joined the Obama administration) was paid millions by the Emanuel campaign to provide both media strategy and campaign consulting.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I really fucking hope that I get to stay on hold with Comcast Chicago all goddamn day. Yes, please, transfer me again. 09:31:31 AM
So Axelrod is blathering on about a “new Burnham plan” and I just look him square in the eye and say, “Fuck you, you fucking mustache-face.” 10:02:20 AM
I’m not a motherfucking giant Snoopy balloon, so I will not appear at your motherfucking parade. 11:00:51 AM
This little trio of Tweets showed the challenges of moving back to Chicago and running for mayor beginning to come into focus for @MayorEmanuel: dealing with strategy sessions, being asked to appear at civic events, and hooking up utilities. All treated with equal amounts of disdain.
Geithner never stops talking. You can be standing there, double birds in his face and your cock hanging out, and he’s all blah blah blah … 12:04:28 PM
Timothy Geithner is the US secretary of the Treasury.
I would rather lick the balls of the entire Chicago city counsel than have to deal with the fuck-nuggets in the House for another 10 minutes. 02:25:23 PM
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Shitting cock-face, I stayed up way too late watching “Must Love Dogs” again. And I gotta deal with fucking Vilsack in the morning. Fuck me. 12:33:06 AM
Tom Vilsack is the US secretary of agriculture.
—a-doodle-doo, assholes. Wake the fuck up. 06:37:11 AM
If Dick Mell leaves another VM promising to be a “kingmaker,” I’m going to pry all the keys off this phone and stuff them up his urethra. 08:13:03 AM
Dick Mell is a longtime member of Chicago’s city council. He was elected in 1975 and continues to serve on the council. Fun Fact: Mell’s daughter Patricia is married to embattled former governor of Illinois Rod Blagojevich.
I walked into the briefing today, birds up, and said “Hey snatch-warblers, you’ve only got one day left with this bitch.” It’s official. 12:06:38 PM
News reports had confirmed that Emanuel would be leaving the White House to run for mayor of Chicago. He’d be replaced by Pete Rouse, a senior advisor to the president and, up until news reports named him, someone whom many casual political observers had never heard of. I know I never had.
Jesus fuck-Christ, I told them that if they’re going to go with Rouse, they’ll have to find another billion in the budget for donut runs. 12:19:10 PM
Apparently they went with Rouse because the potted fucking bamboo in the fucking East Room was too busy. Too bad, the bamboo says more. 12:32:25 PM
Another thing about Rouse: hope you like your morning briefings around 11:45, because cock-asses that motherfucker can sleep in. 12:48:03 PM
Gibbs keeps looking at me and his eyes well up, like he’s eating the dong-berries right off the pussy-bush. 02:15:30 PM
Robert Gibbs was the White House press secretary.
I would rather slam my dick in a door than look at the motherfucking yard sign samples Plouffe just e-mailed. 02:59:58 PM
David Plouffe, who was a chief campaign manager for Obama’s election, appeared exclusively in this story in e-mails, faxes, and texts. This reflected the way many people experienced Plouffe: as a name in their in-box during the 2008 presidential campaign. Searching my Gmail, I had over 100 e-mails from Plouffe. In thinking about staffing up @MayorEmanuel’s campaign, I decided that Plouffe would remain a virtual presence, just as he had for many of us in real life. To the best of my knowledge, Plouffe was not involved in the Emanuel campaign in real life, though he is the “P” in AKPD Message and Media, David Axelrod’s consulting firm.
Salazar just came up with a fruit basket. Ken, unless you want me to insert these into your colon one-by-one, get the fuck out of my face. 04:58:37 PM
Ken Salazar is the US secretary of the interior.
Been eating Fiber One all day so I’ve got enough shit to go around tomorrow. Lieberman, be sure to check your mail: you just got shit-boxed. 07:52:26 PM
Joe Lieberman was a formerly Democratic senator from Connecticut who ran as an independent after losing the 2006 Democratic primary.
Last goddamn night in this fucking shit-coffin of a town. 10:19:44 PM
Friday, October 1, 2010
Thank god it’s motherfucking shit-scratching cock-bleeding Friday. 07:40:47 AM
This was it, the morning of Emanuel’s departure from the White House. He met privately with the staff (where he was presented with a dead Asian carp wrapped in newspaper, echoing a mythic Emanuel moment, when he mailed a dead fish to a pollster who made him angry) and would then be publicly feted by the president himself. This was also the first of dozens of posts celebrating Friday—they would soon shift to end-of-work-week posts, usually tweeted right at 5:00.
Dear Washington Press Corps, suck it out of my asshole, you fucking third-rate, cock-handed, twat-cobbler hacks. I will miss you not at all. 08:58:44 AM
“Suck it out of my asshole” was a nod to the Fake Steve Jobs character penned by tech journalist Dan Lyons—his character used the phrase so often he shortened it to “SIOOMA.”
Hey Steny Hoyer, check your mail today: You just got shit-boxed. And I’m sure there’s enough in there to pass around. 09:04:13 AM
Steny Hoyer was House majority leader from 2007 to 2011.
LaHood just pulled up in his fucking electric clown car. This fucking ceremony is going to last a dong-capping lifetime isn’t it? 09:15:12 AM
Ray LaHood is the US secretary of transportation.
Rouse just waddled up, panting like a leg-fucking schnauzer. “Sorry I’m late.” Yeah, you fuck-hat, I’m sure you are. 09:32:43 AM
Only thing getting me through this fucking thing is knowing my shaking hand is covered in cock sweat. 09:45:33 AM
Vilsack’s halitosis is like breathing through a scuba tank full of dongs. 10:01:05 AM
DCA > OR-MF-D. 10:37:31 AM
Presidential speech out of the way, Emanuel was off to Chicago.
There is a pothole on the fucking Kennedy Expressway that I swear just made me cough up my sphincter. 03:47:15 PM
23 cock-socked, twat-fingered voicemails from Plouffe. In two hours! How many more before he figures out I’m not fucking answering? 04:26:44 PM
“Hey Rahm, David. I was thinking about strategies for the 32nd ward …” Fucking dick-trimming shit-sorcerers, I’m going to toss this phone. 04:32:18 PM
Home. I’m going to crack open this Half Acre tallboy, pop in Serendipity, and put my feet up. Fuck all of you in your cock-soaked armpits. 04:58:04 PM
Friday, October 1, 2010
Muff-shitting fuck-towers. 09:46:05 AM
It’s @MayorEmanuel’s first full day in Chicago, and many local political figures are stopping by his house, trying to catch a meeting. I have no idea if this is how the real Rahm’s first day was, but I’m sure there were a lot of meetings over the first few days.
Thing I like about Quigley: that the dong-fountain calls me “sir.” Thing I don’t like: motherfucker thinks Saturday is a good day to drop by. 10:00:01 AM
Mike Quigley won Rahm Emanuel’s vacated congressional seat in 2009.
I would rather snap a mousetrap inside my own asshole than take a meeting with Jody fucking Weis. 04:12:01 PM
Jody Weis was the superintendent of police for Chicago.
The top-fucking fuck-topper: Burke. 05:21:31 PM
Ed Burke is the longest continually serving alderman from a single ward in Chicago, having first been elected to office in 1969. He is the chair of the finance committee, and an extremely powerful and influential figure in the city council. But this was probably my least favorite Tweet of all of them. The concept was that Burke just shows up and @MayorEmanuel is immediately filled with dread, but it just didn’t work—it fell flat. Capturing emotion in 140 characters was difficult at first.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Axelrod has been standing outside my house in the rain all fucking day. Stopped knocking hours ago. What a shit-sad mustache he’s got on. 08:18:12 PM
A cold, rainy October night? Someone tell Axelrod to pack his charts and head fucking home, I’m watching “1408.” Boo, you fucking cock-tards. 09:05:37 PM
Every film referenced to this point was a lesser-known film from John Cusack’s catalog. This was a very early attempt at Chicago-related—Cusack grew up in the Chicago suburb of Evanston—character development.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Holy fuck-smacks, where’s the shit-coughing coffee? 08:33:44 AM
183 e-mails from Plouffe later, and the suck-fucking webtards still made a site that looks like Barack’s. 01:30:32 PM
Emanuel’s campaign website, chicagoforrahm.com, debuted and its color scheme and font choice made it look very similar to the Obama 2008 campaign site.
Axelrod’s shooting my “special video announcement” (WTF?) for tomorrow. Wants me to say “Daley’s stewardship” and I keep saying “sewer-shit.” 01:47:54 PM
If Axelrod says “… and action!” one more time like he’s Martin fucking Scorsese I’m going to cram his Flipcam into his fucking colon. 02:43:55 PM
If Axelrod doesn’t get back here with a Home Run Inn deep dish before the game starts, I’m going to dunk his fucking head in the fuck-tank. 06:36:59 PM
I received approximately two dozen Tweets in response to this one, pointing out that the Home Run Inn, a longtime Chicago pizza place on Chicago’s Southwest Side, doesn’t actually serve deep dish. Totally caught doing shitty research, the only reply I could come up with was “maybe not for YOU.”
Solis just stopped by and was all, “Oh, you guys are watching the game?” Now I’m chucking my chicken wing gristle at his huge fucking head. 08:25:29 PM
Danny Solis is an alderman in Chicago, and the head of the zoning commission.
Jesus fucking Christ-on-a-Cock, could this Bears game be any more fucking boring? Helen Shiller plays better motherfucking ball than this. 09:00:37 PM
Helen Shiller is one of the more vocal left-leaning aldermen in Chicago.
Plouffe e-mailed to say that even if my listening tour tomorrow is spent listening to cock-bulbs complain about this game, I still have to go. 09:19:03 PM
Fucking dong-choke, if I was invited to a zoning board meeting right now I’d go in a heartbeat—has to be more exciting than this game. 09:26:03 PM
Fuck this game right in its fucking shit-sack. Axelrod had the right idea: He fell asleep in the middle of the first quarter. 10:32:43 PM
The Bears lost to the New York Giants 17–4 in a game that the Chicagoist called “the ugliest game we’ve ever seen.”
Monday, October 4, 2010
I’m going to have to drink an entire fucking bottle of Purell when I get home from all this shit-blasting hand-shaking. 10:33:41 AM
This was the first day of Emanuel’s “Tell It Like It Is” tour of Chicago. Even though he was sent off from Washington in style—a hug from the president, even—he didn’t actually announce that he was running for mayor. This listening tour was the first event in a very orchestrated run-up to an official announcement.
Jesus shit-painting nut-Christ, February is way fucking far away. 04:08:05 PM
What I learned on today’s listening tour: You know what’s wrong with Chicago? Every fucking motherfucking thing. 04:32:28 PM
After consulting with this four-pack of Gossamer Ale, it’s decided: Axelrod’s mustache can do the fucking listening tour on its own tomorrow. 07:39:42 PM
Gossamer Ale is brewed by local Chicago craft brewers Half Acre. It is delicious.
Frick-fucking crimp-cramming dick-jammers. 08:26:45 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Jesus fuck-chomping Christ, everything’s shit-shape today. 08:32:32 AM
Text from Plouffe: “Try to grimace less when shaking hands.” One of these days I’m going to give that motherfucker a reason to grimace. 08:47:01 AM
Who the fuck is in charge of cleaning the CTA stations? Because at this point I wouldn’t mind taking a fucking meeting with that asshole. 09:18:37 AM
The actual Rahm Emanuel visited every single CTA L station (the L is the public train system in Chicago, so named because much of the line is elevated aboveground) during his campaign, many of them multiple times. Most of them are not very clean.
Shitting-fuck-sausage. How do you fucking people eat like this? 11:58:00 AM
The early days of Emanuel’s listening tour seemed to be exclusively focused on public transportation and lunch places.
Please, fucking pretty please with fucking sugar on top, stuff your camera into my face again, you fucking snatch-hole. 01:28:15 PM
Just fucking perfect: Axelrod’s Civic just broke down in Chinatown. Again. Cock-stump. 02:21:26 PM
This was the first appearance of Axelrod’s trusty 1994 Honda Civic. I have no idea what kind of car the real David Axelrod drives, or ever drove, but I owned a white ’94 Civic for years. This fictional car was based on that real one.
Manny Flores just drove by and chucked a can at me while Axelrod’s trying to change this tire. Fucking. Worst. Fucking. Day. Fucking. Ever. 03:10:45 PM
Manny Flores is a former alderman who now serves as the director of the Illinois Department of Financial and Professional Regulation. He was another early name in the mayoral race, going so far as to collect signatures for the ballot.
Christ, when this day is over, I’m going to devour an entire Eli’s fucking cheesecake like I’m a motherfucking Cathy cartoon. Ack! 03:32:5
When the Emanuel campaign released its campaign finance records in January, it turned out they’d spent almost $15,000 on Eli’s Cheesecake.
Shrimp-sock fish-cock. I’m done with this fucking day. 08:12:30 PM
Talk to the Cock
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Whichever one of you motherfuckers got me sick, you can go vote for Rickey fucking Hendon. To the rest of you—who’s got some fucking soup? 07:10:01 AM
Former State Senator Rickey Hendon was another early name in the mayoral race. Hendon, a longtime presence in the local and state political scene, resigned his seat in February 2011. On a national level, he’s probably best known for getting into an argument about a vote with Barack Obama, when they both were state senators, that reportedly ended with Obama having “to be physically restrained.”
Sick, wearing nothing but a fucking bathrobe, going to meet with the Tribune Editorial Board. “That’s their dress code,” e-mails Plouffe. 10:10:17 AM
The same day that Emanuel was scheduled to meet with the influential paper’s editorial board, the New York Times dropped a major story about the Tribune Company, “At Flagging Tribune, Tales of a Bankrupt Culture.” It was a greatest-hits collection of sordid stories from the Tribune Tower, many circulating around the boorish behavior of then-Tribune company CEO Randy Michaels.
Apparently it’s just me and Randy Michaels in bathrobes at the Tribune Tower. The king of the fucking ass-clowns. Great. Thanks, Plouffe. 11:25:48 AM
Michaels keeps interrupting the board’s questions by standing up, opening his bathrobe and yelling “TALK TO THE COCK!!” Fucking fuck fuckers. 12:34:47 PM
I would rather punch myself in the cock every hour on the hour than have to sit through something that humiliating again. Fucktard Tower. 02:53:57 PM
Fucking fuck-shitting motherfucking shit-fuck motherfuckers. 03:17:34 PM
Yes, alderman, I am fucking delighted to have dinner at Harold’s Chicken Shack. These motherfucking arteries aren’t going to clog themselves. 05:54:01 PM
Waguespack keeps jogging by my house. Little short-shorts. I’m just standing in the front yard, birds up, waiting for the motherfucker. 07:49:31 PM
Alderman Scott Waguespack was another early contender in the mayoral race. In all, Progress Illinois, which tracked early movement in the race, had more than 40 names on its list of potential candidates.
And there he fucking goes a-fucking-gain: jog-jog-jog. WHAT THE FUCK?! 07:56:15 PM
I’m going to go for a jog up Waguespack’s motherfucking colon if he comes back around again. 08:03:52 PM
Fuck it. I’m fucking sick. I’m fucking tired. It’s a fucking “America’s Sweethearts” kind of night. 09:59:54 PM
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Tick-tock, shit-cocks. Time to wake up. 07:28:54 AM
Dow over 11,000 on the same day I’m going on a listening tour of Penny Pritzker’s pocketbook? Eyes on the sky for a twat-rainbow. Trifecta! 08:02:21 AM
Chicago billionaire Penny Pritzker is the most visible member of the Pritzker family, one of the richest families in America. It seems like almost everything in Chicago, from the bandshell in Millennium Park to a public school to a military museum, is named after the Pritzkers. Penny donates a lot of time and money to political candidates, including her own former service as the finance chair of Obama’s presidential campaign (and she was at one point considered to be a top contender for commerce secretary). She also serves on a number of high-profile nonprofit boards in Chicago and, after Emanuel was elected mayor, was appointed to the Chicago Board of Education.
Penny keeps a money room in her house, and dives into it like she’s Scrooge McDuck. We’ve been swimming in it all morning. Fucking glorious. 11:19:38 AM
Nothing like a money-swim to get a guy feeling in cock-shape again. Axelrod, pull your Civic around: I’ve got some fucking hands to shake. 12:11:04 PM
Just got cut off on West Madison by a fucking cupcake truck. Eighth one I’ve seen. The fuck is up with you and cupcakes you fucking fatties? 12:30:40 PM
OK, West Garfield Park, come get your hand shaken. I promise when elected you’ll see me less than you see the inside of a unicorn’s vagina. 01:10:34 PM
Dinner with Obama at Alexi fundraiser. Fucking Alexi—getting caught chatting with him is like being sucked into a black hole of cocks. 04:05:56 PM
That’s Alexi Giannoulias, Democratic candidate for Senate, who was running to fill Barack Obama’s old seat, a seat the GOP desperately wanted to win. Giannoulias, the candidate Democrats chose to defend it, found himself embroiled in controversy surrounding his family’s failed bank (it was shut down by the FDIC two weeks after Giannoulias won the Democratic primary). In a year in which the economy and federal bank bailout played heavily in the election, it wasn’t a great situation to be in.
If Obama doesn’t show soon, I’m out. Have been stuck inside the Giannoulias dong-vortex for a motherfucking hour now. 05:34:28 PM
Emanuel was actually not at the Giannoulias fund-raiser. In fact, according to ABC 7, “Emanuel was told to keep a low profile so as not to upstage the president and Alexi Giannoulias.”
Alexi is “entertaining” the guests by seeing how many dinner rolls he can stuff in his fucking mouth. He’s up to seventeen. 05:59:01 PM
Jesus Christ-on-a-fuck, that’s four hours of my life I’m never going to get back. Alexi is as dumb as the fucking day is fucking long. 07:42:27 PM
By the way, the final motherfucking bread-roll count? Thirty-fucking-two. In at once. Mama Regenstein vomited into the salad plate. 07:51:16 PM
The Regensteins, like the Pritzkers, are another hyper-wealthy Chicago family. They even have an ape house named after them. I have no idea who “Mama” Regenstein is.
Fucking cock-sanding shit-branding, I am tired. 10:22:57 PM
Friday, October 8, 2010
Good motherfucking morning, motherfuckers. 07:01:29 AM
Strategy session. Axelrod thinks “I want to be like motherfucking Rahm” is a bad campaign slogan. The fuck? It worked for Jordan. 08:49:21 AM
Bulls legend Michael Jordan was featured in a series of Gatorade commercials in the 1990s where kids proclaimed they wanted to “be like Mike.”
Axelrod also dismissed Ari’s idea of a movie where politicians team up with cartoon characters to fight an intergalactic menace. Fuck fuck. 09:09:02 AM
The 1996 film Space Jam featured Michael Jordan and the Looney Toons. IMDb spells out the plot succinctly: “Michael Jordan agrees to help the Looney Toons play a basketball game vs. alien slavers to determine their freedom.” So there’s that.
Axelrod says no way: “Remember when the Bulls won for the sixth time and it felt like getting fucked on a pile of ponies? Vote Rahm.” 09:20:47 AM
How did you know that listening to you bitch was exactly what I wanted to do on a beautiful fucking Friday? 03:47:30 PM
The listening tour continued.
Why is it the only fucking places I find you people are riding the L or stuffing your fucking face? Or, worse, both? 03:51:54 PM
I will tell you this though: stand on a fucking L platform long enough and you will see every shade of vomit known to man. Vibrant! 04:04:05 PM
I just became the mayor of Fuck You in the Fucking Face, it’s Friday on @foursquare. 04:13:40 PM
Axelrod’s on his way over with a bucket of chicken, a growler of Half Acre and his copy of “2012.” TGIMFF. 06:24:11 PM
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Plouffe just faxed over the itinerary. I’ve got to hit 13 farmer’s markets. Here’s a secret: edible greens scare the shit out of me. Fuck. 08:47:35 AM
Jesus motherfucking Christ, I hope to never see another winter squash in my motherfucking life. Fuck you and your fucking farmer’s markets. 05:20:29 PM
Also, Chicago, what the fuck is up with all the baby strollers? Did you spend the two goddamn years I was gone just fucking nonstop? 06:11:24 PM
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Christ, I’m going to have to shake a lot of fucking sweaty hands today, aren’t I? First sign of bloody nipples and I’m fucking GONE. 08:47:30 AM
The first Chicago Marathon was run on Saturday, September 23, 1905, less than a decade after the first Olympic marathon. Some 38,132 runners ran in the 2010 race.
I know I’m supposed to say you’re all heroic athletes, but I just saw a guy in a chicken suit puke up a Clif Bar at mile fucking three. 09:15:19 AM
Congratulations, marathon runners! You’re 26.2 miles closer to a motherfucking knee replacement! 05:19:23 PM
Axelrod’s mustache finished the cock-shocking marathon in 5:38. 07:18:18 PM
Just looked over Plouffe’s itinerary for the week. It is fucktacularly stupid. How long does this goddamn listening tour have to last again? 09:23:28 PM
Talk to the Disembodied Hand
Monday, October 11, 2010
So which godforsaken corner of this motherfucking city am I headed to today in this never-ending dick-slamming tour? 08:14:35 AM
I refuse to choke down another fucking pepper and egg sandwich. Seriously, how has this entire city not died from a coronary? 09:26:29 AM
The pepper-and-egg is a uniquely Chicagoan breakfast: it’s scrambled eggs and green peppers stuffed inside a toasted French bread roll. Mozzarella cheese is optional. Local history assigns the invention of the pepper-and-egg sandwich to the influx of Catholic immigrants from Italy looking for a meal to replace meat on Fridays during Lent. Like many Chicago culinary delights, it is incredibly delicious. And it will kill you dead one day.
Dick Mell is the king of the pepper and egg. Eats three or four of them every morning. Ends up smelling like a sulfur bath all day. 09:33:14 AM
Seriously considering having my shaking hand amputated and sending it around the city alone so I can get some actual fucking work done. 05:38:33 PM
Hey, Sauganash, come shake the disembodied hand of Rahm Emanuel tomorrow, while I’m busy not giving a fuck about you somewhere else. 05:43:42 PM
Sauganash is a neighborhood on the far northwest side of the city.
Fucking seriously, doesn’t Flores have any “listening” to do? Come on: Carol Moseley Braun doesn’t have to “listen” to any motherfuckers? 06:02:54 PM
That would be one-term Senator Carol Moseley Braun, the first (and only) African-American woman elected to the US Senate. Elected to the Senate in 1992, she served as ambassador to New Zealand after she lost reelection, and briefly ran for the Democratic nomination for president in 2004. Since then, she’s maintained a low profile, running a small coffee and tea import business in Chicago called Ambassador Organics. Her entrance into the mayoral race, which happened before Emanuel’s, took many by surprise, as she’d effectively been out of local politics since her Senate win.
Yet here I am fucking “listening” to all you fucking v-holes prattle on and on about fucking potholes and parking meters every fucking day. 06:05:04 PM
New slogan: “Hey Chicago: Just park in the fucking space and be done with it. Emanuel ’11.” 06:09:17 PM
Mayor Daley leased the rights to the parking meters in a spectacularly awful 75-year deal worth $1.16 billion. While the sketchy specifics of the actual deal were reported widely after the fact, what most people were up in arms about was the fact that it replaced meters with pay boxes, and you’d have to walk an entire half-block to pay. People were really pissed about that.
Scowling through the Columbus Day Parade, Ed Burke said I had a case of the Mondays. More like the Can’t-Fucking-Stand-You Days. 08:59:28 PM
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Someone fucking needs to fucking bring me a fucking coffee this very fucking second. 08:12:56 AM
Jesus fucking cock-twats: Biden is in town? Fucking Christ, I’ll be hiding out in a goddamn undisclosed location for the rest of the day. 12:59:35 PM
Vice President Joe Biden came to Chicago to stump for Illinois Governor Pat Quinn, who took over as governor when Rod Blagojevich was arrested for attempting to sell Barack Obama’s former Senate seat. Quinn was running for his first elected term as governor.
Would someone fucking pledge to WBEZ already so those sad fucking radio-tards will shut the fuck up? 05:10:32 PM
WBEZ is the major public radio station in Chicago.
The “Stuck in a Mine” Strategy
Fuck yes, you Chilean miner sons-of-bitches, fuck yes. 11:00:01 PM
News had just broken that 33 Chilean miners, stuck in a collapsed gold and copper mine for 69 days, were about to be rescued.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
New slogan: “Because Chicago is in a deeper fucking hole than the fucking Chilean miners. Vote Rahm.” 08:49:19 AM
I’ve got Axelrod looking into where to get one of those miner rescue elevators so I can ride one around Ed Burke’s lower fucking intestine. 08:55:23 AM
If you need me today, I’ll be at home watching CNN and bawling like a motherfucking baby. 09:35:22 AM
Been on BBM with Plouffe, selling him on my “stuck in a mine” strategy. (1) don’t have to shake fucking hands; (2) in 90 days you’ll love me. 05:01:22 PM
Axelrod just came over and we’re both wearing hard hats and only eating food we can cram through a motherfucking 6” hole. This is the life. 05:41:28 PM
You would be amazed just how many different kinds of food you can stuff through a 6” hole. Axelrod got an entire fucking turkey through. 07:58:27 PM
I find the Chilean miner rescue incredibly moving. Once this last guy is up, we’re going to send ’em all back down, right? Fuck yes. 08:00:54 PM
So everyone’s up from the mine? Jesus fucking Christ-twat … now what? 10:25:59 PM
Every miner was brought up, one at a time, from the mine in a 21?-diameter capsule, a ride that took 15 minutes.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I woke up with a hard hat in my hands, looked up at the hole Axelrod and I drilled in the ceiling, and just started fucking weeping. Emptiness. 07:34:50 AM
I know it’s not reasonable but, deep fucking down, I bet you too wish they’d continue to pull Chileans up from the ground forever. 07:36:51 AM
What has brought this city closer together than feeling motherfucking one with 33 people stuck in the ground of another continent? Nothing. 07:41:46 AM
New slogan: “Bring back that first miner feeling. Emanuel for motherfucking mayor.” 07:45:33 AM
A Field of Dong-Tards and Shit-Eaters
I actually wanted Madigan to run. Have you seen the rest of the shit-tards that have announced? Give me someone fucking competent. 12:42:33 PM
Lisa Madigan, the attorney general for Illinois and daughter of the power broker of the statehouse, Speaker of the House Mike Madigan, was another name high on the list of possible mayoral contenders. While there was a great deal of media attention and public support for the idea of her entering the race, she officially announced on Chicago Public Radio that she was out.
Is it too late to get in on the fucking attorney general race? Come on, Madigan, let’s do this! Don’t leave me with Hendon and Flores. 03:33:50 PM
Flores had actually dropped out of the race four days before, a fact that I’d completely missed.
Unless motherfucking Oprah motherfucking Winfrey enters this race, it’s going to be me against a field of dong-tards and shiteaters. 03:38:09 PM
Seriously, a debate with these shit-galoids will end with me crushing my cock with the podium, just to feel SOMETHING. 03:43:31 PM
New slogan: “Vote Rahm: Because Jesus cock-Christ, look at the other fucking guys.” 03:58:10 PM
If I’d have known the field was going to end up this fucking limp-dicked, I’d have stayed in Washington through the fucking midterms. 04:10:46 PM
Enter the Intern
Friday, October 15, 2010
Right about now I’m getting that sinking fucking feeling that I was served motherfucking decaf. 08:40:10 AM
Fucking Friday night fucking starts fucking right fucking now. 04:02:17 PM
So the e-mail started “Dear First Name.” That was Plouffe’s quick fix to the original: “Dear Motherfucking Twat-tards.” 05:20:48 PM
The early days of the real Emanuel campaign were not the smoothest. Their first e-mail blast, sent Friday afternoon, was addressed to “Dear First Name.”
Dear First Name, Fuck you in your fucking pie-hole, you stupid motherfucking snatch-drip. Yours, Rahm. 05:27:52 PM
Dear First Name, Who’s got one and a half middle fingers, six beers, and doesn’t give a fuck if I got your name right? This guy. 05:34:08 PM
I have no idea if the real Rahm Emanuel is a heavy drinker, but @MayorEmanuel sure was.
Dear First Name, Plouffe assures me that we’re going to have an actual fucking communications team in place soon. The intern is a cocktard. 05:40:25 PM
“The intern is a cocktard” was the first mention of a soon-to-be central character in this story, invented entirely thanks to the Dear First Name e-mail.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Holy shit-cocks, I should have stopped at nine beers last night. My fucking head is going to fucking explode at this breakfast meeting. 08:39:00 AM
Of course Axelrod waltzes into the meeting like he drank nothing last night. That motherfucker’s liver is made of motherfucking Teflon. 11:03:50 AM
Fucking shine on, you motherfucking amazing fucking sun. 01:05:09 PM
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Fuck your motherfucking Sunday morning, I’m sleeping until goddamn noon. 08:59:21 AM
Fucking motherfucking fuck-shitting ass-cocked Bears. 02:47:05 PM
The Bears lost to the Seattle Seahawks, 23–20.
I really did try to listen to that fucking debate. But as soon as Quinn opens his mouth, I feel like a little part of me cock-plucking dies. 10:31:29
The aforementioned Pat Quinn was running for his first elected term as governor.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Shit-shaking dong-stompers. 08:27:47 AM
Really, what’s a few motherfucking million raised? Don’t fucking worry, Dart, I’m sure someone will give you some cash at some point. 03:47:09 PM
Rumors were beginning to circulate in the press that Emanuel had already raised millions—even before officially declaring that he was a candidate for mayor. His fund-raising prowess significantly complicated the life of anyone attempting to run against him.
Today was one never-ending fucking strategy session. Workloads doubled when Axelrod’s mustache announced it was taking the week off. 08:46:48 PM
Seriously, if that motherfucking ’stache is talking to fucking Meeks, I’m going to lose it. 08:48:20 PM
That’d be James Meeks, a mayoral candidate, Illinois state senator and pastor of the 24,000-member Salem Baptist Church in Chicago’s Pullman neighborhood on the far South Side. To the best of my knowledge, he never had a meeting with David Axelrod’s mustache.
Axelrod says it’s just taking a few days to see the fall colors in WI, but really: what fucking mustache takes off two weeks before midterms? 08:50:53 PM
Anyway, a week without that mustache just went from a slog to a motherfucking full-fledged shit-wallow. 08:54:38 PM
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I’m going to close my eyes and imagine a coffeepot as big as the motherfucking Sears motherfucking Tower. 08:00:16 AM
Chicago’s Sears Tower, the tallest building in America (and at one point, the world), was renamed the Willis Tower in 2009 when a London-based insurance broker took over three of the building’s 110 floors. Everyone still calls it the Sears Tower, except apparently a handful of assholes on Twitter, who have to point out that it’s actually called the Willis Tower now. It’s fun to fuck with them.
You want to know my definition of hell? This motherfucking lunch meeting that the fucking communications intern set up with Billy Dec. Fuck. 12:04:33 PM
For all the aldermen, cabinet secretaries, and other little-known names that are dropped in this story, the littlest known has to be Billy Dec. A club owner in Chicago, he briefly entered Chicago political consciousness in the lead-up to Chicago’s failed bid for the 2016 Olympics, when he posted YouTube videos of himself with various celebrities, asking them how they felt about the Olympics coming to Chicago.
Jesus fucking Christ, apparently it’s take-a-lunch-meeting-with-a-raging-douchebag day. 12:09:22 PM
Fuck me. He’s wearing his “dressy” baseball hat. Asked Axelrod to circle the block one more time. Considering jumping into traffic. 12:17:06 PM
That was a half hour I’ll never fucking get back. On the upside, the Rumble in the Jungle Turkey Wrap at the Rainforest Cafe—tasty! 12:43:10 PM
Next time I even hear the motherfucking name Billy Dec, I’m slamming my cock in the door of Axelrod’s Civic. 02:41:31 PM
Watching Alexi and Kirk debate is like fucking a sackful of dumb. 07:36:52 PM
Alexi Giannoulias’s opponent was Republican Mark Kirk.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Going around the public schools with Huberman today. That guy smells like motherfucking sadness. 08:04:29 AM
While Emanuel did tour public schools that week, he didn’t do it with Ron Huberman. Huberman was the CEO of the Chicago Public Schools, having taken over the position after Arne Duncan moved to Washington, DC. He would resign his position on November 29, 2010.
Axelrod tells me it’s not a word but Jesus fucking Christ it’s going to take a bazillion fucking dollars to save these fucking schools. 02:36:15 PM
In fact, the Chicago Public Schools face a deficit of around $750 million.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I’ve asked Axelrod to come over and just pour the coffee straight into my mouth while I’m still lying here. “I’ll be right over!” 07:12:10 AM
Christ, I’m so fucking tired I forgot to swear in that last Tweet: fucking motherfucking shit cock ass fuck twat. Feeling better already. 07:33:11 AM
So Ari is throwing me a fund-raiser soon, except he keeps calling it a “fuck-raiser.” I don’t even know what that fucking means. He scares me. 07:40:46 AM
Ari is, of course, Ari Emanuel, Rahm’s younger brother and a major power player in the entertainment industry. He’s the inspiration for the Ari Gold character in the TV show Entourage. If you’ve seen the show, that means you now know more about Ari Emanuel than I do. The press reported that Ari would throw a fund-raiser for Emanuel in LA on November 4.
But, I’d rather be on a flight to LA than have to tour another pathetic fucking school. Today’s might as well be the Oliver Twist Academy. 07:54:14 AM
Sufficiently coffeed. Alright, Chicago, I’m going to fuck you in the fucking face today. 08:28:08 AM
If Dart’s rent-a-cops pull over Axelrod’s Civic one more time, I’m going to stuff my fist so far up his ass my stump will tickle his uvula. 03:36:22 PM
Axelrod just called me from the impound. Dart’s goons hauled his fucking Civic in. Oh, it’s motherfucking on now, you fucking motherfuck. 05:50:53 PM
Sheriff Woody from “Toy Story” is more of a real lawman than that cocktard Dart. “There’s a motherfucking snake in my boot.” 06:05:43 PM
Friday, October 22, 2010
Axelrod just pulled up in his Civic, gave a beep and I went out. The thing has DART RULES spraypainted across the motherfucking hood. 07:24:15 AM
I’m going to have to drink ten thousand motherfucking beers to make this day motherfucking better. 04:06:23 PM
Chicago, it’s really fucking easy: Put down the fucking mouse, walk out the fucking door, it’s fucking Friday. 04:34:00 PM
Axelrod just showed up with a fucking case of toilet paper. We’re going to TP the living shit out of Dart’s house! 06:50:41 PM
Saturday, October 23, 2010
If you think I’m getting out of fucking bed on a rainy Saturday, you’re out of your motherfucking cock-holed mind. 12:09:17 PM
The fuck is Plouffe sending me to store openings for? What’s next, being a motherfucking greeter at the Pullman Walmart? 01:43:44 PM
Emanuel made an appearance at the blocks-long lineup for the grand opening of the Apple Store in Chicago’s wealthy Lincoln Park neighborhood. The Walmart in Pullman (the first to open in Chicago) will open in 2013—I would expect that Emanuel will in fact be there.
And seriously, there is an entirely different class of douchebag that shows up at an Apple Store opening in Lincoln fucking Park. 01:47:55 PM
Who wants a MacBook Air with a side of asshole? Order fucking up. 01:55:14 PM
Fucking Christ, morning at the Apple Store, afternoon at Whole Foods. Suck it out of my asshole, Lincoln Park! 07:16:54 PM
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Hey, Chicago, get your hands off your fucking cock and get the fuck outside. It’s motherfucking incredible out here. 01:00:28 PM
I swear to fucking god, Honeycrisp apples are motherfucking twatlicious! 03:17:38 PM
Cameos too—you put that shit into your fucking face-hole and you think, “Motherfucker, I am eating a fucking apple.” 03:31:33 PM
Monday, October 25, 2010
Fuck your fucking Monday morning right in its fucking puckered fucking pink fucking asshole. 07:26:36 AM
Axelrod’s mustache was back today after its week off. Good to have that bushy motherfucker back. 06:37:49 PM
Batten down the hatches, motherfuckers! 08:19:10 PM
The news had been filled with warnings about a coming windstorm—2,200 miles long, with hurricane-speed winds.
Axelrod’s refusing to come up from the basement. Pretty sure that motherfucker’s eaten most of the canned peaches. Fuck me. 08:28:49 PM
Axelrod’s calling up from the basement, telling me I shouldn’t be up on the roof yelling, “BRING IT ON, YOU WINDY MOTHERFUCKERS.” 10:34:05 PM
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
COME ON YOU FUCKING WEATHER, IS THIS THE BEST YOU FUCKING GOT? 07:49:06 AM
Now there’s motherfucking blue motherfucking skies out there. This goddamn wind storm can fucking blow me. 10:23:52 AM
In Chicago, the much-hyped windstorm didn’t amount to much. The Chicago Tribune reported that, “It was hard for some in the city—where the weather was cloudy and blustery—to reconcile what they saw with descriptions of this being ‘the largest storm in decades.’” That would be because it wasn’t.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
C-fuck-O-fuck-F-fuck-F-fuck-E-fuck-E. 07:13:21 AM
So I see that motherfucker Dart got that shit-box I sent him. 10:49:24 AM
Hey, Chicago, meet the new motherfucking sheriff in town. 10:51:25 AM
Tom Dart announced that he would not seek the office of mayor, citing the impact it would have on his family. He remains the sheriff of Cook County.
A Field of Fucking Pussies
Strategy session: do we just hold the fucking election early? Or do we not fucking bother at all? Seems like a fucking formality now. 10:54:34 AM
Axelrod’s telling me I need to do more at this news conference than let them film my motherfucking victory lap. 12:47:50 PM
Dear Chicago, I’m sorry that 21 years of Daley gave you a field of fucking pussies. And me. 06:18:12 PM
But really, when I look at this fucking pathetic field and the most credible candidate casts dicks in cement, I mostly feel sorry for you. 06:31:31 PM
So in an election that was not wanting for characters, an early candidate was Cynthia Albritton, better known as Cynthia Plaster Caster, an artist who made a name for herself casting the penises of musicians. For real. The song “Plaster Caster,” by Kiss? That’s about her. She dubbed her political party “The Hard Party” and distributed pins urging voters to “Erect Cynthia Plaster Caster for Mayor.” Unfortunately, she never turned in signatures to officially get on the ballot.
New slogan: “I mostly feel sorry for you, you pathetic fucking shit-tards. Emanuel ’11.” 06:41:02 PM
Thursday, October 28, 2010
When I finish this cup of coffee, I’m going to dump the filter and fuck the grinds. 07:04:17 AM
13 voice mails from Hendon yesterday reminding me that he was a “real” candidate. No you’re not, Rickey. No you’re fucking not. 07:53:13 AM
New slogan: “Your other choice is Rickey fucking Hendon. Emanuel ’11.” 08:08:07 AM
Axelrod just came over with a fuck-it bucket of chicken. This night just got a whole motherfucking lot better. 08:53:00 PM
The Halloween Party
Friday, October 29, 2010
Holy Jesus fucking Christ-hole, I have a massive chicken hangover. 08:36:48 AM
Shit-fucking fuck-shitters, it’s motherfucking cold out here! 09:07:04 AM
Fuck you, you fucking motherfuckers, it’s finally motherfucking Friday. 04:39:35 PM
Supposed to go to a Halloween party at Carl the Intern’s apartment tonight. Word is Shiller’s wearing a “sexy can of fruit” outfit. Fuck. 04:58:03 PM
The “Dear First Name” intern finally got a first name of his own: Carl. As it turns out there’s a cartoon called Phineas & Ferb that also has an intern named Carl in it. Pure coincidence—Carl is apparently just a very good name for an intern.
Also, fucking Flores is supposed to be there. Assuming he’s going dressed as a ten-year-old girl because that’s what he looks like anyway. 05:07:01 PM
Jody Weis is supposed to be there too. That stupid motherfucker always comes to this shit in his uniform—“I’m going as a hero.” Fuck off. 05:17:09 PM
Me, I’m going as Mr. Schuester from “Glee.” I love that motherfucking show so fucking much it fucking scares me sometimes. 05:40:28 PM
There were moments in the @MayorEmanuel feed where I’d introduce an idea with the intention of picking it up again. Rahm Emanuel: diehard Glee fan was one of those, but it never really came together, except for another single reference months later.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
I would try to sum up my night, but I’ll just leave it at “Who wants to open up this can of fruit?” Holy shit-fucking-Christ-fuck. 08:31:14 AM
The scariest part of Halloween this year is the realization that I’m going to be voting for motherfucking Alexi in three days. BOO! 11:58:15 AM
All Hallows’ Eve
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Just bought a little fake blood sprayer I can attach to my finger stump. These fucking trick-or-treat kids will shit their diapers. 09:34:34 AM
Guy came to my door in the most fucking amazing Zombie Pat Quinn outfit. Then I realized it was actually just sad-shitting Quinn himself. 02:24:59 PM
Holy fuck, I’ve eaten so much candy corn that I think I can see through motherfucking time! 06:09:44 PM
Caught in a fucking candy-corn haze. Jean Baptiste Point Du Sable and Papa Bear Halas are dancing. Axelrod’s mustache sings like an angel. 08:51:02 PM
Du Sable was the first recorded resident of Chicago, living there in early 1790. George “Papa Bear” Halas was the head coach of the Chicago Bears from 1922 to, impossibly, 1967. His other nickname was “Mr. Everything,” which is super awesome.
John Belushi and Harold Washington are swimming in the river. Their bodies bleed together in the dark murk of the water. FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. 09:04:20 PM
Harold Washington—referred to in deferential tones simply as “Harold”—was the first African-American mayor of Chicago. Elected in 1983, he died in office in 1987. Comedian John Belushi was one of the original cast members of Saturday Night Live. He died from a drug overdose in 1982.
I look out the window and the Hancock and the Sears reach out and kiss each other tenderly. My fucking tears taste like celery salt. 09:15:12 PM
The stars are red and the sky is striped with blue. I baptize myself in the lake’s frigid waters. I AM REFUCKINGBORN. 10:32:40 PM
Monday, November 1, 2010
Where the fuck am I? What the fuck happened last night? And why the fuck am I wearing nothing but Payton’s retired jersey? 08:00:45 AM
That’d be Walter “Sweetness” Payton, the legendary Chicago Bear.
I’m on a roof. All I see up here with me is the head of Benny the Bull and about 700 motherfucking Brady for Gov yard signs. Uh … help? 08:35:24 AM
Bill Brady was running on the Republican ticket for governor of Illinois.
OK, I’m on the roof of the Museum of Science and Industry. Axelrod’s got a ladder set up. Fucking Christ, I’ve gotta lay off the sugar. 09:00:53 AM
The Motherfucking Midterms
I would rather wet my ballsack and stick it to a frozen fucking flagpole than vote for Quinn and Alexi tomorrow. But I will anyway. 06:41:18 PM
I know it’s not a ringing fucking endorsement, but seriously: they’re both as dumb as a sack of cocks. But the other guys are dumber. 06:55:21 PM
Claypool actually seems like a smart motherfucker. Or maybe it’s just that Berrios makes me vomit into my fucking mouth whenever I see him. 10:36:46 PM
Never knew the candidates in the Cook County assessor’s race? Now you do: Forrest Claypool and Joe Berrios.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Just voted. Yep, that felt just as shitty as I thought it would. Ah, motherfucking democracy. 07:23:33 AM
Alexi just called to thank me, except it came out sounding like “Tankoo f’ya vode.” I get dumber every time I talk with that motherfucker. 11:40:52 AM
Axelrod and I are debating whether it makes more sense to get drunk now or wait until West Coast polls close. Fuck it. Now. 05:59:51 PM
The seven-o’clock polls on the East Coast were about to close. The Democratic bloodbath of the 2010 midterm elections was about to begin. And @MayorEmanuel and Axelrod were about to get very, very drunk.
I present to you the new motherfucking congressperson from Kentucky, Rand Paul. And people wondered why I got out when I did. 06:07:31 PM
Rand Paul’s Senate victory was the first of many GOP upsets of the night. The speed with which updates were happening made it difficult to keep up. That’s my best excuse for my mistake of moving Paul from the Senate to the House.
Holy motherfucking Jesus fucking Christ, we do not have anywhere near enough alcohol to get us through this fucking night. 06:10:08 PM
You know, it’s really not that the Republicans are going to win tonight, it’s that the ones who will are all motherfucking crazy. 06:25:07 PM
Axelrod is insisting that Paul is a senator, not a congressperson. I’m insisting that he pour me another dozen drinks before I accept it. 06:34:13 PM
And my Paul mistake was corrected.
You know shit is bad when your highlight reel has to include a guy who won against a motherfucking antimasturbation ass-crazy witch. 07:21:27 PM
Delaware was announced for Democrat Chris Coons, beating GOP candidate Christine O’Donnell, who had somehow managed to spend much of the campaign explaining past antimasturbation speeches and denying that she was a witch.
The New Democratic Party: We can beat the shit out of wrestlers and witches. Regular old nutjobs? Not so fucking much. 07:36:48 PM
Connecticut was called for Democrat Richard Blumenthal, beating the Republican candidate, Linda McMahon, whose prior experience was running World Wrestling Entertainment.
Wins in Connecticut, Delaware, and West Virginia. Someone want to chalk one up in a motherfucking state that motherfucking counts? 07:55:57 PM
Fax from Plouffe is coming in now. It just reads “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU …” I’m assuming a C-K will come in eventually. 08:03:00 PM
Axelrod just went out to get more beer and about 75 fuck-it buckets of chicken. This night calls for a good old-fashioned deep-fry wallow. 08:22:09 PM
That Rand Paul speech almost made me choke on my own motherfucking vomit. Six years of that asshole. Six fucking years. 08:25:45 PM
Contemplating snapping my cock in a mousetrap. Has to be better than the rest of these fucking results. 08:47:32 PM
Yep, it was. Might need a motherfucking Band-Aid though. 08:54:31 PM
How is it that motherfucking Colorado is emerging as the most sane fucking state in the union? 09:28:08 PM
Colorado bucked the overall anti-Democrat trend of the night, electing a Democratic governor and retaining its Democratic senator.
I know it’s great if Alexi wins, but seriously: we’ll all have to stare at his dumb fucking face for the next six years. 09:39:27 PM
Making a call to Feingold, trying to get that asshole over here to drink with me and Axelrod. What the fuck else does he have to do now? 09:40:34 PM
Russ Feingold, longtime reformer and political maverick, had just lost the Senate seat he had held in Wisconsin since 1993.
Seriously, Russ, it shouldn’t have been motherfucking you. 09:54:52 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t fucking take it. Axelrod switched over to reruns of “Night Court,” and I’m not changing it back. 10:02:29 PM
Just interrupted “Night Court” to say the Dems will lose the House. Hope the next interruption is to tell me that the night is fucking dark. 10:20:11 PM
Just four years before, Emanuel had become Democratic Caucus chairman of the House after the Democrats regained control of that chamber.
If that crazy fucking motherfucking fucking Sharron fucking Angle fucking wins, I’m fucking done with motherfucking democracy. 10:27:40 PM
Sharron Angle was the GOP candidate in Nevada, looking to unseat Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid. She was, by most accounts, pretty fucking crazy.
Hey, Meg Whitman, you can buy anything, but you can’t buy motherfucking backbone. 10:42:44 PM
Meg Whitman was the Republican candidate for Senate in California. It had just been announced that she had lost her self-financed $163 million campaign. Why not send her out with a nice Rushmore reference?
Feingold just got here. That motherfucker is seriously in a bad place. But things are looking up: “Hey, is that ‘Night Court’? Awesome.” 10:57:46 PM
You know, I’d feel a lot better about the Democrats retaining the goddamn Senate if they’d all pull their fucking fists out of their asses. 11:03:58 PM
I’m just going to say it right now: The Boehner/boner jokes are too fucking easy. Motherfucking amateur motherfucking hour. 11:14:53 PM
This didn’t stop Twitter from lighting up with those very jokes almost immediately after John Boehner was announced as the new Speaker of the House.
Shit motherfucking fuck shitting shit fuckers. Fucking shitbagging tea shitters. Fuck fucking fuck motherfuck. Shit shitting shittingshit. 11:21:11 PM
@MayorEmanuel doesn’t take lightly the announcement that the Democrats have lost Obama’s former Senate seat.
Alexi was a dumb fucking sack of shit. But he was OUR dumb fucking sack of shit. 11:28:39 PM
So it comes down to hoping that Harry fucking Reid pulls off Nevada? Is there a Chicago on some tropical fucking island I can be mayor of? 11:47:26 PM
Congratulations on the win, Harry, you colossally boring, old fucking man. 11:56:54 PM
Harry Reid held his seat in Nevada, and the Democrats held onto a slim majority in the Senate.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Feingold passed out. I tucked his jacket around him and am letting the sad motherfucker sleep. Dream the dreams of the righteous, Russ. 12:10:04 AM
Me? I’m up all night. This “Night Court” thing turned out to be a motherfucking MARATHON. Oh Bull, you gentle fucking giant, hold us all. 12:16:28 AM
Holy fucking shit-bags. Can we get a motherfucking do-over on yesterday? 07:33:09 AM
Carl the Intern has just been sent on the mother of all coffee runs. There’s going to be a world fucking shortage when he’s done. 08:30:59 AM
Feingold just woke up. Not entirely clear he remembers what happened last night. I’m certainly not going to fucking tell him. 01:33:27 PM
Axelrod cleared all the newspapers, so Feingold still doesn’t know. Current plan is to convince him he’s fucking stuck, “Groundhog Day” style. 10:12:49 PM
Two Bill Murray film references in 24 hours.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Filled the bathtub with coffee. About to dunk my motherfucking head in it. 07:36:42 AM
Downside to this “Groundhog Day” plan with Feingold: Axelrod’s sweater really fucking smells on day three. 08:13:16 AM
Shit—who knew Russ knew how to use a computer? Now he’s fucking bawling again. 10:27:21 AM
Off to the airport to head to LA for Ari’s fund-raiser. I know he’s my brother, but he fucking terrifies me. 10:28:09 AM
Ari met me at LAX wearing nothing but a chinchilla coat. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, grinning. No I’m fucking not. 05:01:38 PM
Ari drives his Tesla about five miles an hour. And whistles at every woman we pass. My back fucking hurts from slumping in my seat. 05:26:14 PM
“Oh, it’s motherfucking on now, you fucking motherfuckers!” That’s Ari, shouting from the balcony, before jumping into the pool below. 07:42:54 PM
The fund-raiser portrayed here did indeed happen (though clearly the details are a little different). It was cohosted by Ari, David Geffen, Bob Iger (CEO of Disney), Peter Chernin (former CEO of Fox Entertainment), and Haim Saban (a media mogul whom you’ve probably never heard of but is credited with creating He-Man and producing the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. He’s also the 102nd richest person in America).
David Geffen keeps egging him on. Geffen, by the way, travels with a pack of tiny fucking dogs. There are like 40 of them here. 07:45:05 PM
Ari has a midget walking around with a bowl strapped to his head for people to put money in. “He’s your donation munchkin!!” Fuck. 07:50:55 PM
When the midget walked in, I said “Ari, no.” And he said, “Look, you fucking piece of shit, at least it’s not a coke mirror on his head.” 07:54:31 PM
Kid Rock just showed up. I feel giddy like a motherfucking schoolgirl. 08:05:33 PM
Bob Iger just showed up wearing only a little leather pouch over his cock. Ari says that’s how he’s always dressed when he’s not at Disney. 08:30:20 PM
You know who’s fucking classy? Meryl motherfucking Streep. She didn’t show, but she sent a really nice card. And $10k. 08:46:25 PM
Kid Rock and Geffen got into a fistfight. Crashed through the French doors, off the balcony, and into the pool. His dogs are jumping in too. 08:53:49 PM
Seriously there are like 70 fucking tiny dogs freaking the fuck out in the pool. Donation munchkin is trying to fish them out. There he goes. 08:57:09 PM
So now my fucking money is floating in the pool, while a midget, 80 tiny dogs, David fucking Geffen, and Kid Rock splash around. 09:00:24 PM
Jesus fucking Christ this is a fucking disaster. I should have stayed home shaking hands at your motherfucking L station. 09:11:31 PM
Iger seems to have “lost” his cock-pouch. Just fucking perfect. 09:14:58 PM
You know who’s awesome? Geffen’s boyfriend. Walked over, handed me a beer, and said, “Welcome to motherfucking LA. Get out while you can.” 09:53:27 PM
Friday, November 5, 2010
“Wake the fuck up, you stupid fucking shitbag.” Yeah, good morning to you too, Ari. I cannot wait to catch the plane home. 08:34:11 AM
Kid Rock is passed out on a lawn chair and they’re still pulling Geffen’s dogs out of the pool filter. But I made 500k. Good fucking haul. 08:40:28 AM
In reality, Emanuel made far more than $500k from that fund-raiser. Once his campaign finance records for Q4 were released, it was revealed that Saban alone donated $300,000.
Three things LA has that Chicago doesn’t: 1) warmth; 2) a shit-ton of rich assholes willing to give me money; 3) taco trucks. 09:00:42 AM
One thing Chicago has that LA doesn’t: a fucking soul. Let’s head motherfucking home. 09:05:33 AM
When I beat you, I’m not sitting down to dinner with you afterwards. I’m not having a fucking beer. When I beat you, you stay fucking beat. 04:24:55 PM
This was the season of summits between rival candidates in Illinois. There was a “sandwich summit” between Illinois Governor Quinn and his GOP opponent Bill Brady at Manny’s Deli in Chicago following the end of their contested election. This followed a “beer summit” between Giannoulias and his Republican rival Mark Kirk at Chicago’s Billy Goat Tavern.
Fuck you, Chicago, it’s motherfucking Friday motherfucking night. Time to go the fuck home. 05:59:33 PM
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Whoever called this motherfucking Saturday morning meeting is a motherfucking dead man. 08:26:29 AM
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Fuck you, Daylight Savings Time, fuck you right in your stupid fucking sun orbit. 08:01:52 AM
You know what’s cute? That Chico thinks he has a fucking chance. Awwwww. 09:23:14 AM
That’s Gery Chico, a longtime figure in Chicago politics. He served as Daley’s chief of staff for three years, and then as the board president of the Chicago Public Schools, the Chicago Park District, and the Chicago City Colleges. Amazingly, he positioned himself as an outsider early on in this race. He ran hard against Emanuel the whole time, but in these early days tried to paint Rahm as more in line with Washington, DC, and Hollywood than Chicago. On the day Emanuel was at his brother’s fund-raiser in LA, Chico held a press conference at the Hollywood Grill, a longtime diner in the Wicker Park neighborhood.
I’d be more excited about this Bears win if the experience of watching them didn’t feel like stuffing a Q-tip up my fucking urethra. 03:16:21 PM
The Bears had only narrowly beaten the winless (to that point in the season) Buffalo Bills 21–19.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Fucking motherfucking fuck-loving coffee. 07:29:23 AM
Today’s strategy session: Do we actually pretend that Davis and Chico matter, or do we just not give a fuck? 09:21:00 AM
US Representative Danny Davis, in office since 1997, was another candidate in the mayoral race. This was not his first shot at the office, however; he had previously run against Daley in an unsuccessful bid in 1991.
Fuck you, winter! It’s motherfucking incredible outside! 12:47:07 PM
It really was incredible outside, the first of a string of 60 degree–plus days in November.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
I know I’m supposed to be shaking hands at some fucking factory, but fuck it: me and Axelrod are heading to the Oak Street Beach. You in? 09:56:41 AM
In a few weeks, you’re going to be cock-deep in snow. Fuck your job and come to the motherfucking beach, you assholes. 10:08:05 AM
Axelrod in a Speedo is a motherfucking magnificent sight. 10:23:26 AM
Standing knee-deep in this fucking water, feeling the sun in my face. If someone hands me a taco al pastor, I’d be happy to fucking die here. 10:49:57 AM
If this weather holds up, I’ll use my political capital in DC to change November to Nofuckingvember! With the fucking exclamation point. 11:27:07 AM
Let’s Go Fly a Kite
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Kites, people. Look at this fucking weather. Today it’s motherfucking kites. 08:43:19 AM
Seriously, Axelrod and I are heading to Montrose fucking Harbor. I’ll be flying the giant fucking pirate ship. Axelrod’s got Hello Kitty. 08:50:50 AM
It seems like every city has a place where “kite people” congregate. Montrose Harbor, on the North Side, is Chicago’s.
When Axelrod pulled up in his Civic, he was still in his fucking Speedo. “It just feels right.” Fuck yes. 09:08:02 AM
I just want to bend this weather over and fuck it until it hurts. 12:31:52 PM
And you know what? You do too. NOFUCKINGVEMBER! 12:36:21 PM
Text from Plouffe: “Vacation’s over, ass-wipes. Back to work tomorrow.” Axelrod just mooned my phone. 02:26:25 PM
As punishment for my taking the last two days off, Plouffe just faxed over a press release: I’m announcing on a fucking Saturday. Fuck me. 08:25:19 PM
It’s worth noting here that Emanuel returned to Chicago in late September. This “fax from Plouffe” is setting the date for his announcement that he’ll actually be running for mayor, a month and a half after he arrived.
I faxed him back a picture of my cock. Fuck this motherfucking Saturday bullshit. 08:57:52 PM
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Motherfucking cock-bowling shit-cleaners. Where is that fuck-crying qqcoffee? 07:41:17 AM
Around this time, the alternate keyboard I was using on my phone—a beta version of Swype—really started to get terrible. That double Q had to be deleted countless times, but I didn’t always catch them—this one is left in because it sets up the Tweet that follows.
Fuck, I’m so fucking tired that I can’t even motherfucking typ. 07:43:55 AM
Typo on this one entirely intentional.
You know what’s wrong with motherfucking John Kass besides fucking everything? That he actually thinks that “Rahmfather” shit is clever. 07:55:08 AM
Seriously, that guy needs to shut his talentless fucking trap before he wakes up one morning to find his hairplugs stuffed up his piss hole. 07:57:43 AM
John Kass writes a column on page A2 of the Chicago Tribune, the spot occupied by legendary “everyman” journalist Mike Royko until he died. It is a massive understatement to say that Kass is no Royko. That said, I believe his hair is genuine.
Plouffe faxed the schedule. I’m heading to some Internet company today. Like we’re going to save the fucking economy with 50% off spa days. 08:08:27 AM
Been on this Groupon tour for 20 minutes wondering why the fuck a 12-year-old is leading it. Turns out he’s their CEO. 11:41:52 AM
To be fair, Andrew Mason, the CEO of the daily deals site Groupon, looks more like an 18-year-old. Impossibly, he’s actually 29. Rahm visited many Chicago-based tech companies during his campaign, and Groupon, which Forbes once called “the fastest growing company ever,” fell very much in line with his message of economic innovation.
Apparently we’re saving the fucking city by thwarting child labor laws. I swear there’s nobody in this building above the age of 13. 11:46:50 AM
Seriously, can someone offer these guys 50% off employees who can grow fucking pubic hair? 11:51:28 AM
Axelrod has been playing foosball while I’ve been dragged on this motherfucking tour. How many computers do I have to stand and look at? 12:01:20 PM
That said, I’ve gotten 50% off so many motherfucking manicures that my cuticles are going to motherfucking blind you. 12:11:08 PM
I actually wrote this with the intention of using the detail later. Never did get back to the blinding cuticles. Like the Glee reference before it, a number of things went this way—I’d leave bread crumbs, little bits that could get picked up later if the opportunity arose (or, more accurately, if I remembered I’d written them).
Hey, Chico and Davis, I got you a Fuckyoupon: 50% off getting out of this race with your dick still stitched on. 12:18:54 PM
Fax from Plouffe: Alexi’s considering making a run for mayor. That’s what we need: more motherfucking losers in this race. 07:41:15 PM
There was no fax. Instead, there was a report from Chicago Sun-Times reporter Lynne Sweet that Alexi Giannoulias was pondering entering the mayoral race. “I don’t think Giannoulias is that interested in jumping in the mayor’s race,” Sweet wrote, “but his approach, I gather, is this: it doesn’t hurt to listen to the aldermen to see what they have to say.”
I swear to fucking god, Alexi enters the race and I will break my dick off and fuck him in his motherfucking exposed pores. 07:42:07 PM
I would rather debate my own fucking ballsack than have to stand at a podium across from Alexi and listen to his dumb fucking mouth. 07:47:08 PM
Hey, Alexi, I picked up a Fuckyoupon for you too: 75% off your worst motherfucking nightmare. 07:51:06 PM
Seriously, the thought of Alexi motherfucking Giannoulias entering this goddamn race makes me feel like my fucking brain is on fire. 08:02:14 PM
This City Used to Build Things
Friday, November 12, 2010
I motherfucking need some motherfucking coffee poured down my motherfucking gullet right motherfucking now. 07:43:25 AM
Strategy session for tomorrow: Axelrod says that “Why the fuck do you think I’m here, you fucking shitbags?” is “too strong” of an opener. 08:10:28 AM
Plouffe’s on speaker. Says I should look “fresh faced.” If that asshole ever comes to Chicago, I’m going to stick my ballsack in his eye. 08:15:36 AM
Axelrod also says no to, “I’m not here because I like you fucking twat-warts, I’m here to be your mayor.” 08:30:33 AM
Touring some fucking T-shirt company today. T-shirts and coupons? This city is so fucking motherfucking fucked. 10:13:51 AM
Rahm Emanuel visited the T-shirt company Threadless, which is based in Chicago, twice during the campaign. Threadless pioneered a vote-based system for selecting T-shirt designs that has been much imitated in the decade since it was founded.
Seriously, this city used to build things. Now we’re just assholes with novelty T-shirts. I’m with motherfucking stupid. 10:34:36 AM
Axelrod’s excited though: “I want the one of the cookie drinking a glass of milk.” 10:42:15 AM
For the next hour I’m going to be staring blankly at T-shirts pretending like I give a fuck. 10:54:12 AM
Yeah, it really is just a giant fucking pile of T-shirts. Axelrod is wearing about half of them at this point. 11:22:31 AM
Axelrod: “Do you have any shirts with wolves on them?” That fucking guy is obsessed with wolves. 11:32:06 AM
Can’t pull Axelrod away from this fucking Ping-Pong table. Maybe I need to leave a trail of T-shirts leading out the door, bread-crumb style. 12:05:52 PM
I see Alexi got that Fuckyoupon I sent over. Mason was right: the real profit is when they don’t redeem them. 01:58:09 PM
As quickly as the rumor started that Alexi was entering the race, another began that he was out.
Finally got Axelrod away from the Ping-Pong. Never need to look at another motherfucking T-shirt again. 04:06:28 PM
Action Items: (1) fucking (2) finally (3) it’s fucking (4) motherfucking (5) Friday (6) fucking (7) night. 04:32:42 PM
The Fucking Announcement
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Jesus motherfucking Christ, this goddamn Saturday morning announcement is going to motherfucking kill me. COFFEE. 09:21:33 AM
It was the morning of Emanuel’s official announcement that he’d be running for mayor of Chicago. He held it at the John C. Coonley School in the city’s North Center neighborhood.
The only thing that’s going to get me through this is knowing that when I shake your hand, mine is covered in cock sweat. 09:44:32 AM
This is almost a word-for-word match to a Tweet back when @MayorEmanuel was leaving Washington, DC. I’d remembered that line and wanted to use something similar because, at that point, the @MayorEmanuel was being followed by probably ten times more people than the first time around. That said, I never realized just how close a match it was until now.
We were supposed to do this at 10, but it’s going to take a motherfucking hour to navigate through all these fucking baby strollers. Go home. 09:58:51 AM
Thank fucking god: Axelrod slipped me a couple fucking shots just now. Here goes motherfucking nothing. 11:06:02 AM
Speech preview: I’ve spent these last weeks listening to your problems. And gone home every fucking night and poured bleach in my ears. 11:12:03 AM
Speech preview: Despite all of you, I still want to be the motherfucking mayor. 11:23:57 AM
Christ-sucking cock-holes, that was 45 minutes I will never, fucking ever, get back. 11:46:12 AM
And now I have to stand around kissing all of your fucking asses while the weather turns from shitty to motherfucking miserable. Fuck this. 11:47:35 AM
Axelrod and I are heading over for a celebratory meal at Superdawg. I am going to eat the living shit out of a motherfucking Whoopskidawg. 06:58:58 PM
The Superdawg drive-in, located on the northwest side of the city, features statues of two giant anthropomorphized hot dogs on its roof. Their names—because of course they’re named—are Maurie and Flaurie, after the original owner and his wife.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sleeping motherfucking in today. No more listening tour for you assholes means more sleep for me. Fuck yes. 10:49:50 AM
While Emanuel’s official announcement as a mayoral candidate meant that he was no longer officially on a listening tour, it didn’t stop him from continuing to visit L stops, bars, and eateries every day of the campaign.
Filing Day at the Grease Monkey
Monday, November 15, 2010
Picked up a Fuckyoupon for Meeks this weekend: 50% off nobody gives a fuck. 08:30:34 AM
Axelrod’s Civic broke an axle on the way to file our petitions today, so Carl the Intern had to steal a cart from Jewel and walk ’em in. 08:38:56 AM
November 15 was the first day to file petitions to get on the ballot with the Chicago Board of Election Commissioners. Order on the ballot is set on a first-come, first-served basis, so the strategy is to get in line early. One caveat is that all candidates in the lineup by the time the office opens get dibs on the top spot, which is then decided by a lottery.
Meanwhile, we’re over at the Grease Monkey trying not to get completely fucked on the axle replacement. 08:40:15 AM
What the fucking fuck is a “constant velocity joint” and can we get by without one? 08:52:04 AM
Before he wheeled off with our petitions, I gave Carl head-fake lessons. Chico is about to get the head-faking of a fucking lifetime. 09:03:13 AM
Axelrod’s Civic already gets by without passenger-side windows or radio. Does it really need a differential seal? 09:07:13 AM
Carl just called Axelrod’s Razr: cart tipped over on Washington; most of the petitions ended up in the street. Not my fucking day. 09:15:44 AM
Carl says he got most of the petitions and that they’re “mostly just muddy.” At least that’ll cover the coffee I spilled on them. 09:22:12 AM
Shit is so fucking motherfucking fucked that I keep fucking forgetting to fucking swear. Fuck. 09:26:32 AM
Finally getting Axelrod’s car out of the shop. Motherfuck. Carl says Moseley Braun was crowing about having the most signatures. Fuck her. 05:57:12 PM
All Moseley Braun’s signatures and two bucks will buy her is a Coke. No idea how much it’d cost her to buy a fucking clue. 05:59:07 PM
Beep Beep, Motherfucker
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Holy fucking Jesus fuck. Where the fucking fuck is the motherfucking coffee? 07:35:22 AM
When I was a dancer, I learned the phrase “mutually assured destruction.” Meeks, Davis, and Braun should fucking look it up. 10:06:21 AM
Much of the media narrative at this point was around which of the three candidates would become the “consensus candidate” for Chicago’s large African-American population. This was also an ongoing story between Chico and Del Valle and about which one would represent Chicago’s Hispanic community.
Been driving with the Teamsters all day. Pulled up to Chico’s house in a big rig and blew on the horn. Beep beep, motherfucker! 05:08:49 PM
In the real race, November 16 marked the release of a Teamsters-sponsored poll that showed Emanuel capturing 34%. The next closest candidate, Davis, was at 14%, marking a 20% gap between the two—that would be one of the closest gaps of the entire campaign.
Another thing about the Teamsters: you have not eaten a sandwich until you have eaten a motherfucking Teamster sandwich. 05:23:25 PM
Hanging with Teamsters is like hanging with high school kids, but with mustaches. You just eat, drink, and fucking drive around. 06:06:34 PM
Axelrod and this Teamster named Bruno are in the mother of all pizza-eating contests. Fucking I kid you not: we’re in hour three. 09:45:29 PM
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Axelrod’s been puking most of the night. The price of motherfucking victory. 08:15:53 AM
Hanging out with beat cops today, as my motherfucking Chicago mustache tour continues. Tomorrow: cartoon Italian plumbers. 09:07:58 AM
One of the worst stories written about the @MayorEmanuel account once my identity had been revealed misrepresented the mustache tour as “meeting with Italians and Teamsters.” Clearly, the journalist had never played Super Mario Brothers.
He keeps this residency shit up, and I’m going to cram my motherfucking mortgage documents right up Ed Burke’s pockmarked ass. 11:39:57 AM
One of the major questions at this stage in the race—one that would plague Emanuel for months—was whether or not he was actually a resident of Chicago. Because he moved to Washington, DC, to serve the president—after serving in the House of Representatives as a congressperson from Chicago’s Ravenswood neighborhood—the legal argument was that he was no longer a resident of Illinois, and thus could not run for office. Power brokers and competing candidates began to press the residency issue, mostly behind the scenes. Though no one candidate or figure ever stepped forward to orchestrate the lawsuits that would follow, the Chicago Sun-Times portrayed Ed Burke’s support for pursuing Emanuel’s residency issues as “a poorly kept secret.”
I’m not saying Daley’s a bad guy, but his new budget just fucked you in the ass without even saying please. 05:23:41 PM
Mayor Daley released his final budget, which closed a gaping deficit by raiding the $1.15 billion fund from the 75-year parking meter lease. Only three years after signing the deal, there was only $76 million remaining in the account.
Next parking meter box you see, whip your cock out and fuck the coin return. Coin-slot sex is the only thing you’ll see from the meter deal. 05:33:12 PM
I mean really, how the fuck do you fucking twat-up a seventy-five-year lease deal? Just a few coins motherfucking left over? Fuck this shit. 05:57:24 PM
So now we’re all running to be mayor of a city that’s so fucking motherfucking broke, we’ll all be selling plasma to fund the schools. Fuck. 06:05:38 PM
Movie Night (part one)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Staffing up with a new intern, who just walked in with motherfucking tea. Hey what’s-your-fuck, you’re out. 07:36:28 AM
Axelrod’s already getting his motherfucking Hagrid costume together for the “Deathly Hallows” opening at midnight. 08:01:39 AM
I keep telling Axelrod that I’m going as Gandalf. He’s getting so fucking mad I think his mustache might fall off. 08:09:06 AM
Gandalf is, of course, a wizard from the Lord of the Rings series, not the Harry Potter series.
Strategy session, and every motherfucking suggestion from Axelrod involves a fucking Harry Potter reference. 08:24:33 AM
Fuck: “Let’s cast lumos on the budget situation.” 08:25:44 AM
In case you’ve somehow avoided Harry Potter (and good on you if you have), lumos is a spell that causes the tip of your magic wand to light up.
Motherfuck: “Let’s use stupefy on Chico.” 08:27:17 AM
And stupefy is a stunning spell, used to incapacitate enemies.
I know it’s only 8:30, but I need a motherfucking drink. 08:31:06 AM
Axelrod spent most of the 2:30 meeting “getting all of you up to speed on the Harry Potter franchise.” Can it fucking be midnight yet? 03:17:51 PM
3/4 of the way through his retelling, he started crying because Dumbledore was killed. And he hasn’t fucking stopped bawling since. 03:19:47 PM
I swear, by the end of this day, I may just stuff this motherfucking wand in my motherfucking ear hole. 03:24:45 PM
This line is fucking long and fucking cold. And this fucking wizard’s cloak is not magically fucking warm. 08:30:22 PM
Friday, November 19, 2010
Jesus motherfucking Christ, I have a hangover the size of fucking Hogwarts. 08:38:11 AM
Back to the Grind
Meeks, you keep pushing this residency bullshit and I will cram your cross so far up your ass, it’ll take three days just to fucking find it. 08:43:41 AM
I will admit that I’m a resident of Theothermotherfuckersaremother fuckingdisasters-ville. 08:53:47 AM
And I own a timeshare in the great city of Fuckyouton. 08:55:11 AM
The first fucking person to file a suit over my residency is going to find my foot taking up residency inside their sphincter. 09:00:09 AM
Fuck you all of you motherfuckers in the motherfucking asshole, it’s finally motherfucking Friday night. 04:53:17 PM
Axelrod is off at his sixth screening of “Deathly Hallows,” but Penny Pritzker’s bringing over a diamond-encrusted bucket of chicken. Fuck yes. 05:11:40 PM
Penny also brought over four cans of Four Loko and is offering me $100k for each one I drink. Easy fucking money. 05:39:46 PM
Four Loko was a briefly famous alcoholic beverage that combined malt liquor with a fruit-flavored caffeinated energy drink. The FDA issued a warning to the manufacturers of Four Loko, on November 17, that the addition of caffeine to alcoholic beverages was an “unsafe food additive,” which kicked off a ban in many states and cities.
Sho thag for logos shtit aignt sho fuctink touf. 08:17:28 PM
“So that Four Lokos shit ain’t so fucking tough.”
Im sho fuctink fukt on thiz resgidetse shid itz nod efin fungky. 08:27:30 PM
“I’m so fucking fucked on this residency shit it’s not even funny.”
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Motherfucking fucking fuck fuckers. 08:04:26 AM
The decision to only use one end zone in this fucking NU game was made by fucking cocktards. Dumbest fucking game ever. 04:45:44 PM
Northwestern (Emanuel’s alma mater) played the University of Illinois in a game held at Wrigley Field, the home of the Chicago Cubs and, for 50 years, the home of the Chicago Bears as well. Because of the configuration of the football field on the baseball diamond, and the distance to the wall from the end zone (in parts, just six inches), Big Ten officials ruled that all offensive play would go in one direction. Which, you know, is kind of weird.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Going over Thanksgiving plans with Axelrod today. He’s saying Harold’s, I’m saying Popeye’s. Fucking fuck. 08:52:36 AM
Harold’s Chicken Shack is a Chicago fried-chicken chain. It was founded in 1950 by Harold Pierce, and there are more than 62 Harold’s Chicken Shacks in existence now. Harold’s chicken shacks are numbered, but the system is slightly random (for instance, the first shack was #11). Because of the way the franchise agreements are written, there are actually wild inconsistencies between the Shacks, and connoisseurs debate which is the best. The most scientific ranking of all Harold’s Shacks, which was undertaken by journalist Mike Sula in 2006, found that Harold’s No. 55, at 100 West 87th Street, was mathematically the best Shack in the city.
Jesus motherfucking Christ, could it be any more gray and fucking miserable outside? Fuck this shit: stay in. 08:01:18 AM
Monday, November 22, 2010
Carl has hooked up the motherfucking coffee IV, so I might be able to overcome this fucking gray fucking day. 08:38:31 AM
I hope this motherfucking monsoon floods the shit out of my former house. Learn to swim, you piece of shit. 06:17:22 PM
Almost two inches of rain fell on November 22.
I pissed myself laughing at the idea of a motherfucking “Draft Burris Movement.” I may vote for that fuck, so he at least gets one. 06:20:40 PM
Roland Burris, who was selected by Rod Blagojevich to temporarily fill Barack Obama’s Senate seat—following all the controversy involved in Blago’s alleged attempts to sell the seat—had mayoral petitions filed on his behalf by a “Draft Burris Movement.” He never really got past the filing stage and eventually would quietly withdraw.
Personally, I see this as a three-way race now: Me, M. Tricia Lee, and all the other sorry fucking assholes. 06:27:31 PM
There were a number of characters who filed petitions to get on the ballot; one of the most interesting was Lee, a “fourth generation Chicagoan” who offered a unique platform that centered around building two city halls, one for the South and East Sides and one for the North and West Sides. It turns out that she actually lived in Oak Lawn but had used the address of a motel within the city limits on her candidacy papers.
I just keep looking at this motherfucking list of candidates and thinking how it all ended up fucking circus clowns. 10:53:03 PM
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Holy Jesus fuck, Carl the Intern forgot to pay the heating bill, so we’re all fucking huddled around a goddamn hot pot right now. 09:15:59 AM
Trying to squeeze out shits that look like turkey legs, to bring to Chico’s potluck. 09:58:35 AM
Hey, Chico, I would rather be endorsed by Ed Burke’s cum rag than anyone connected with the motherfucking Chicago Public Schools. 04:31:28 PM
Chico received the endorsement of ex-CPS CEO Paul Vallas, who at one time had considered running for governor of Illinois, mayor of Chicago, and even president of the Cook County Board. He was the head of the public schools from 1995 to 2001 and has been cited with improving the system that had been called the “worst in the nation” by US Secretary of Education William Bennett in 1987.
During the NOLA mayor’s race, candidates didn’t try to get Hurricane Katrina’s motherfucking endorsement. But fucking CPS is OK? 04:56:16 PM
Axelrod just walked in looking like the motherfucking Deerhunter. Looked me dead in the eye and said, “We bag a bird tomorrow.” 09:58:02 PM
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
On the way to Wisconsin with Axelrod and Carl the Intern to kill a turkey. Carl’s crying. Fucking vegetarians. 08:11:15 AM
Jesus fucking Christ: Kenosha, Wisconsin, is a place I never need to go again in my motherfucking life. 09:12:09 AM
Kenosha, Wisconsin, is the first major town north of the Illinois border along Lake Michigan.
Axelrod’s been driving this whole time with a knife clenched between his teeth, like he’s some kind of motherfucking pirate. 09:22:22 AM
Details, details: The knife, it turns out, is the only tool Axelrod brought for the hunt. He’s chasing birds around a field, knife raised. 10:45:17 AM
Holy fuck, he got one! Now he’s standing there yelling “BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF THE BIRD!” 11:51:19 AM
There is so much more blood in a turkey than you’d think. Jesus fucking Christ. 03:06:47 PM
Axelrod, me, Carl, and the Civic are completely covered in blood. If we get pulled over, this could get motherfucking ugly. 03:25:04 PM
Plouffe just faxed over the menu for tomorrow. Turns out we picked up the wrong fucking stuffing. Motherfuck. 06:08:24 PM
There are 100,000 fucking assholes crammed into this Dominick’s. Get me my stuffing or I’ll give you something to be fucking thankful for. 06:12:40 PM
They are out of motherfucking stuffing. Fuck every single one of you fucking goddamn motherfuckers right in your fucking face. 06:35:58 PM
Fucking Ari: “Hey, you asshole, I heard you bagged a bird. I’m sending my jet your way. Turkey day in LA—Pants fucking optional.” 08:49:11 PM
Thanksgiving in LA
Thursday, November 25, 2010
“Happy fucking Thanksgiving, you motherfucking ass-hats.” That’s Ari, greeting us as the limo pulled up to his house. 08:53:17 AM
I’ve spent most of the day chasing Geffen’s dogs around the goddamn house. They keep jumping up and grabbing shit off the counters. 08:43:49 PM
For dinner tonight, we’ve got Ari, Geffen & boyfriend, me, Axelrod, Carl the Intern, Carol Burnett, Harrison fucking Ford, and Kanye West. 08:53:13 PM
Chicago hip-hop artist Kanye West became a bit character in the narrative at this point, making multiple appearances. His album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, had just been released on November 22 and was at the front of my mind.
Carol’s been drinking for like five hours now, and Harrison’s been sulking in a corner for some fucking reason. 08:55:19 PM
Dinner was supposed to start an hour ago. I swear to god, I’m going to just start gnawing off my own fucking arm. 08:56:43 PM
We’re late because Carl the Intern was playing football with Geffen’s boyfriend and knocked over the fucking turkey deep fryer. 09:01:25 PM
Carol keeps hitting on David Geffen and nobody has the heart to tell her she’d have a better shot at a bowl of cranberry sauce. 09:04:58 PM
Kanye keeps bragging that his green bean casserole will “knock you on your ass.” 09:11:35 PM
This whole fucking dinner is a goddamn waiting game on Axelrod and his motherfucking deep fried turkey. Any fucking time now. 09:15:53 PM
Fuck this. Me and Carol and Kanye are off to find a motherfucking taco truck. 09:32:36 PM
Carol Burnett’s ordering tacos for the three of us—combo of cabeza, tripa, and buche. She fucking calls it “The Hot Mess.” 10:11:20 PM
Sitting on a curb with Kanye West, Carol Burnett, a pile of tacos and a bottle of Hennessy. Happy motherfucking Thanksgiving. 10:19:02 PM
Friday, November 26, 2010
Stayed out all night with Carol and Kanye, just walking the fuck around. Now we’re hitting the stores. BLACK FUCKING FRIDAY!!! 08:29:09 AM
Holy fuck, Carol got the greatest deal on a back massager I have ever fucking seen in my life. 09:03:57 AM
And Kanye got like fucking 80% off an amazing fucking set of bathroom towels. Bed Bath & Beyond FTMFW. 09:04:37 AM
Got back to Ari’s with my rental Yaris stuffed with half-price DVDs, and Axelrod’s standing there: “Your residency is challenged.” Fuck me. 04:41:11 PM
The challenges to Emanuel’s residency began to roll in the day after Thanksgiving. By the end of it, more than 30 people had challenged his residency, based on the fact that section 3.1-10-5 of the Illinois Municipal Code states, “A person is not eligible for an elective municipal office unless that person is a qualified elector of the municipality and has resided in the municipality at least one year next preceding the election or appointment.” While that seems cut-and-dried—Emanuel did not live in Chicago the year prior to announcing his candidacy—another section of the code states, “No elector or spouse shall be deemed to have lost his or her residence in any precinct or election district in this State by reason of his or her absence on business of the United States, or of this State.” The argument made by election law attorney Burt Odelson, the most vocal of the challengers, was that the intention of that clause was and is for military service.
I’m going to watch two DVDs, eat a motherfucking In-N-Out, check out Kanye’s dolphin tank, then get on a plane and fight this shit. FUCK. 04:52:45 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, dolphins are motherfucking graceful fucking animals. 07:22:30 PM
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Strategy session: Just how fucked are the fucking fucks that are trying to fuck us? Very fucking fucked. 03:26:06 PM
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Heading down to heckle Meeks at his church. He wants to fuck with where I live, I’ll fuck him right back. 09:42:02 AM
So here’s the thing about the residency challenges: nobody ever took credit for coordinating them or otherwise orchestrating them. All accusations by @MayorEmanuel, such as this reference to Meeks, were pure fiction, best I know.
Alright, front row, asshole. Motherfucking god me, you stupid motherfucker. 10:45:07 AM
Half hour until it’s my motherfucking birthday. You fucking motherfuckers had better have gotten me something fucking nice. 11:32:44 PM
Monday, November 29, 2010
MOTHERFUCKING MIDNIGHT. IT’S MY MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY MOTHERFUCKERS. 12:00:07 AM
Carl the Intern gave me the biggest cup of coffee I’ve ever seen. It’s motherfucking enormous! I’m crying like a baby here. 07:58:14 AM
Fuck yes: Axelrod brought over a stuffed bear holding a “happy birthday” balloon. I named him Peaches. 08:38:45 AM
Fax from Plouffe: “I got you just what you wanted: an election lawyer that would make Jesus piss his fucking robes.” 08:43:57 AM
Axelrod keeps telling me there’s a “secret birthday surprise” later. It’s always motherfucking Chuck E. Cheese. 09:08:05 AM
Also, Axelrod got spinner rims for his Civic and is trying to pass them off as a present for me. “But you’ll look awesome.” 09:16:50 AM
Meeks, Chico, and Burris have each sent fake residency papers with the note, “I got you what you really wanted.” Real fucking funny. 12:48:41 PM
Braun just sent flowers though, because she’s motherfucking classy. 12:49:31 PM
I’d expect that Davis will get the memo that it’s my birthday in about six weeks, and issue a statement in three more. Slow motherfucker. 12:52:36 PM
Holy fuck: Axelrod’s surprise gift is a bar of Ex-Lax and the key to the motherfucking city council chamber. 05:10:09 PM
Between the Ex-Lax and these two boxes of Fiber One, I’m going to be able to craft the fucking Burnham Plan of shit. 05:18:36 PM
The Burnham Plan is a city planning document crafted by legendary urban planner and architect Daniel Burnham. Crafted over 100 years ago, it is still spoken of in hushed tones.
Birthday: (1) take a shit in the council chambers; (2) pick up Penny Pritzker and Samurai Mike Singletary; (3) taco pizza at Chuck E. Cheese. 05:39:17 PM
“Samurai” Mike Singletary was one of the leading defensive linemen in the 1985 Super Bowl Champion Chicago Bears.
Heading over to the city council chambers now. I’ve got to admit: Axelrod’s rims do look motherfucking sweet. 05:54:45 PM
My ass is a brown fountain of motherfucking justice! Best birthday ever!! 06:10:17 PM
Took a while longer to finish up in the city council than I thought. But I’ll tell you this: that shit was a motherfucking masterpiece. 08:05:18 PM
As a result, we were late picking up Penny and Samurai Mike. They’d been drinking the whole time they were waiting. Fucking amazing. 08:06:04 PM
You haven’t fucking lived until you’ve heard Penny Pritzker do her rendition of the “Samurai Mike” rap from the Super Bowl Shuffle. 08:14:40 PM
Mike Singletary is up on stage with that motherfucking Chuck E. Cheese robot mouse. I think Axelrod may choke, he’s laughing so hard. 08:29:32 PM
This trip to Chuck E. Cheese just confirms it: I am the motherfucking king of whack-a-mole! 09:27:55 PM
Driving Lake Shore Drive in Axelrod’s Civic, rain coming in the missing window. Penny, Samurai Mike, and I just fucking freestyling. YES. 10:49:02 PM
“The clock’s tickin’, I just count the hours / Stop trippin’, I’m trippin’ off the power / Till then, fuck that—the world’s OURS.” 10:56:55 PM
Stumbling into bed. Wet, hoarse, happy. Fifty-one is going to be all fucking right. 11:36:26 PM
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Post-birthday hangover means that I’m going to make Meeks see motherfucking god for this shit he’s pulling with my tenant. 08:19:01 AM
One sideshow of the campaign that didn’t appear in many of the @MayorEmanuel storylines (because, honestly, it disgusted me personally) was that Rob Halpin, the tenant living in Rahm Emanuel’s house, was actually himself briefly a candidate for mayor. In a city that’s well known for political dirty tricks, this felt like an especially dirty one. There is, however, no known connection between Meeks and Halpin.
If you are running for mayor of Chicago, do not fuck with me today. I will take this ice pack off my head and chop your fucking dick off. 08:26:10 AM
Strategy session: we’re going to contest everything up to and including the existence of the motherfucking City of Chicago. 10:25:43 AM
So 21 Chicagoans have filed objections to my candidacy. The other 2,853,093 think I’m fucking amazing. I can live with that. 04:25:10 PM
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Fuck this motherfucking snow right in its motherfucking nimbostratus cloud formation. 08:41:25 AM
Axelrod’s been standing outside, shovel in hand, for three hours now, like he’s Nanook of the fucking North. 08:52:23 AM
There was not actually much snow that day.
I have so much fucking Hanukkah shopping to finish. Fuck this motherfucking lunar calendar bullshit. 09:29:43 AM
All this “starting at sundown” shit would be a lot fucking easier if sundown wasn’t in the middle of the goddamn afternoon. 04:14:28 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, it turns out that Carl the Intern used to hustle kids on the dreidel back in Hebrew school. 06:47:44 PM
Thanks to him, we’re up to our ears in fucking Hanukkah gelt. 06:53:26 PM
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Holy fucking motherfucking fuck, where the fucking fuck is the motherfucking coffee. 07:48:31 AM
Danny Davis would be a worthy motherfucking opponent if it was 1982. 07:58:32 AM
And Gery Chico would be a threat if we were running for president of the fucking PTA. 07:59:55 AM
And Braun would have a lock if we were competing for placement on a motherfucking Trivial Pursuit card. 08:01:51 AM
New slogan: “It’s 2010, this is for mayor, and Trivial Pursuit is for fucking pussies. Vote Emanuel.” 08:09:49 AM
Keep me locked in this room with David Hoffman much longer and I’m going to turn into a fucking arsenic-eating life-form too. 01:41:43 PM
Twofer alert—NASA announced the discovery of an arsenic-eating bacteria in a salt lake in California at the same time that Emanuel held a press conference with David Hoffman to unveil his ethics plan. Hoffman lost the Democratic Senate primary against Alexi Giannoulias. Prior to that losing bid, Hoffman had been a federal prosecutor and, later, inspector general for the City of Chicago—where he investigated hiring practices within city hall. He is, if truth be told, exactly the guy you’d want to help you write an ethics plan.
Seriously, there is a reason this guy lost to dumb-fucking Alexi. And that reason is he is a motherfucking painfully boring motherfucker. 01:58:35 PM
Seriously, I just look at that motherfucker and I get sleepy. They should stand him outside mattress stores. Make a fucking fortune. 02:03:29 PM
Sure, he’s a fucking stand-up guy, and I’m fucking glad he’s on ou … zzzzzzzzzzzzz. 02:12:50 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, I almost burnt the motherfucking house down lighting that second candle. 06:35:49 PM
Friday, December 3, 2010
Motherfuck! The! Sleep! Of! Hoffman! Is! The! Greatest! Sleep! Of! All! Motherfucking! Time! Hoff! Me! Again! Motherfucker! 07:59:32 AM
You know what’s just fucking adorable? That Ed Burke still thinks he fucking matters. 09:38:02 AM
Axelrod just ripped the bumper off his Civic trying to attach a fucking plow to it. “Just trying to be prepared.” 10:31:30 AM
Weather reports were promising four to eight inches of snow in the Chicago area, the first big snow of the year.
What are you waiting for? Motherfuck every fucking thing, it’s Friday fucking night! No snow yet, you assholes; get out there! 05:11:43 PM
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Fuck this snow. Fuck this snow. Fuck this motherfucking snow. 08:04:30 AM
I was actually in Phoenix, Arizona, this weekend, and had to rely on a weather app on my phone and news from my wife to know what the snow situation was.
I’m out here fucking shoveling this shit myself because Axelrod has been fucking catatonic since he heard motherfucking Ron Santo died. 08:09:35 AM
Ron Santo played third base for the Chicago Cubs from 1960 to 1974, and later was the radio announcer for the team, where he billed himself as “the single Biggest Cubs fan of all time.” He died December 3 of complications from bladder cancer and diabetes.
Worst fucking part is that I’m out here in fucking wingtips because my motherfucking boots are in the attic of my fucking rented house. 08:25:00 AM
My feet are so fucking numb that I’m considering setting them on fucking fire. 10:02:40 AM
Also, Carl the Intern won’t make me a hot cocoa because he’s sitting shivah with Axelrod over Santo. Fuck me. 10:03:46 AM
Axelrod’s outside now with a chainsaw carving a motherfucking Ron Santo ice sculpture right now. 02:54:35 PM
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Dug out Axelrod’s Civic to go buy some boots. Put fucking five lawn chairs and an old ironing board in the spot. 10:50:38 AM
In Chicago, if you shovel the snow out of your parking space, you fill it with some crap from your basement (typically lawn chairs), which marks it as yours. It’s informally called the “dibs” system, and every year there are news reports of stabbings and deaths over moving someone’s dibs pile and parking in their space. If you’re not from Chicago, that was probably the craziest sentence you’ve ever read. If you’re from here, you’re just nodding and saying, “I’d do it too.”
We drove by Chico’s house and I pissed “Fuck you you fucking motherfucker” in the snow. 01:24:22 PM
Monday, December 6, 2010
Motherfucking coffee fucking commence! 07:52:42 AM
Standing in front of City Hall, giving the fucking double birds to all these dumb fucks walking into the Board of Election office. 10:11:32 AM
The Chicago Board of Election began to sort through the ballot challenges, though Emanuel’s first hearing wouldn’t be for another week.
Elizabeth Edwards was fucking classy—too bad her husband was such a fucking douche-cock. And also about the cancer. 05:15:28 PM
News had just broken that Elizabeth Edwards, ex-wife of former presidential candidate John Edwards, was no longer treating her cancer.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Holy fuck, it’s motherfucking cold as motherfucking shit outside. 08:04:05 AM
So my tenant isn’t running for mayor after all. What a fucking motherfucking shock. 10:24:36 AM
Just hours before the Chicago Board of Elections reviewed his petition, Rob Halpin withdrew his name.
It warms my asshole to see dumb motherfuckers get kicked off the ballot. 10:40:08 AM
I would rather hang out with Elizabeth Edwards’ corpse than have to go to one of these motherfucking “mayoral forums.” 06:10:00 PM
It was announced that Elizabeth Edwards had died.
Too motherfucking soon? 06:15:28 PM
But really, these fucking candidate forums look absolutely motherfucking awful. 06:20:12 PM
There were dozens of mayoral forums—less formal than debates, usually focused around a single topic, and organized by a group interested in that topic. Especially in this early stage of the campaign, they attracted many of the down-ballot candidates. Emanuel did not attend a single one.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
I would rather stick my dick to a frozen fucking flagpole than answer another motherfucking residency question. 09:07:34 AM
Axelrod has replaced all his Santo candles with Elizabeth candles. Rough fucking week for that guy. 09:18:48 AM
Axelrod’s taking his heartbreak out in ice sculpture: joining Santo is Elizabeth Edwards, a unicorn, and a fucking sweet T-Rex. 02:50:19 PM
Also, he’s got a fucking knitted mustache pouch to keep his ’stache warm. 02:51:56 PM
Spending the last night of Hanukkah with David Hoffman. It might be Yom fucking Kippur by the time he gets all eight candles lit. 05:24:14 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, I’m really hoping this liquor I’ve got can last for eight fucking days, because I may be trapped here that long. 05:49:29 PM
At this point, I’m holding my hand above the menorah, just to feel something. 06:22:37 PM
Hoffman finally got the final candle lit. That guy sure does know a lot about the motherfucking Maccabees. Fuck me. 08:18:53 PM
The Residency Hearings
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Strategy session for residency hearing: Axelrod says no to pulling my cock out and asking, “You want this shit Chicago style?” 07:49:48 AM
He also says no to pulling down my pants, spreading my cheeks and saying “Eat my motherfucking deep dish.” 07:56:30 AM
Getting ready for the residency hearing tomorrow by drinking every motherfucking thing in the kitchen. Up next: Baileys and dish soap. 06:45:14 PM
Motherfucking pro tip: soy sauce and fucking cognac. Motherfucking amazing. 07:53:16 PM
Axelrod is doing yogurt and beer shooters. 08:09:25 PM
Friday, December 10, 2010
Holy fucking fuck, I need some motherfucking coffee poured directly into my fucking mouth right this motherfucking second. 08:05:44 AM
Fucking annoying hearing today that leads to even more motherfucking annoying hearings next week. Democracy is a bitch. 04:21:44 PM
Fax from Plouffe: “We need to work on your likeability before your testimony.” Faxed him back a picture of my asshole. 04:39:48 PM
I don’t give a thousand fucking fucks; it is motherfucking finally Friday night. 05:15:14 PM
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Axelrod and I are filling the house with donuts and seeing if we can eat our motherfucking way out. 09:56:02 AM
Motherfuck this motherfucking rain. 02:22:03 PM
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Axelrod was waking us up every hour last night as part of his “readiness patrol” and not a single fucking flake hit the goddamn ground. 08:22:25 AM
I’m so tired I think I’m going to vomit, and now it’s motherfucking snowing like a motherfuck. 08:46:51 AM
Carl the Intern scheduled a fucking presser about education in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm and the motherfucking Bears game. 11:48:41 AM
Pretty sure it’s payback for making Carl follow Chico around this week pretending to record him, just to fucking fuck with Chico’s head. 11:50:49 AM
Gery Chico had released a video earlier in the week that showed campaign workers for Emanuel surreptitiously videotaping Chico campaign appearances. He titled the video “Transparency: Rahm Style.”
Fuck this motherfucking football game. Fuck it right in its snowy motherfucking ass. 04:03:33 PM
This was the first live-tweeted game I did. Earlier in the week, Bears safety Danieal Manning visited my son’s grade school, and he came home and announced that he was now a football fan. He hung the free poster they gave him up on his wall and memorized the game dates. He begged to watch the game, so we did.
Motherfucking fucking fuck fuckers. What the fucking fuck game is fucking Cutler fucking playing? 04:24:08 PM
I’m going to go outside and have Axelrod whip iceballs at my cock. Has to be more fun than this motherfucking football game. 04:38:51 PM
Motherfucking Cutler is a motherfucking cocktard. 05:55:35 PM
The Bears were blown out by the New England Patriots, 36–7.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Who the fuck replaced Chicago with the motherfucking ice planet Hoth? 07:58:45 AM
Single-digit temperatures ruled the day. It was cold enough to want to crawl inside a Tauntaun to keep warm.
I know it might not send the right message, but we’re taking the Imperial Walker to get to the residency hearing. Fuck the Tauntauns. 08:29:48 AM
Axelrod just got in from gassing up the Walker and his mustache looks like it was part of the Shackleton expedition. Icicles. 08:54:02 AM
Ernest Shackleton was one of the great Antarctic explorers of the early 20th century.
Carl the Intern is cramming for tomorrow’s testimony with me while Axelrod is out on a pizza run. Going to be a late motherfucking night. 06:05:10 PM
Emanuel was giving his testimony in the residency hearings the next day. And @MayorEmanuel was spending the night boning up on Chicago facts, as if he were taking a US citizenship exam.
Did you know there are 77 communities in Chicago? Motherfucking take THAT, Board of Election Commissioners! 06:13:04 PM
Chicago derives its name from the motherfucking Miami-Illinois tribal word for “wild onion.” Fuck yes: shikaakwa. 06:18:15 PM
Motherfucking flag’s four stars: Fort Dearborn, the Great Fire, the World’s Columbian Exposition, and the Century of fucking Progress. 06:26:38 PM
Fuck studying for this motherfucking testimony. Axelrod’s back with pizza and beer. Your Honor, it’s time to fucking drink. 06:32:23 PM
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Motherfucking six fucking degrees? Fuck this motherfucking bullshit. 07:32:44 AM
I went out to grab the paper and now my motherfucking balls are frozen to my motherfucking leg. 07:52:30 AM
Axelrod’s outside with a hair dryer trying to unfreeze the fucking fuel line on his Civic. He promises we’ll be at City Hall by nine. 08:19:16 AM
And the Civic won’t fucking start. Axelrod, Carl, and I are riding the motherfucking bus. Fucking perfect. 08:41:41 AM
Frozen balls, riding the bus, and giving fucking testimony to 25 motherfucking assholes. A+ motherfucking day. 08:45:46 AM
This residency hearing was a rather unique setup: Any petitioner was allowed to question Emanuel. About anything. As a result, Emanuel didn’t just answer questions about his residency but about the 1993 shootout in Waco, Texas; whether his job as chief of staff was “a 9 to 5”; whether he was financing his campaign; and whether he was a member of the Communist Party. The media reports, which used the word “circus” more than you’d think, included lines like this, from the Chicago Tribune’s live blog: “An activist known as Queen Sister Georzetta Deloney, who wore a golden headpiece, offered more statements than questions.” (Deloney at one point referred to a coat in Emanuel’s storage space as a “technicolor dreamcoat.” Emanuel replied: “I’d like the record to show it’s not a technicolor dreamcoat. It’s an imitation leather jacket my grandfather gave my father.”) In all, the petitioners, which included election lawyers and regular citizens, kept Emanuel on the stand for eleven hours.
Someone keep count on how many times I “itch” my eye with my middle finger during testimony today. I bet 352 fucking times. 08:57:43 AM
In the bathroom at City Hall, trying to dethaw my ballsack at the hand dryer and Dock fucking Walls walks in. Fuck this day. 09:12:35 AM
A former aide to Harold Washington, William “Dock” Walls had run for mayor of Chicago repeatedly and was the only candidate to openly challenge Emanuel’s residency. His lawyer, Andrew Finko, was one of the questioners at the hearing.
Well here goes motherfucking nothing. 10:00:13 AM
I swear to god, if Axelrod shows up at lunch break with fucking Subway, I’m going to completely lose my motherfucking shit. 10:27:02 AM
These questions are awesome. I’ll take “Fuck You in the Motherfucking Armpit” for $500, please. 11:59:06 AM
I am going to drink more alcohol than you can ever possibly imagine when this motherfucking godforsaken shitstorm of a day is over. 02:12:10 PM
Five hours of this testimony and I’ve come to one conclusion: people are motherfucking assholes. 02:57:38 PM
To each one of you motherfuckers asking me questions: in three months I’ll be mayor and you’ll still just be some dumb motherfucker. 03:19:23 PM
Some dumb motherfucker … that I hate. Hope you enjoy today. 03:20:21 PM
Well, that’s over. Motherfucking fucking motherfuck. 05:08:06 PM
It actually wasn’t over. The hearing wrapped up at almost 9 pm.
Off to eat a steak the size of my head, then go home and punch a fucking mirror until my knuckles are motherfucking pulp. 05:32:14 PM
Operation Clog Every Toilet
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Holy motherfucking mother of god, I need to swim in a goddamn fucking ocean of motherfucking coffee right fucking now. 07:24:45 AM
Carl the Intern makes this breakfast that’s a pancake wrapped around a hard-boiled egg with a sausage stuck through it. Fucking incredible. 08:22:39 AM
Sent Carl the Intern over to City Hall. Operation “Clog Every Motherfucking Toilet in the Fucking Place” is under way. 09:47:31 AM
All water flows downhill. Those motherfuckers in the basement hearing room will be swimming in shit by 1 pm. Motherfucking payback. 10:13:43 AM
Axelrod’s watching video of my hearing and listening to the “Tron” soundtrack. Looked at me in tears: “Life’s easier in the Grid.” 10:43:04 AM
I don’t even know how this is fucking possible, but somehow Carl the Intern is stuck in the sewer pipes below City Hall. Fuck. 02:46:44 PM
Fuck, now Axelrod is fucking stuck under City Hall too. 03:49:20 PM
Fucking goddamn motherfuck. I’m fucking stuck down here too. All three of us, in the fucking sewers below City Hall. 04:53:21 PM
Someone make a note to remind me that when I’m mayor, the first order of business is to fix the fucking City Hall sewer access door latch. 05:06:53 PM
Downside: looks like we’ll be down here for a while. Upside: Axelrod’s got like 30 fucking Slim Jims in his fanny pack. 05:20:44 PM
Emptied our pockets: 25 Slim Jims, four packs of NutraSweet, three pens, and a fucking pocket guide to Midwestern water fowl. So we’re good. 05:38:01 PM
It’s actually kind of beautiful down here. Quiet, except for the sound of water flowing. You forget where you are—until someone flushes. 05:44:32 PM
Forced open a door and discovered Jane Byrne’s secret fucking office. A desk, a wet box of smokes, and a stack of Playgirls from 1981. 06:57:20 PM
Jane Byrne was mayor of Chicago from 1979 to 1983.
Ate the last Slim Jim. Fucking fuck motherfuck. 07:31:42 PM
It takes them less than two hours to eat 25 Slim Jims.
The plan: we’re going to ride Jane Byrne’s sex dungeon door down this river of shit and on to motherfucking freedom. 07:42:47 PM
Freedom! We’re floating down the middle of Lake Calumet. There’s snow in the air and the stench of shit on our clothes. Magical. 09:19:21 PM
Lake Calumet, located on the city’s far South Side, is a heavily industrialized lake. Due to the pollution from decades of industry, significant parts of the Lake Calumet area were declared a Superfund cleanup site in 2010.
Movie Night (part two)
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Holy fuck: I’ve just woken up with a motherfucking raging case of pinkeye. I want to claw my eyeballs out of my fucking head. 07:36:14 AM
Axelrod too: he’s sitting in the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas on his motherfucking eyes, moaning. 07:41:49 AM
Turns out Axelrod’s mostly moaning about having to wait 16 hours until the midnight opening of motherfucking “Tron.” 07:53:30 AM
Tron: Legacy, which came out that day, is the sequel to the 1982 movie about a man who gets digitized into a mainframe computer. As a nerdy eight-year-old I found it, seriously, the greatest movie I’d ever seen.
That also explains why he’s wearing a light-up suit. 07:54:24 AM
Jesus fucking Christ, Carl the Intern just walked in. His eyes look like they’re having their fucking period. 08:00:19 AM
Axelrod just showed me the “Tron” trailer. Holy fucking fuck, grown fucking adults watch that bullshit? 08:19:09 AM
If Axelrod doesn’t stop talking about “Tron” soon, I’m going to download his fucking ass into a computer for the next 25 years. 11:39:57 AM
Carl brought Peppermint Mochas and Axelrod drank his, but he’s lactose intolerant. Now there’s puke down the front of his blinky “Tron” suit. 03:20:17 PM
Axelrod just threw his light-up “Tron” frisbee through the front window. Fuck. 05:36:07 PM
Standing in this line for “Tron” with Axelrod and Carl the Intern. These fucking light-up body suits are both demeaning and fucking cold. 08:26:07 PM
Meeks just rolled up to the theater in like a fucking for-real lightcycle. His red suit looks amazing too. Fucking motherfuck. 08:51:48 PM
Carol Moseley Braun just pulled up with full-sized Master Control head fucking glowing on the back of a pickup. We look like fucking chumps. 09:47:22 PM
Gery Chico’s just dressed like Gery Chico, but that’s because he’s seeing “Love and Other Drugs.” Again. 10:01:19 PM
Sunshine Fucking Baseball
Friday, December 17, 2010
Motherfucking coffee. Sweet motherfucking relief. 08:15:23 AM
New slogan: “Don’t fuck with a guy with a huge fucking crawlspace. Emanuel ’11.” 08:37:10 AM
One of the points brought up at the residency hearing was that Emanuel claimed to be storing a lot of personal items—including his wife’s wedding dress and a jacket his grandfather gave him—in the basement of his house. However, the tenants testified that they saw no boxes in the basement. Emanuel said that this was because the boxes were in a crawlspace and, eventually, his lawyers produced photographic evidence of an enormous crawlspace under an extension Emanuel had put on the house. Calling it a “crawlspace” doesn’t really do it justice. It is large enough to store dozens of boxes. The photographs of the crawlspace showed that it included a full-sized New York Times newspaper box—which, when you think of it, is both bad-ass and really weird.
Riding in the Civic to hook back up with Ernie Banks. Tonight we’re going to fuck this town until it can’t walk straight. 04:30:40 PM
Earlier in the day Rahm Emanuel had had breakfast with “Mr. Cub” Ernie Banks. Banks is a Chicago legend, having played every one of his 13 years as a professional baseball player for the Cubs, retiring in 1971. He is, by most accounts, incredibly nice.
Fuck this motherfucking week, it’s motherfucking over. Friday night, bitches. 04:46:05 PM
Ernie Banks’ plan: grab his bat, pick up a case of Old Style, and hit the empties through Halpin’s front window. Mr. Motherfucking Cub. 05:06:41 PM
You haven’t lived until you’ve driven around with Ernie Banks hanging out your window yelling, “You just got fucked by Mr. Cub!” 06:11:59 PM
Ernie Banks is standing in the middle of Ashland, taking swings at cars as they drive by. Seriously considering fucking leaving him here. 08:16:04 PM
OK, he’s standing on the roof of a cop car, trying to knock the lights off it, yelling, “Sunshine fucking baseball!” We’re out. 08:29:30 PM
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Motherfucking fuck this Saturday morning meeting in its motherfucking nostril. 08:57:18 AM
Plouffe faxed in a suggestion that we “extend an olive branch” to the other candidates. The only thing I’ll extend is my motherfucking cock. 09:32:35 AM
I’m still stunned about the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell repeal. Figured the Senate was going to stuff it up its ass like they do everything else. 08:41:44 PM
The US Senate had just voted to repeal the Clinton-era “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy that regulated the service of gays and lesbians in the military.
That said, Carl the Intern is fucking thrilled. But he still has to wait two more years before he can enlist. 08:52:02 PM
It took two months, but Carl the Intern finally had a coherent age: he’s 16. And gay.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Christmas next weekend means fucking meetings all motherfucking day today. Fuck you, Jesus. 11:13:00 AM
I would rather be nailed to a motherfucking cross than sit through another five minutes of this fucking marketing presentation. 11:18:22 AM
Working on writing my last residency briefs for tomorrow. End with just “Fuck You,” or “Fuck you, you fucking fucks”? 09:15:03 PM
Fuck this—going to bed. Just signed the papers: “Suck it out of my asshole. Yours, Rahm.” 09:48:35 PM
Monday, December 20, 2010
The stereo in Axelrod’s Civic broke over the summer. Now the radio he lugs around is stuck on the fucking Christmas songs station. Fuck. 09:41:19 AM
Turned in the last paperwork: Seventeen Xeroxes of my cock and three of my asshole. Plus my signature. Done. With. This. Shit. 10:00:23 AM
New office. Carl wired the fucking phones wrong, so the calls are for the curry place down the block. Axelrod’s tandoori is amazing. Phew. 11:50:08 AM
Axelrod’s been driving around delivering curry all day, so Carl and I have spent the day playing a fucking wicked game of foosball. 05:01:22 PM
Axelrod just called from “the weathercenter” (what the fucking fuck) to tell us that it’s snowing. He pulled over to put snow tires on. 05:57:44 PM
I’m all for motherfucking winter safety, but Axelrod had better get here with the chicken tikka we ordered before kickoff. 06:37:45 PM
Motherfucking Chicago fucking Bears fucking football. Fuck yes. 08:17:45 PM
The Bears played the Minnesota Vikings.
Hey, Favre, welcome to motherfucking Chicago. 08:41:12 PM
Halftime and Axelrod’s not back with our Chicken Tikka. Still has 15 deliveries to go. All Carl knows how to make are Hot Pockets. Fuck. 09:14:26 PM
Axelrod just called. The Civic spun out on Elston. With our fucking chicken. Fucking motherfuck these fucking football snacks. 09:59:07 PM
Axelrod got the Civic unstuck. Bring that motherfucking chicken home. 10:27:34 PM
Post-season, you glorious motherfucking motherfuckers. 10:40:24 PM
Axelrod just showed up. 39 seconds to enjoy this fucking chicken. 10:43:42 PM
Going to pound a beer and text Favre a picture of my dick. Bears fuck yes. 10:46:27 PM
The Bears won decisively, 40–14, clinching the NFC North division title.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Holy Jesus fucking Christ, I just threw my back out shoveling that 800-pound snow. Fuck fucking motherfuckers. 08:02:56 AM
Holy fucking fuck, I took way too many muscle relaxers for my back. I feel like Gumby. 12:07:42 PM
Spent the entire day flat on my back tripping on muscle relaxers and not giving a fuck about any fucking thing. It’s been fucking glorious. 08:05:42 PM
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Hey, Chico—bend the fuck over, you fucking shitbag. Welcome to the campaign. 08:44:48 AM
The Chicago Tribune’s lead story that day was “Gery Chico made millions from law firm that lobbies City Hall.” The story explained that Chico’s law firm, Chico & Nunes, “is a registered City Hall lobbyist for more than 40 companies.”
Seriously, who the fuck releases their tax returns when they know they’re filled with lobbying cash? You dumb fucking fuck. 08:50:54 AM
Carl’s stepmom just gave all of us tickets to the “Nutcracker Ballet” tonight. First off: what the fuck. Second off: should be me onstage. 03:14:49 PM
Fun fact about Rahm Emanuel: He used to be a dancer. A good one, by all accounts. Out of high school he was offered a scholarship to the Joffrey Ballet School, Chicago’s renowned dance company. He turned it down to attend Sarah Lawrence, where he continued to dance.
Busy day driving Axelrod’s Civic by other candidates’ offices, pelting them with snowballs and yelling “43 points, bitches!” 03:22:02 PM
The Chicago Retail Merchants Association had just released a poll that had Emanuel at 43%. His next closest competitor was Gery Chico at 11%, a 32% gap.
I’m going to be spending the next two hours figuring out what to wear to the ballet. Nothing is goddamn good enough for those people. 04:41:23 PM
Seriously, you try and try and try, and the Joffrey motherfucking Ballet just fucking judges you anyway. 05:02:20 PM
Axelrod just showed up dressed in a fucking tuxedo T-shirt. “Let’s get this fun over with.” 05:34:13 PM
I went with the straight black tux, tie, and shirt. Black Swan, motherfuckers. Let’s do this fucking ballet. 06:34:08 PM
I’d never actually seen the film Black Swan, but it had been released earlier in December and was still garnering quite a bit of press.
Five minutes in, Axelrod’s already fucking snoring. 07:05:35 PM
Who the fuck is playing Drosselmeyer? He needs to hang up the motherfucking tights. Amateur fucking hour. 07:17:07 PM
Seriously, Clara may as well just pull down her tutu and take a shit on the stage. Would be more elegant than her dancing. 07:29:59 PM
It’s plié, dégagé, motherfucking balancé, you fucking cows. 07:39:51 PM
I would rather rim James Meeks’ asshole than have to endure another minute watching the Mouse King waddle around. 07:52:29 PM
You call that a motherfucking sugar plum fairy? 08:09:28 PM
Back when I danced, the Joffrey Ballet meant something. Now it apparently means fat fucking fucks floundering around a stage. 09:52:48 PM
Now I know why they call it the “Nutcracker”—I feel like my nuts have been fucking cracked in goddamn half. Wake up, Axelrod, this shit is over. 09:54:55 PM
Thursday, December 23, 2010
ELIGIBLE. Choke on that, you motherfucking bitches. 06:31:58 AM
The way ballot challenges work in Chicago is that the Chicago Board of Election Commissioners gets a recommendation from the hearing officer. The Board itself makes a final ruling that can then be appealed to the Circuit Court. The hearing officer for Emanuel’s case, Joseph Morris, issued his ruling early in the morning—the original expectation had been that it would be released the day before.
Been drinking Irish coffees since two in the morning, celebrating this residency shit. Fuck all the motherfucking haters. 07:52:04 AM
All you motherfuckers can stick your motherfucking objections up your ass. RESIDENT, bitch. 08:36:06 AM
Those stupid fucking objectors had to submit their home addresses. Think they’ll be getting a visit from the ghost of Christmas yet to come. 08:45:12 AM
Fuck yes two times, bitches. 11:56:36 AM
The Board of Election reaffirmed the recommendation by Morris.
It’s no Christmas fucking miracle, it’s a Christmas fucking fact. As real as the motherfucking virgin birth. Believe! 12:20:34 PM
I feel like a new man. Sent a street boy to fetch the prize turkey. “What, the one as big as me?” No, dumbfuck, the tiny one. 12:54:58 PM
Major upside of this residency bullshit being over: I can stop being folksy at your motherfucking L stops. 03:43:16 PM
Hey Meeks, too bad your ass got sacked. 04:43:27 PM
On the same day that Emanuel’s residency was confirmed by the Chicago Board of Election, James Meeks announced that he was withdrawing from the mayoral race. Technically, it was the last day to withdraw.
Axelrod and I had a great James Meeks drinking game. Take a shot when he said stupid shit. Could fuck you up in seconds. 05:09:17 PM
Without Meeks, this race got even fucking boringer. I’m going to be fucking catatonic by motherfucking February. 05:18:20 PM
Last few hours to be like Meeks and get the fuck out of this race. Stay in and I will make the next two months of your life a living hell. 08:33:43 PM
What a Fucking Blockhead
Friday, December 24, 2010
Plouffe has us out here freezing our fucking asses off bell ringing on State Street. We have a bet going to see who raises the most. 10:07:07 AM
Right now, Axelrod, Carl the Intern, and I are getting fucking creamed by the motherfucking bucket drummer kids. Fuck this shit. 10:30:26 AM
Axelrod ducked into the bathroom and came out dressed as one of those silver robot guys. He’s going to raise a fucking fortune. 11:56:53 AM
Axelrod must have 100 fucking people crowded around him. I need to step it up here. Sending Carl the Intern to the Christmas tree lot. 12:15:06 PM
Carl’s back from the tree lot. He bought the shittiest tree ever. Hung one ornament and it bent. What a fucking blockhead. 12:40:55 PM
The original plan was to do a whole Charlie Brown Christmas thing, with Axelrod giving the famous Linus speech. But this single Tweet felt a lot better. Summed up the whole show in 140 characters.
Goddamn it, that’s it: I’m paying the fucking bucket-drummer kids $500 an hour to drum for me. Fuck you, Robot Axelrod. 01:14:24 PM
Final haul from bell ringing: Carl brought in $22.73; Robot Axelrod, $271.58; my drummer boys, $321.93. They cost $2k. Fucking Christmas. 05:16:16 PM
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Merry motherfucking Christmas, you stupid fucking fucks. 08:14:22 AM
The only thing open in this fucking city is a motherfucking CVS. Axelrod, Carl the Intern and I have been wandering the aisles for hours. 09:20:23 PM
I’m trying to convince Axelrod that we should buy a bottle of Nair and just fucking obliterate his mustache. 09:41:30 PM
We’ve loaded up our cart with every fucking “As Seen on TV” piece of shit they have here. Snuggies for motherfucking everyone. 09:45:10 PM
Bought every bottle of lube in the store and are going to coat Davis’s office sidewalk with them. Slip and slide, motherfucker. 10:04:12 PM
After that, we’re going to head home, do Benadryl shots, and play motherfucking Uno. Christmas fucking sucks. 10:09:23 PM
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Motherfucking Benadryl hangover. Fuck. 08:50:25 AM
Motherfuck this snow right in its motherfucking lake-effect ass. 09:05:04 AM
Ten inches of lake-effect snow fell the day after Christmas. Lake-effect snow happens when cold winter air moves over warmer lake water. Typically, Northwest Indiana and Michigan get hammered by lake-effect snow, because the prevailing winds move west to east. But occasionally, near the shore, Chicago gets pummeled too.
Axelrod is a motherfucking parking-space shoveling artist. They should hang his fucking shovel in the Art Institute. 11:07:03 AM
He’s marked his space with 14 lawn chairs, an ironing board, and a pyramid of milk crates. He’ll fucking shank someone if they move them. 11:09:37 AM
Carl the Intern’s stepmother just stopped by to drop off an extra pair of snowpants for him. She parked in Axelrod’s space. Fuck. 11:34:05 AM
Axelrod just pulled up, jumped out of his car, and keyed “FUCK YOU IN THE ASS” into the hood of her Escalade. Shit. 11:38:17 AM
Hey, New York, you just got fucked by the motherfucking Chicago fucking Bears. 03:22:33 PM
The Bears beat the New York Jets 38–34.
Who Really Gives a Fuck Week
Monday, December 27, 2010
Holy fucking fuck, someone get me a fucking cup of fucking coffee right fucking now. 08:36:32 AM
Off to the Millennium Park ice rink. I’m going to show some motherfuckers what the motherfucking Russian Splits are all about. 12:29:36 PM
This motherfucking cold weather makes me realize that Axelrod really needs to up his fucking knowledge of hot liquor drinks. 08:48:39 PM
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Spent most of the night last night dumping buckets of water on Gery Chico’s car. It’s a motherfucking ice cube now. 10:18:02 AM
This time between Christmas and New Year’s may as well be renamed “Who Really Gives a Fuck Week.” 01:39:42 PM
Whoever is advising Davis is doing a motherfucking incredible job. Keep up the fucking fantastic work. 08:26:43 PM
It was reported that former President Bill Clinton would campaign for Emanuel in January. Danny Davis went on newscasts decrying the decision. He told ABC 7 that “There has been tremendous affinity between the African-American community and the Clintons. I would hope to continue that track. I just simply hope that the President would be neutral.”
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Jesus fucking Christ, there is not enough motherfucking coffee in the whole fucking world this morning. 07:33:27 AM
We’re bringing every motherfucking distant fucking relative of Bill Clinton to town, just to make Davis’s head explode. 08:09:20 AM
If your last name even rhymes with Clinton, you’re getting a call from Carl the Intern and a ticket to Chicago on the fucking Greyhound. 08:11:21 AM
We’ve got a guy named Phil Clinton and another guy named Bill Kimpton on the motherfucking Megabus as we speak. 08:29:30 AM
Braun, if you want to get in on this bullshit too, know that we’ve got Hillary Rodman-Klinkton on motherfucking speed dial. 08:32:38 AM
Holy fuck! It’s actually above motherfucking freezing outside right now. Axelrod’s in his fucking Speedo. 11:18:56 AM
Motherfucking melt this fucking snow, you motherfucking southerly breeze. 12:55:21 PM
If it gets above 40 tomorrow, I’m putting on a fireproof suit, jumping in a spaceship, and flying up to fuck the glorious sun. 01:29:32 PM
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Fuck these Angry Birds right in their motherfucking feathered fucking vents. 08:04:32 AM
Angry Birds, a game where you “throw” birds in an attempt to knock down structures and kill green pigs (really), had become a massive, mainstream gaming hit over the Christmas season.
Carl the Intern left his iPod Touch here and I’ve been up most of the fucking night playing it. It is motherfucking maddening. 08:10:34 AM
They give you these motherfucking exploding fucking birds, but then they surround the goddamn pigs with fucking stone blocks? Fuck! 10:16:26 AM
These motherfucking egg-dropping birds are fucking driving me fucking crazy. How the fucking fuck am I supposed to control this shit? 11:41:47 AM
Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this motherfucking green pig fortress bullshit. 12:35:02 PM
These fucking boomerang birds might as well be flying up my own motherfucking asshole for all the fucking help they are. 01:52:09 PM
These giant bowling ball-red birds would be motherfucking amazing if this whole game wasn’t fucking me in the ass right now. 03:09:36 PM
How many fucking levels are in this motherfucking game? Eight-fucking-thousand? Fuck. 04:16:51 PM
I’ve been awake since 7:45 yesterday morning, and have been playing Angry Birds for the last 19 hours. I fucking hate everything. 05:25:18 PM
All I want right now is a motherfucking cheeseburger and to claw my goddamn eyes out. Instead I’m fucking flinging these fucking birds. 05:29:04 PM
Axelrod just stormed into my room, stomped on the iPod, left and locked the door. He left a bucket behind—the fuck is that for? 06:30:20 PM
Axelrod and Carl are sitting outside my door, saying, “We’re doing this because we love you.” Fuck them. I NEED MY MOTHERFUCKING BIRDS. 09:46:57 PM
Also, I really need them to come and empty my motherfucking bucket. Because that shit is fucking full to the top. 09:47:37 PM
birds … birds … birds.…bird … fuck. 11:28:59 PM
2011 Is My Goddamn Year
Friday, December 31, 2010
Motherfucking sweet fucking coffee, there is nothing in the world better than you. Except maybe liquor. Or vaginas. 08:14:18 AM
New Year’s Eve, I am going to bust you the fuck open. 09:23:14 AM
Axelrod’s walking around wearing these fucking huge 2011 novelty glasses and his Speedo. “I’m the Baby fucking New Year.” 10:38:40 AM
Carl the Intern’s stepmom is out of town, so the party’s at his house tonight, you motherfuckers. 12:45:49 PM
Penny Pritzker just called. Her chef is mixing up some homebrew Four Loko for the party tonight. Motherfucking double caffeine. 02:05:43 PM
Ernie Banks keeps popping up on the Caller ID, but we’re all trying to avoid him. Motherfucker cannot hold his liquor. 02:13:36 PM
Oh fuck: “Hey you stupid fucking asshole, guess who flew into town?” It’s Ari. He’s here. 02:16:57 PM
Ari brought guests: Kanye West, three Victoria’s Secret models he calls “the underpants twins,” and Helen Mirren. Helen’s already drunk. 03:35:19 PM
Kanye brought his green bean casserole. Again. “I brought it because it’s fucking delicious.” 03:39:08 PM
Carl’s starting to get nervous about hosting the party. Doesn’t help that Helen Mirren keeps trying to give him a backrub. “Jusht relacsh.” 03:55:27 PM
Samurai Mike Singletary just called to find out if it’s OK if he brings a dessert instead of a side salad. Fuck. 04:06:40 PM
Vince Vaughn just called to say he couldn’t make it. Which is weird, because he wasn’t invited, because he’s a boring motherfucker. 04:13:48 PM
Vaughn grew up in the wealthy Chicago suburb of Lake Forest and is a die-hard Cubs fan.
Jeff Tweedy brought Pictionary. This party is going to get fucking insane. New Year’s motherfucking Eve. 04:45:51 PM
Jeff Tweedy is the frontman for Chicago alt-country band Wilco. Rahm Emanuel is a huge fan.
Holy fucking fuck: Jane motherfucking Byrne just showed up. “This isn’t a goddamn endorsement, kid; I just need to party.” 05:53:46 PM
NUMBER ONE ON THE MOTHERFUCKING BALLOT, BITCHES. 07:36:51 PM
On New Year’s Eve, Danny Davis, who had held the number-one spot on the ballot (Emanuel was number two), announced that he was dropping out of the mayoral race. Carol Moseley Braun was officially declared the “consensus candidate” for the African-American community.
Danny Davis just showed up. “Fuck this mayoral shit, I’m here to party!” He’s doing body shots off Helen Mirren. Fuck yes. 08:01:17 PM
It turns out Danny Davis is fucking awesome. He and Tweedy are singing “Islands in the Stream” together on the karaoke machine. 09:24:34 PM
Also: Davis makes a fucking amazing drink called “The Leviathan.” It’s vodka, whiskey, strawberry yogurt, and peppermint schnapps. 09:32:10 PM
Kanye and Nobel Laureate Dale Mortensen have been playing beer pong against the Underpants Twins for like two fucking hours. 10:10:28 PM
Mortensen is an economics professor at Northwestern University, who won the Nobel Prize in 2010 for “analysis of markets with search frictions,” whatever that means.
Motherfuck: Ari just lit Carl’s stepmom’s underwear drawer on fire. 10:12:12 PM
Helen Mirren’s fired up the motherfucking grill on the balcony. “Whip out your meat and I’ll grill that shit.” 10:37:34 PM
Penny just showed up with her homebrew Four Loko. Davis is downing the tropical fucking punch flavor. Watch the fuck out. 10:44:15 PM
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy New Year, you stupid motherfuckers. 2011 is my goddamn year. But I’ll let you borrow it from time to time. 12:03:20 AM
Holy fuck. Apparently 2011 is going to start with a hangover the size of the motherfucking Sears Tower. 09:25:19 AM
Thank fucking god: Carl’s got coffee going and Kanye’s making eggs for everyone. “My bacon scrambler is fucking incredible.” 09:42:04 AM
Jesus fucking Christ: Nobody can get Danny Davis to leave. He’s just fucking lying around on the couch watching cartoons. 06:07:05 PM
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Need. More. Motherfucking. Coffee. 08:31:53 AM
We are swimming in motherfucking chicken wings over here. This fucking Bears game is fucking on. 03:34:06 PM
Someone wake me up when they start playing fucking football. 03:58:10 PM
This boring fucking game can suck on my motherfucking nuts. 05:27:51 PM
Axelrod just about choked to death on a chicken wing after that motherfucking Packers touchdown. Fuck. 05:32:20 PM
Fuck the motherfucking Green Bay fucking Packers. 06:06:23 PM
The Bears lost to the Green Bay Packers 10–3, which allowed the Packers to move on to the post-season.
Monday, January 3, 2011
All-day meeting and someone ate all the motherfucking crullers? Fuck this shit. 07:53:16 AM
Main point of discussion: how little of a fuck do we give about Braun? Axelrod says a cock’s-length. I say a twat’s-hair. 08:22:35 AM
New slogan: “Because this list of opponents keeps getting shittier: Emanuel ’11.” 04:17:37 PM
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The best part of the next six weeks is going to be watching Carol Moseley Braun slowly fucking self-destruct. 09:41:31 AM
When asked that morning if she would release her tax returns, Braun responded that she wouldn’t, “Because I don’t want to.” The local media went berserk.
Just for fucking fun, I’m going to release my tax returns dating all the way back to motherfucking Arby’s. 09:42:22 AM
Emanuel worked at Arby’s when he was in high school.
Carl the Intern’s at the Circuit Court with three pounds of my shit in ziplock bags. He’s tossing ’em if the verdict comes in wrong. 10:06:12 AM
The Chicago Board of Elections decision on Emanuel’s residency was appealed up to the Cook County Circuit Court, which announced that a ruling would be issued that day.
Driving in Axelrod’s Civic. He had to pull over because “I’ll Be There” came on. We’ll be here for an hour while he cries. 12:18:05 PM
Let’s be honest: Axelrod’s not alone—I still well up when I hear “I’ll Be There” by the Jackson 5.
RESIDENT THREE TIMES, BITCHES. 01:24:51 PM
And the ruling was in: Circuit Court Associate Judge Mark Ballard ruled that Emanuel met the residency requirements and could stay on the ballot.
You motherfuckers want to appeal this shit, go right the fuck ahead. We’re on the motherfucking winning streak to beat. 01:42:34 PM
We’re taking this motherfucking winning streak to the motherfucking boats. Those fucking nickel slots won’t know what fucking hit ’em. 01:56:03 PM
Won $78.35 at the boats. Going to convert it all to quarters and cram each one up Burt Odelson’s motherfucking urethra. 04:28:39 PM
Burt Odelson is a prominent Chicago election lawyer and was the lead attorney in the residency battle.
I’m so excited to read Braun’s tax returns tomorrow that I feel like a motherfucking kid on fucking Christmas goddamn Eve. 07:45:47 PM
In a single-day reversal, Carol Moseley Braun announced that she would in fact release her tax returns in the morning.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Fucking goddamn motherfuck, I fucking need fucking coffee so motherfucking badly. 08:26:29 AM
Staging dramatic readings of Carol Moseley Braun’s tax returns. Carl’s playing the part of “What the fuck were you thinking?” 10:19:11 AM
The headline in the Chicago Tribune really said it all: “Carol Moseley Braun tax returns reveal shaky financial state.”
Axelrod is in tears, he’s laughing so fucking hard. “Do the part again where she made no money in 2009.” 10:44:03 AM
Moseley Braun’s only reported income in 2009—$15,954—was from public pensions.
Been trying to think of something nice to say about Bill Daley: his bald head is fucking magnificent. Too bad about the rest of him. 04:29:14 PM
Bill Daley, the brother of Mayor Richard M. Daley, was announced as President Obama’s new chief of staff, filling the slot Emanuel vacated.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Axelrod just made breakfast. “I call it the Bacon Palace.” My heart’s going to fucking stop. 07:43:11 AM
Great. Now Bill Daley keeps calling. He wants me to help pack his motherfucking U-Haul. Fuck. 01:31:03 PM
“Rahm, it’s Bill. Since I’ve got your old job, and you’re getting my brother’s old job, I think you can help move these book boxes.” Fuck. 02:52:15 PM
Fourteen motherfucking voice mails like that. I’m tossing this fucking phone in the lake. 02:53:28 PM
Friday, January 7, 2011
In Axelrod’s Civic on the way over to Bill Daley’s place to help him move. He’d better have motherfucking donuts. 07:55:33 AM
Daley moved some couch cushions, then started taking fucking calls. “I’ve gotta get this. Can you move that cast-iron stove?” 09:20:30 AM
Bill motherfucking Daley must have a thousand fucking book boxes. My fucking back is going to be so fucking fucked. 09:41:31 AM
Guess who just had to “duck out on Presidential business,” right as we were starting to move his fucking free weights? 10:06:53 AM
Daley’s fucking sea-glass collection has to have each fucking piece individually fucking wrapped, first in tissue, then in bubble wrap. 11:46:29 AM
Motherfuck. Bill just came in and had a shitfit because it was supposed to be two motherfucking layers of tissue. Rewrapping now. 12:16:42 PM
Daley’s got all his clothes packed in giant motherfucking steamer trunks, like he’s setting sail on the motherfucking Titanic. 01:31:52 PM
This motherfucking piano is not going to fit in the motherfucking truck. 02:00:13 PM
We’ve had to repack this motherfucking truck twice. And the whole fucking time, Bill has been on his fucking phone. 05:04:52 PM
He keeps giving me this “You know how it goes” shrug. And I keep giving him a “Fuck you, you fucking fuck” glare right back. 05:07:09 PM
Fuck all this fucking shit. It’s Friday motherfucking night. Let’s fucking go. 05:37:06 PM
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Holy fucking fuck. I’m sitting in this goddamn massage chair all fucking day. Fuck you if you think I’m moving an inch. 08:39:05 AM
Motherfuck these tea party fuckholes. For fucking real. 04:37:32 PM
This not particularly artful Tweet was @MayorEmanuel’s only reaction to the Gabrielle Giffords shooting. Going further didn’t feel appropriate.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Axelrod plays a game called “bagel king,” where you toss a bagel at his finger. If it lands on it, he eats the bagel. He’s eaten fucking eight. 09:53:44 AM
Jesus fucking Christ. I have been locked in a walk-in meat cooler most of the motherfucking day. My cock is frozen fucking solid. 05:06:06 PM
I’m not even going to dignify how it fucking happened, but fuck me if I’m ever helping Axelrod cook a roast again. 05:09:58 PM
Monday, January 10, 2011
Jesus fucking Christ, waiting for this fucking coffee to brew might just motherfucking kill me. 07:48:55 AM
Certainly Crain’s Chicago motherfucking Business has more to write about than fucking me. Don’t the Groupon guys need their diapers changed? 08:02:24 AM
This was a reaction to the first story written about @MayorEmanuel, “Rahm Emanuel, social media boost campaign humor in Chicago,” published in Crain’s Chicago Business. In it the real Rahm admitted to knowing about the account and said, “I think it’s hilarious.” It was, quite honestly, a story that let me exhale for the first time in months. It would also spawn dozens more stories about the account.
You Just Got Hamboned
Fucking Christ, Axelrod found a puppy underneath the L tracks today. He named him “Hambone” and has been talking in fucking baby talk since. 01:49:01 PM
This entire afternoon meeting has been taken up by Axelrod talking like he’s the fucking puppy. 03:28:07 PM
That said, Hambone is fucking sharp. Really good debate advice. Someone get him a fucking Scooby Snack. 03:32:10 PM
Turns out Hambone is a motherfucking shitting machine. Heading out to “inaugurate” Chico’s new offices. 05:33:43 PM
Hey, Chico, you just got motherfucking Hamboned. 06:13:56 PM
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Motherfucking mother of god, whoever the fuck thought snow was a good idea today is fucking dead to me. 07:33:04 AM
Chicago got five inches of snow on January 11.
Great. This fucking puppy is scared of the motherfucking snow. He’s pissed all over the floor. Hambone sleeps in the fucking Civic tonight. 07:46:21 AM
Fuck lunch, we’re going motherfucking sledding. Cricket Hill, bitches! 12:07:27 PM
Axelrod is a mustachioed bullet streaking down the side of that fucking hill. Zoo-fucking-oom. 12:27:16 PM
Carl the Intern’s trying to go down standing up, but he keeps fucking falling off backwards. He’s going to have a concussion. 12:30:11 PM
Me, I’ve fucking puked twice from going down spinnies on a motherfucking disc. Walking up for round fucking three. 12:31:00 PM
Axelrod’s sledding outfit is one of the leftover luge suits from the Chicago 2016 Olympics photo shoot. Helmet and all. 12:36:32 PM
One of Mayor Daley’s missteps at the end of his term was making an expensive (and failed) bid for the 2016 Olympics. It included billboards and ads featuring heroic shots of athletes. Because it was the Summer Olympics, there wouldn’t have been luge suits, but the image was too good to pass up.
When Axelrod gets to the bottom, he jumps off the sled, holds his hands straight over his head, and yells “STUCK THE FUCKING LANDING!” 12:41:32 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, I got half the fucking hill’s worth of snow down my snowpants on that last run. 12:48:08 PM
Last sledding run is a pile-on: Axelrod on the bottom, then Carl, then me, with motherfucking Hambone barking away on top. 01:03:21 PM
We fucked that sledding hill so hard it’s not going to walk straight for a week. 01:07:10 PM
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Jesus fucking Christ, who replaced the Illinois statehouse with politicians with actual fucking balls? 08:39:32 AM
Normally in Springfield everyone’s too busy shitting themselves to actually get anything fucking done. What fucking happened? 08:51:41 AM
The State of Illinois was, and still is, in a massive budget deficit of at least $13 billion (second only to California’s $25 billion). While many states were, and are, attempting to balance budgets only by cutting services, the Illinois legislature actually voted on January 12 to raise taxes to begin chipping away at the debt.
Axelrod is making four middle-finger ice sculptures to put in front of Braun’s house. One for every fucking mortgage she has. 10:32:20 AM
Another detail from the tax returns: Moseley Braun had four mortgages on her home in the Hyde Park neighborhood.
Rabbi Lopatin stopped by. He’s got a sock full of batteries that is happy to explain to anyone the meaning of “blood libel.” 10:45:33 AM
Rabbi Asher Lopatin is the head of Chicago’s Anshe Sholom B’nai Israel Congregation, Emanuel’s hometown synagogue. I highly doubt he walks around with socks full of batteries, though the statement by Sarah Palin in the wake of the Gabrielle Giffords shooting, that “journalists and pundits should not manufacture a blood libel that serves only to incite the very hatred and violence they purport to condemn,” might have tested his resolve.
Supposed to read position statements, but instead spent the last three hours listening to that motherfucking Kanye record. 03:11:03 PM
Plouffe faxed over a list of all the motherfucking “mayoral forums” coming up. I would rather shoot my left ball off than go to them all. 05:41:46 PM
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Motherfuck, this is a fucking hot cup of fucking coffee. I think I just burned my motherfucking uvula. 08:17:05 AM
Pork chop sandwiches for lunch. Bone-in, bitches. 12:06:24 PM
The pork chop sandwiches from Jim’s Original (so named because Jim Stefanovic is credited with creating the original Maxwell Street–style Polish sausage back in the 1930s) are truly to die for. A staple on the near–South Side for decades, the stand was shut down when the University of Illinois at Chicago, in 2001, took ownership of the land, which included both Jim’s and the site of the historic Maxwell Street Market. “This is a screw deal by UIC and Mayor Daley,” Steve Balkin, vice president of the Maxwell Street Historic Preservation Coalition, wrote at the time. “I hope everyone who ever wants to get an authentic Maxwell Polish and can’t—I hope they remember Mayor Daley as the man who caused this culinary and cultural tragedy to occur.” The city ended up agreeing to move Jim’s Original a few blocks east. Get the pork chop sandwich, which is always served with the bone in.
One day, I’m never going to step foot in another goddamn L stop ever a-fucking-gain. Today is not that fucking day. 05:10:39 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, let’s get this hand-shaking over with. 05:22:38 PM
Top on My List of Bullshit I Don’t Want to Fucking Do
Friday, January 14, 2011
Someone needs to carve a portrait of whoever invented coffee into the side of a motherfucking mountain. 07:42:49 AM
Debate at the motherfucking Tribune offices this morning. Top on my list of bullshit that I don’t want to fucking do. 10:58:06 AM
The Chicago Tribune hosted a morning mayoral debate in the newspaper’s editorial boardroom.
Good thing we’re sitting around a table, because I have to squeeze my balls occasionally just to stay awake. Boring fucking motherfuckers. 11:00:58 AM
When Del Valle talks, I swear to fucking god it sounds like one of the teachers in a fucking “Charlie Brown” cartoon. Mwah wah waaah, wah-uh. 11:03:13 AM
That’s Miguel Del Valle, the city clerk for the City of Chicago. In this race, he ran to the left of the other candidates, and received strong support among the city’s progressive community.
Hearing Braun talk about austerity budgets is like listening to a fat guy talk about fasting. Stick with what you fucking know. 11:08:53 AM
My next response might be to just bang my head on the table until it fucking bleeds. 11:11:05 AM
So Braun’s plan to get us out of this budget crisis is apparently to pull a motherfucking unicorn out of her ass. 11:17:15 AM
The best part about this fucking debate is that Carl the Intern is hanging outside the window on a washing platform, mooning the ed board. 11:33:41 AM
Jesus fucking Christ, could these questions be more predictable? How about we just tell you assholes what you’re going to ask next. 11:41:40 AM
By all means, let’s take time to talk about a motherfucking children’s fucking museum. That seems fucking useful. 11:43:35 AM
Right after a Tweet about the predictability of the questions, the questioning shifted to the Chicago Children’s Museum, which had been weighing a move out of the Navy Pier tourist trap and into a new location in Grant Park, just east of downtown Chicago. This seemingly left-field question was asked in part because, when Grant Park was founded in 1835, it was decreed that the park was “public ground forever to remain vacant of buildings”; as a result, a public debate broke out over whether the museum could move to that location.
The worst part about this debate is that Plouffe faxed over a list of words I couldn’t say, including “dickweed” and “twatwaffle.” Fuck. 11:46:16 AM
It took 45 fucking minutes to get to the parking meter deal. Fucking Axelrod wins the bet—I thought it would take three. 11:52:00 AM
How the fucking fuck did I miss 13 installments in the “I Spit on Your Grave” franchise? Well, now I know what Clinton and I will be doing. 12:06:55 PM
In discussing violence in the media, Braun referred to “I Spit on Your Grave Part 13,” which does not exist. I Spit on Your Grave is a rape-revenge horror movie originally released in 1978 with the title Day of the Woman. The title was changed when the film was rereleased in 1980, and it retained the new title when it was remade and released once again in 2010. The remake is, ostensibly, what Braun meant to refer to.
Wait just one fucking second. “I Spit on Your Grave” only came out in October. They made 13 more movies in three months? I call bullshit, Carol. 12:10:44 PM
Well that’s a fucking let-down. There goes my motherfucking Monday night. Clinton’s going to make us watch “Saw” again instead. 12:11:43 PM
Can I get a voucher to skip the next fucking debate? 12:22:19 PM
Now Carl the Intern is swinging by the window, flashing double birds. That kid’s fucking going places. 12:29:15 PM
Apparently, these other fucking candidates won’t be happy until I fuck a motherfucking Care Bear. 12:39:06 PM
An extended back-and-forth in the debate centered around Emanuel’s disposition: “The question is one of temperament,” Braun said. “This is the city of big shoulders, and we’re considered to be tough Grabowskis and all of that, but we’re not mean-spirited and nasty.”
Thank fucking Christ that’s over. Now we need to figure out a way to get Carl the Intern down. He’s fucking stuck up there. 12:56:59 PM
Five o’clock, bitches—punch the fuck out. It’s motherfucking Friday fucking night. 04:58:54 PM
What the fucking fuck kind of name is “Reince Priebus”? 05:23:57 PM
The name of the newly appointed head of the Republican National Committee.
MOTHERFUCKING RED FUCKING ALERT: “Reince Priebus” is a motherfucking anagram for “Beer’s Epic Ruin.” 05:30:33 PM
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Climbing the motherfucking French toast mountain this morning. Tally fucking ho. 09:29:30 AM
Motherfucking shit fuckers. I just slammed my motherfucking finger stub in the fucking door of Axelrod’s fucking Civic. 01:46:34 PM
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Up too motherfucking early this morning. Fuck this fucking bullshit. 08:51:57 AM
Heading down to tailgate at motherfucking Soldier Field. Axelrod’s wearing his homemade Staley costume, rigged with a drinking tube. 09:22:13 AM
Staley Da Bear is the official mascot of the Chicago Bears. The crew was heading down to Soldier Field to watch the Bears play the Seattle Seahawks in the divisional round of the playoffs.
We tried to talk him out of it, but Carl the Intern is dressed as a Lovabull. He’s going to be fucking cold. 09:26:58 AM
The Lovabulls are the cheerleaders for the Chicago Bulls.
My giant bottle of Jack costume is too tall to fit on the L. Fuck. If you see a huge bottle of whiskey walking down Milwaukee, that’s me. 09:30:15 AM
Axelrod’s drinking tube is capped with a funnel. Every block or so, he’s stopping and yelling, “PUT IT IN THE FUCKING FUNNEL!!” 09:37:30 AM
Axelrod’s leading the entire fucking South Lot in singing “Bear Down, Chicago Bears,” except he’s singing it as “Drink Up, Chicago Fans.” 10:12:19 AM
Axelrod’s doing fucking handsprings in his fucking Bear costume. 10:21:35 AM
I’m in my giant Jack bottle knocking people down Urlacher-style and yelling “YOU JUST GOT JACK’D.” Then we do a fucking shot. 10:43:57 AM
Carl the Intern just did a routine to C+C Music Factory’s “Gonna Make You Sweat” that brought this whole fucking parking lot to a standstill. 11:20:09 AM
You’re looking at the motherfucking king of the South Lot keg stands, bitches. 12:00:15 PM
After all this, nobody’s found a fucking ticket for the goddamn game except Carl. 12:03:25 PM
Motherfucking touch motherfucking down motherfuckers. 12:11:10 PM
Just five minutes into the game, the Bears scored.
Fuck yes you beautiful fucking team. 12:43:50 PM
And another touchdown at the end of the first quarter.
There’s a rule that Seattle can just give the fuck up, right? 01:00:34 PM
Followed by a third, scored by the quarterback, Jay Cutler.
Motherfucking Jay fucking Cutler, ladies and fucking gentlemen. 01:01:38 PM
Axelrod’s been doing a shot every time Seattle has had to punt. And Bears touchdowns. And time-outs. And penalties. He’s fucking gone. 01:26:16 PM
Axelrod was putting on his Staley costume for half time, but all he could manage was the head before he started fucking puking. 01:40:25 PM
I say we just have Cutler run it every fucking play. 02:02:23 PM
Hey Seattle, we’re giving out free concussions all motherfucking game. Just step right the fuck up. 02:06:45 PM
Mother-touching fuck-down! 02:15:30 PM
I fucking blacked out for a minute there. Who the fuck let Seattle score? 02:43:09 PM
We’re going to need a fucking wheelbarrow to get Axelrod home. Can someone bring one by the South Lot? 02:54:58 PM
Green fucking Bay is fucking fucked. Let’s just do this shit today. 03:25:45 PM
Chicago won the game, 35–24, advancing to the conference championship to meet the Green Bay Packers once again.
Still in the South Lot. Axelrod won’t fucking move. It’s OK though. My fucking Jack Daniel’s bottle costume is surprisingly warm. 04:33:12 PM
Axelrod just sat bolt upright, said “THE GOLDEN GLOBES!” and took off fucking running. Guess it’s time to head home. 05:15:37 PM
The Big Bear Strikes Back
Monday, January 17, 2011
Motherfucking shopping list for Clinton’s visit tomorrow: 6 lbs. of hamburger, 18 bottles of vodka, 100 yards of plastic sheeting. 09:40:16 AM
Spent the entire day getting ready for Clinton. Plastic sheeting is a goddamn bitch to attach to the ceiling. 05:01:14 PM
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I’m going to need a motherfucking Clinton-sized coffee to get me through this bullshit today. 07:26:00 AM
Bill Clinton came to Chicago to campaign for Emanuel. He held a public rally as well as a private fund-raiser that raised $250,000.
Stuck in this fucking slush-fest on the way to the airport to pick up Clinton. Axelrod’s spun out the Civic three times already. 10:22:43 AM
Clinton’s been shotgunning vodka the whole drive in from the airport. I think I can hear his liver fucking sobbing. 11:09:17 AM
It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with Clinton. When did he start referring to himself as “The Big Bear” fucking exclusively? 11:12:08 AM
Clinton’s up on stage, drinking straight from the bottle. Crowd is tossing money and panties. The Big Bear’s still fucking got it. 11:35:17 AM
Holy fucking fuck: Clinton just asked, “Who’s seen ‘The Puppetry of the Penis’?” ABORT! ABORT! ABORT! 11:54:29 AM
Finally got Clinton off the fucking stage. “But I was about to show them ‘The Flamingo’!” 12:16:46 PM
Got Clinton back to my place, where he announced, “The Big Bear’s gotta hibernate,” and immediately passed the fuck out. 03:14:26 PM
Clinton just woke up and announced, “The Big Bear’s ready to meat wrestle. Where’re the girls?” Fuck. I had hoped he’d stay asleep. 06:15:17 PM
God, I fucking hope we’ve got enough plastic sheeting. 06:17:07 PM
Here’s the other thing: we don’t actually have any fucking girls. Carl and Axelrod are going to do their best. 06:20:31 PM
Managed to distract Clinton with news about Joe fucking Lieberman’s retirement. Good riddance, you fucking froggy-voiced fuck. 07:30:22 PM
News broke that evening that Connecticut Senator Joe Lieberman would be retiring.
And he’s passed out again. Tends to go like this all fucking night with the Big Bear. 07:54:31 PM
Clinton’s up again. And he’s crying. Giant fucking rivers of tears. This night is never going to fucking end. 09:35:39 PM
Clinton’s smeared raw fucking hamburger all over himself and is sliding across the plastic-sheeted floor. “I’m the king of the world!” 10:34:01 PM
Axelrod managed to get Clinton into a fucking sleeper hold. Sweet dreams, Big Bear. Sweet Dreams. 10:56:39 PM
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Woke up and Clinton’s gone! His clothes and wallet are here. He’s gonna fucking freeze out there. Come back, Big Bear! 08:28:15 AM
Axelrod’s going to search, but Carl the Intern said his Civic will freeze before he reaches the first marker. “Then I’ll see you in hell!” 08:30:51 AM
You’d think that one extended reference to the Hoth scene in The Empire Strikes Back (the same as on December 13) would be enough in a six-month-long work of satire. You’d have thought wrong.
Axelrod found him, facedown in a snow bank muttering something about Ben Bernanke. Just “Ben … Ben … Ben …” over and over. The fuck? 09:16:56 AM
Ben Bernanke is the chairman of the Federal Reserve. Ben Kenobi is a strange old hermit who lives out beyond the Dune Sea and turns out to be the last of the Jedi Knights.
Axelrod cut open the back seat of his Civic—“I thought they smelled bad on the outside”—and stuffed Clinton inside to keep him warm. 09:21:46 AM
Now they’re back, and Carl the Intern’s filling this big-ass tube with hot water. Sticking Clinton in there to warm him the fuck up. 09:25:58 AM
Clinton looks strong enough to pull the ears off a motherfucking gundark. Axelrod says, “That’s two you owe me, Big Bear.” 10:04:28 AM
Now Axelrod and Carl the Intern are arguing and Hambone starts barking like crazy. Axelrod spins around and says, “Bark it up, fuzzball.” 10:13:57 AM
And now Carl’s planting a big kiss on Clinton, and he’s just lying there, hands behind his head with a big shit-eating grin. What the fuck? 10:15:07 AM
We gotta get Clinton back to the airport now. I don’t know how the fuck he’s going to explain that big scar on his cheek to Hillary. 10:23:31 AM
Escape to Wisconsin
Motherfucking cock-chokers. How the fucking fuck is it only Wednesday? Spent all goddamn day thinking it was Thursday. 04:50:11 PM
Plan for tomorrow is to rent a truck, head to Costco, load up, and drive north to TP the living fuck out of Wisconsin. Go Bears. 08:58:37 PM
With the NFC championship game vs. the Green Bay Packers coming up that weekend, the whole city was obsessed.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Where can I buy a motherfucking vat of coffee? I don’t want a fucking cup, I want an endless fucking vat. 07:34:35 AM
Hope you stocked up on toilet paper, because we just cleared Costco the fuck out. Wisconsin won’t know what fucking hit it. 08:09:00 AM
Before the TPing, we’re all getting tattoos. I’m getting “MOTHERFUCK GREEN BAY” across my shoulder blades. 08:45:14 AM
So I’m not saying we got stopped by the cops in Beloit, but I will say that I doubt we’re going back to fucking Wisconsin any time soon. 03:22:42 PM
Also, if you need any motherfucking toilet paper we’ve probably got some extra. 03:28:58 PM
I’ve got 10.6 million fucking reasons the other motherfuckers are motherfucked. 03:53:36 PM
The Emanuel campaign released its campaign finance details, revealing that Emanuel had raised $10.6 million since entering the race. He’d started with an additional $1.1 million in the bank from his congressional campaign, giving him $11.7 million. His closest competitor, Gery Chico, had raised $2.4 million in the same amount of time.
It’s nice, after a day sitting in a truck on the side of I-90, to know that I have a giant fucking pile of money to roll the fuck around on. 04:12:03 PM
This tattoo is getting blood all over my tux for the Hu dinner. I hope nobody slaps me on the motherfucking back. 05:05:33 PM
Chinese President Hu Jintao visited Chicago for two days, his only stop other than Washington, DC, during this visit to the States. “It is a big deal,” Mayor Daley told reporters in his unequaled style. “Big, big, big, big. Big deal.”
Kissing the Pole
Friday, January 21, 2011
Fuck this motherfucking brutal fucking cold right in its frozen fucking asshole. 07:40:29 AM
Chicago descended into single-digit temperatures today, with 20 mile-an-hour wind gusts adding insult to injury.
We sent Carl the Intern out to get coffee, and he came back with three cups of motherfucking brown ice. Fuck this shit. 08:31:02 AM
The only thing getting me through this frozen fucking day is the fact that it’s Friday. 09:54:31 AM
Axelrod, Carl the Intern, and I went out to kiss the flagpoles outside Soldier Field—you know, for fucking luck—and now we’re stuck. 03:55:05 PM
Carl the Intern lined up some stupid fucking comedian to do a stupid fucking fund-raiser for me tonight. Because you know what we need? Money. 05:38:49 PM
Saturday Night Live’s Andy Samberg—who impersonates Emanuel on the show—performed at a fund-raiser for him and shook hands at an L stop with him (while @MayorEmanuel was stuck to a pole).
Anyway, looks like I’m going to fucking miss it unless Mr. Fucking Funny shows up with some warm water to melt this frozen pole. 05:40:29 PM
Um. It’s fucking dark and fucking cold out here. Uh. Help? 06:41:21 PM
Motherfucking motherfuck. Finally pulled my fucking lips off that fucking frozen flagpole. There’s blood absolutely goddamn everywhere. 07:34:54 PM
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Oh, it did not just fucking snow again. I am so fucking over this motherfucking winter bullshit. 07:45:42 AM
Plouffe called. Our ad for tomorrow’s game is a “no go.” The fuck is wrong with an ad of Axelrod wiping his ass on a Packers helmet? 09:04:02 AM
Axelrod just got his tat finished: Calvin in a Bears uniform pissing on a block of cheese. “It’s also ’cause I’m fucking lactose intolerant.” 01:20:55 PM
Sunday, January 23, 2011
9 am Game Day. Let’s get our motherfucking drink on. 09:14:23 AM
The Bears-Packers rivalry has been going strong for 90 years. And seriously, people get crazy about it—the catchphrase used on newspaper boxes to hype the game was “Cold War,” and it didn’t feel all that inaccurate, either word. Also, in case you don’t know, it’s probably worth noting that Packers fans wear foam blocks of cheese on their heads, called “cheeseheads.” Really.
Motherfucking hot-wing fryer fire! Holy fucking shit! 11:34:11 AM
So it turns out vodka isn’t a very good fire extinguisher. Finally got it out with Axelrod’s Bears Snuggie. In-fucking-flammable. 12:23:22 PM
Penny Pritzker just showed up with treats: shot glasses with $100 bills in them. “Who’s getting a money shot?” 01:23:08 PM
Jeff Tweedy showed up with a giant plate of motherfucking brownies. “Game on, bitches.” 01:54:58 PM
Doorbell. Holy fucking fuck, it’s Ari. “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you, you stupid little shit?” 02:10:05 PM
I haven’t even finished one of Tweedy’s brownies yet, and the Packers are on the one? What the goddamn fuck? 02:11:11 PM
Fucking Christ fuck. What the fucking shit fucking fuck was that fucking bullshit? 02:12:46 PM
The Green Bay Packers scored the first touchdown of the game.
Ari brought Spielberg, who is wearing a motherfucking cheesehead. We’re holding Axelrod back right now. 02:15:42 PM
Steven Spielberg donated $75,000 to Emanuel’s mayoral campaign, but probably isn’t a Cheesehead.
Christ, I am nowhere near fucking drunk enough for this motherfucking game. 02:21:43 PM
Kanye just called, in tears. “I can’t watch this shit on my own. Can I drop by?” Fuck yes, Yeezy. Fuck yes. 02:33:52 PM
A half-hour in, Green Bay was up by seven, Cutler had been sacked, and Green Bay quarterback Aaron Rodgers was tossing massive passes all over the place. It was painful.
Kanye showed up with the same fucking Motorola headsets the coaches have. We’re all wearing them. We look fucking awesome. 02:45:19 PM
Fucking goddamn motherfuck. I’m going to go crawl under a motherfucking blanket now. 02:51:17 PM
Another Green Bay TD.
Fucking goddamn motherfucking fuck. Fucking shit fucking fuck. Fucking fucktards need to fucking play this fucking game. 03:06:40 PM
Rogers ran the ball 25 yards on his own.
Kanye’s a fucking mess right now. This game needs to turn around. 03:09:05 PM
Motherfucking interception, you bitches. Let’s motherfucking do this shit. 03:23:29 PM
Motherfucking fucking motherfuck. 03:24:09 PM
Clearly, they didn’t do this shit.
At this point, the only thing turning this motherfucking game around are some goddamn pizza rolls. Tweedy and Pritzker are making the run. 03:28:13 PM
My “MOTHERFUCK GREEN BAY” tattoo is going to look really fucking stupid if this game doesn’t turn around. 03:35:30 PM
We finally got Spielberg to take off his cheesehead, but he’s got a Packers do-rag on underneath it. What the fuck. 03:41:06 PM
Second fucking hot wings fire of the day. This shit just isn’t getting any better, is it? 03:46:45 PM
Ari thought he could put the wings fire out by peeing on it. Turns out, that’s not a great fucking idea. Carl the Intern’s on a gauze run. 03:48:27 PM
Kanye’s choking back fucking tears: “Cutler’s knee injury is a nice match for my heart injury.” 03:51:22 PM
It was announced that Cutler had hurt his knee and was out of the game.
MOTHERFUCKING BRIAN FUCKING URLACHER IS THE GREATEST FUCKING MAN IN MOTHERFUCKING HISTORY. 03:54:22 PM
Urlacher caught a Green Bay pass, sending back-up QB Todd Collins in.
I fucking hate fucking everything right fucking now. 03:56:55 PM
Collins threw an interception, it was overturned, but the Bears ended up punting.
Hey, Cutler: My knee hurt before I had to dance “Swan Lake” once. And you know what? I fucking danced the motherfuck out of it. Fuck you. 03:58:57 PM
Tweedy and Pritzker got back with the pizza rolls. Thank fucking god. Finally some good news. 04:05:55 PM
Carl the Intern is in seventh fucking heaven with Collins in. “It’s like they’re sending interns onto the field.” He’s fucking right. 04:13:00 PM
Jesus fucking Christ. They’re just pulling people out of the fucking stands to be quarterback at this point, aren’t they? 04:23:03 PM
Collins came out, and a third-string quarterback named Caleb Hanie was brought in.
CALEB FUCKING HANIE! YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL FUCKING MAN! 04:28:46 PM
And the Bears finally scored, bringing the game to 14–7 Green Bay.
I HAVE NEVER FUCKING HEARD OF YOU EVER, BUT RIGHT NOW I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MY GODDAMN WIFE. 04:29:27 PM
Spielberg’s smart fucking mouth isn’t fucking mouthing so much now. Let’s motherfucking do this. 04:38:49 PM
I will give Green Bay this: they have the most incredible display of man-tits I have ever fucking seen in my life. 04:42:30 PM
Fucking fuck motherfucking fuck. The fucking tubby guy just scored? Fucking fuck this fucking shit. 04:52:31 PM
Hanie threw an interception and the 338-pound B. J. Raji scored for Green Bay. 21–7 Green Bay.
Just sent Carl the Intern out for the biggest fuck-it bucket of chicken you have ever fucking seen. 04:54:53 PM
MOTHERFUCKING TOUCH FUCKING DOWN!!! HOLY FUCKING FUCK. WE CAN DO THIS FUCKING SHIT. BEAR THE FUCK DOWN. 04:57:05 PM
Another Bears TD brought it to 21–14 Green Bay.
I need to get one of those giant fucking sidelines jackets. They look so fucking bad-ass. 04:59:09 PM
Caleb Hanie. Be the ball. There is no motherfucking spoon. 05:04:49 PM
When Axelrod gets stressed out, he has to take a shit. He’s been in the bathroom for most of this fucking quarter. 05:09:27 PM
Oh goddamn motherfuck. That’s the fucking motherfucking game. I am going to get so fucking drunk I’ll be hungover until Wednesday. 05:14:29 PM
The Bears lost to the Green Bay Packers, 21–14.
Fucking empty motherfucking emptiness. 05:16:20 PM
Kanye’s got his vocoder set to a minor fucking key. We’re all lost in this motherfucking world. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 05:17:57 PM
I’m not sure Axelrod’s ever going to fucking get over this. 05:20:04 PM
Tweedy’s post-game snack: the Hanie. A jalapeño popper stuffed inside a pizza roll. “Tastes like sadness.” 05:47:56 PM
End of Days
Monday, January 24, 2011
Oh, coffee, you glorious motherfucking bean. 07:48:04 AM
Motherfucking shit fucking fuck shitters. What the fucking fuck motherfucking happened?! 12:18:35 PM
It was announced that the Illinois Appellate Court, in a 2–1 decision, had determined that Emanuel was not eligible to run for mayor, due to his residency. With that announcement, the Chicago Board of Election, which was to begin printing ballots that night, announced that it would print them without Emanuel’s name. He was literally off the ballot.
OK, Carl the Intern makes a good point: appellate courts are for pussies. We’re going to motherfucking Supreme this bullshit. 12:21:33 PM
My brain feels like it’s on motherfucking fire. 12:23:22 PM
Throwing that chair through the window wasn’t the best fucking decision in the world just now. Now we’re fucked AND it’s cold. 12:27:08 PM
I FUCKING HATE THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD. WHO MOTHERFUCKING WANTS SOME? 12:31:10 PM
Jesus fucking Christ. I’m just lighting any fucking thing on fire right now. Just to feel fucking something. 12:32:20 PM
Holy fuck, we’re so not getting the security deposit back on this motherfucking apartment. 12:36:23 PM
Axelrod’s got his Bears helmet on and is just fucking punching gaping fucking holes in the walls with his motherfucking head. 12:38:30 PM
Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck. 12:42:55 PM
Carl the Intern just tossed a lit mattress through the window. “We don’t need no water, let the motherfucker burn.” 12:46:00 PM
HOLY FUCK: Axelrod just flipped the Civic. This shit just got motherfucking realer than real. 12:50:25 PM
Every fucking thing in this motherfucking apartment is going through the front fucking window right fucking now. 12:53:44 PM
shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. 12:59:17 PM
Double birds to the motherfucking world. TO THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD. 01:04:35 PM
They’ll get to you too. They’ll destroy you. They’re untouchable, man … I’m so fucking exhausted I can’t see straight. 01:09:54 PM
This is a direct quote from Joe Pesci in the film JFK.
motherfucking empty fucking emptiness. again. 01:14:32 PM
fucking why. 01:15:44 PM
motherfucking why. 01:16:05 PM
fuck. 01:16:29 PM
Fuck. I’ve been walking these streets at night. Just trying to get it right. 08:49:01 PM
Alone, cold, and singing the Guns N’ Roses ballad “Patience.”
It’s hard to see with so many around. You know I don’t like being stuck in a motherfucking crowd. 08:49:43 PM
And the fucking streets don’t change but maybe the name. 08:50:42 PM
I ain’t got time for this fucking game. 08:51:43 PM
It’s nice, this fucking city, in the dark. The snow and the ice. The bridges. The water. It’s quiet. I just need some fucking quiet. 08:56:03 PM
We trashed the apartment so fucking bad, there’s nothing to go back to. 09:10:31 PM
Last I saw Carl the Intern and Axelrod, they were going to drive the Civic into City Hall. They’re probably fucking locked up now. 09:11:19 PM
Now it’s just me and Axelrod’s little puppy Hambone. Against the motherfucking world. 09:15:48 PM
Found a spot under a bridge on Cortland. It’s pretty here, and there’s a hot air vent. This’ll do. What a motherfucking fucked day. 09:26:35 PM
Quack Fucking Quack
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Woke up to Hambone licking my face. Now we’re tossing chunks of ice into the river. Big fucking splash. Scared the ducks. 08:05:54 AM
The river water is brown like coffee, but it sure doesn’t taste like coffee. I think I miss coffee the motherfucking most. 09:15:33 AM
There’s a duck along the river here who has a bill with a little dark spot on it, like a mustache. Named him Quaxelrod. Quack fucking quack. 10:10:41 AM
Let’s be transparent here: the original Tweet named the duck “Axelrod” but immediately after posting, I realized the joke should have been “Quaxelrod,” and the name stuck with the very next Tweet. I’m changing this one for the book, dammit.
Me, Hambone and Quaxelrod found a pretty sturdy sheet of ice and we’re going to fucking float down the river for a while. 10:22:55 AM
Quaxelrod just started quacking like crazy. It’s foggy, but I can see someone else fucking floating toward us. 12:01:00 PM
It’s Daley! Floating the other way. “You’re a hard man to find, you know. Here’s some bread for your duck. Shut him the fuck up.” 12:03:29 PM
“First off, you’re back on. I mean, for now. Probably forever. The Supremes are assfucks, but they’re my assfucks.” Daley’s hands are HUGE. 12:08:20 PM
Emanuel was back on the ballot, at least temporarily. The Illinois Supreme Court agreed to hear the case and, in the meantime, issued a stay on printing the ballots without Emanuel’s name on them.
“But, really man, pull yourself the fuck together. You’re running for mayor. Of Chicago. People are going to fuck with you all the time.” 12:09:20 PM
“You think when I wanted to close Meigs Field, and they told me no, that I went adrift? No. I fucking closed Meigs fucking Field.” 12:10:40 PM
Chicago used to have a small business airport on the lake just east of downtown called Meigs Field. Daley had wanted to close the airport and turn it into a park since 1994. The Chicago Park District didn’t renew the lease in 1996, and the city and the state began to fight over the fate of the airport in earnest at that point. All seemed to be solved in 2001, when the city and the state announced a deal to keep the airport open for 25 more years. A done deal? You’d think so, but the Senate didn’t pass some federal legislation that was part of the deal, so it fell apart. And that’s when Daley, in 2003, carved giant X’s in the runways, stranding 16 planes, and Meigs Field was no more.
“You think when they started pissing on the parking meter sale that I fucking tucked tail? No, I sold off everyfuckingthing else too.” 12:11:21 PM
The end of Daley’s tenure was marked with attempts to privatize far more than the parking meters, including Midway Airport and major street festivals like the Taste of Chicago.
“Here’s something my dad told me once: The role of the mayor is to be the guy that everyone takes a shit on. And then to shit on them back.” 12:13:13 PM
“Except he didn’t say ‘everyone.’ He said, ‘Blacks, Jews, Poles, and Hippies,’ but those were different times. Fucking substance is the same.” 12:14:04 PM
Richard M. Daley’s father, Richard J. Daley, was mayor of Chicago from 1955 to 1976. That’s right, do the math: in the 56 years from 1955 to 2011, a Daley was mayor for 43 of them.
“So you’re going to turn this ice floe around, pack up your pets, and run for the goddamn mayor of Chicago and you’re going to win.” 12:16:54 PM
“And once you’ve won, you’re going to fuck with every last one of these motherfuckers until they wish they’d never even heard your name.” 12:18:14 PM
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m floating my way down to Chinatown right now for some dim sum.” And Daley’s gone again, into the fog. 12:19:00 PM
Fuck this noise. Quaxelrod? Hambone? We’ve got a motherfucking election to motherfucking win. Let’s do this shit. 12:24:51 PM
Fifty-two motherfucking percent, you stupid fucking motherfuckers. Quaxelrod is so excited, he’s molting. 04:58:33 PM
The Chicago Retail Merchants Association released an overnight poll showing Emanuel with 52%—conducted the day he was kicked off the ballot. It was the first poll to get him over 50%, which, if it followed through to actual votes, would mean that a runoff between the top two vote-getters would not be necessary. Quick background on the Chicago mayoral election: because there’s essentially a nonexistent Republican Party in the city, there is no party-based primary system. Instead, all candidates run in a February election and, if nobody receives above 50% of the vote (50% + 1 to be precise), a runoff occurs between the top two candidates a month and a half later. At this point, among all of the candidates, the practical strategy was not to win, but to keep Emanuel below 50% and force a runoff.
State of Disunion
Found a hotel room for the night. Dropping some major campaign cash. Holiday Inn Express, bitches. Quaxelrod can use the pool. 05:39:23 PM
Don’t know if Obama’s going to use the draft of the speech I wrote before I left. If he opens with double fucking birds, it’s mine. 06:12:18 PM
President Obama was giving his third State of the Union address, his first without Emanuel as chief of staff.
Jesus fucking Christ. I turn on the hotel TV and the first thing I have to see is Bill Daley’s bald fucking head? Fuck. 08:03:48 PM
That’s right, Obama, walk down that aisle, and bust people’s chops. “You were looking a little scruffy.” That fucking scruffy fuck. 08:08:44 PM
Obama said that to a newly shorn Senator Tom Coburn, a Republican from Oklahoma, as he made his way to the Speaker’s podium.
I had a whole State of the Union drinking game lined up, then I decided just to drink fucking all of it to begin with. Whoo fucking hoo. 08:09:28 PM
Jesus Christ. Boehner’s not even orange anymore. He’s burnt fucking ochre. 08:10:56 PM
Newly appointed Speaker of the House, Republican John Boehner, sported a shockingly deep tan at the address.
It’s two years of experience with this when I tell you: the key is to keep your motherfucking eyes locked on fucking Biden. 08:12:54 PM
OK, see, I wrote this part. It ends with “Fuck Bush in his motherfucking shriveled fucking asshole. First CEO president my ass.” 08:19:59 PM
OK, he took it in a different direction. Quaxelrod thinks the “win the future” thing is a nice flourish. I think it’s for the birds. 08:22:30 PM
I’m not saying that I flipped away for a bit, but I will tell you there is a motherfucking “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” marathon on. 08:32:12 PM
This is an actual TV show, and there actually was a marathon of it on that night.
Boehner’s really going for the “asshole of the year” award, huh? Yeah, douchebag, don’t clap for student fucking aid. 08:35:27 PM
Wait a second—SHE didn’t know she was pregnant? How the fucking fuck did that happen? Oh shit, sorry. Flipping back. 08:38:30 PM
See, I wrote that part too. Except it was originally “Let’s fix what fucking needs fixing, and then let’s move the fuck forward.” 08:47:35 PM
The actual quote, about the battles around the health-care law, was “Instead of refighting the battles of the last two years, let’s fix what needs fixing and let’s move forward.”
Do you think Boehner painted open eyes on his eyelids, and he’s just back there fucking snoozing? Fucking CLAP, man. 08:49:19 PM
Yeah, maybe I’m fucking standing on my fucking hotel bed fucking cheering about getting rid of “frivolous lawsuits.” Maybe now? In Illinois? 08:52:07 PM
Obama was talking about medical malpractice reform, not election law in Illinois.
See, I’d told him to not mention Iraq or Afghanistan. “Nobody fucking remembers them. Don’t fucking remind them.” 08:58:21 PM
Wait, wait wait—SHE didn’t know she was pregnant either? The fuck, people? 09:00:43 PM
OK, so I wrote this part too. Unless SOMEONE went and changed it again, it should end with him double-chopping his cock and saying “SUCK IT.” 09:09:46 PM
God, thinking about those fucking Chilean miners still makes me motherfucking weep. Beautiful fucking people, stuck in a tiny fucking hole. 09:12:09 PM
Obama mentioned the saga of the Chilean miners by talking about the Pennsylvania company that built the drill that helped saved them.
OK, maybe they moved the crotch chop to this part. Because it would be fucking perfect here. 09:12:55 PM
I thought the speech was pretty great. I mean, it’s a tough situat … HOW THE FUCK DOES SHE NOT KNOW SHE’S FUCKING PREGNANT?! 09:15:25 PM
If anyone thinks I’m sitting through Bachmann, you’re out of your goddamn motherfucking minds. 09:22:33 PM
Michelle Bachmann, Republican congresswoman from Minnesota, gave the “Tea Party” response to Obama’s speech.
This “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” marathon is on until 2 am. I feel like I’ve won the motherfucking election already. 09:49:30 PM
A Duck, a Puppy, and a Pillow
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Oh, hell no, this hotel has a motherfucking breakfast buffet? And it’s fucking free? Hell yes I’ll have a pancake, thanks. 07:28:10 AM
Sweet fucking Jesus, all the fucking coffee I can drink? Bring it fucking on. 07:30:16 AM
I’ve been shaking hands outside of PetSmart all morning. Last day I let Hambone and Quaxelrod set my fucking schedule. 11:56:16 AM
Now I’m doing a tour of the city’s fucking duck ponds and dog parks. Axelrod’s fucking mustache did a better scheduling job than this. 03:13:57 PM
Back at the hotel for debate prep. Quaxelrod is filling in for Braun, Hambone is covering Chico, and a pillow from the bed is Del Valle. 05:09:13 PM
The final candidates in the mayoral race were Rahm Emanuel, Gery Chico, Carol Moseley Braun, Miguel Del Valle, and two lesser-known candidates who didn’t often get invited to the high-profile debates Emanuel would attend: Patricia Van Pelt Watkins and William “Dock” Walls.
Topics covered: lack of old guys tossing bread, repressive off-leash laws, and the handsy maid who works weekends. Fuck. 05:16:35 PM
While Pillow Del Valle and I are in agreement that double starch is too much fucking starch, I’m beginning to think that I need my team back. 05:31:49 PM
I keep getting Peter fucking Gabriel’s motherfucking “In Your Eyes” stuck in my fucking head and it’s driving me goddamn insane. 07:00:19 PM
I may have underestimated Pillow Del Valle. He’s definitely got some good points about the fucking hotel tax. 07:05:28 PM
Debate prep wrapped. I sincerely fucking hope that Chico doesn’t lick my face tomorrow as much as Hambone did tonight. 07:23:03 PM
Seriously, this fucking song won’t get the fuck out of my fucking head. 10:21:02 PM
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sweet fucking coffee, you sometimes feel like my only motherfucking friend. 07:32:08 AM
Quaxelrod thinks we should do more debate prep, but I think it’s because he gets a fucking bread crumb when he gets a right answer. 07:59:06 AM
Quaxelrod needs a swim, Hambone needs a walk, Pillow Del Valle needs a fluff. Didn’t I used to have people who took care of this bullshit? 08:23:30 AM
There’s that goddamn motherfucking song again. I’m going to stab myself in the fucking ear soon. 10:58:49 AM
Picking out clothes for the debate tonight. I’ve got fucking duck shit on most of my suits. 12:12:17 PM
I may just go over in this T-shirt and sweats. The shirt has a sweet fucking tiger on it. Hambone thinks it’s bad-ass. 12:17:56 PM
This motherfucking snow is going to make me look ridiculous if I go out in my tiger T-shirt. 03:32:14 PM
What the fucking fuck do you mean, no waterfowl in the Chicago City Club? Chico probably got his motherfucking guinea hen in! 04:24:06 PM
And I totally see Braun strutting around with her fucking rooster. But no goddamn ducks? For fucking shame, man. For. Fucking. Shame. 04:35:41 PM
Why did it just get so fucking quiet in here? 05:00:15 PM
The Illinois Supreme Court had just overturned the Appellate Court ruling, stating:
“So there will be no mistake, let us be entirely clear. This court’s decision is based on the following and only on the following: (1) what it means to be a resident for election purposes was clearly established long ago, and Illinois law has been consistent on the matter since at least the 19th century; (2) the novel standard adopted by the Appellate Court majority is without any foundation in Illinois law; (3) the board’s factual findings were not against the manifest weight of the evidence; and (4) the board’s decision was not clearly erroneous.”
MOTHERFUCKING STREET LEGAL, BITCHES! 05:08:20 PM
Hambone is fucking humping every fucking leg in sight. 05:12:05 PM
Huh. Feel a little stupid about the whole fucking apartment trashing thing now. 05:14:49 PM
FUCK THE DEBATE, LET’S HOLD THE MOTHERFUCKING ELECTION RIGHT FUCKING NOW. 05:17:29 PM
Shotgunning motherfucking cans of motherfucking beer two at a goddamn time! 05:24:02 PM
Just ran up to the other sorry fucking candidates and yelled, “MOTHERFUCKING WINNING THE MOTHERFUCKING FUTURE!” 05:36:23 PM
You stupid fucking fucks have to debate me now. BRING IT THE FUCK ON! 05:39:19 PM
It really was remarkable timing, the announcement coming just two hours before the debate.
God, I fucking wish Axelrod and Carl the Intern were here right now. Who’s going to hold my fucking feet for the keg stands? 05:40:59 PM
Axelrod would probably be wearing his beer hat right now, grinning like the motherfucking Cheshire fucking Cat. Fucking where are you? 05:45:54 PM
And Carl. Jesus, seemed like that kid’s heart just shattered in two on Monday. He’d probably be up on Axelrod’s fucking shoulders right now. 05:51:13 PM
Ah, fuck it. TOSS ME ANOTHER MOTHERFUCKING BEER, WE’RE WINNING THIS MOTHERFUCKING ELECTION! 05:55:30 PM
Holy fucking fuck, that fucking Peter fucking Gabriel song is back in my fucking head. Just what I fucking need. 06:29:50 PM
Reached in my pocket and pulled out Axelrod’s Disneyland pen. I gave him my fucking heart. He gave me a MousekePen. 06:46:11 PM
“I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen”: Lloyd Dobler’s saddest line in Say Anything.
Alright, bitches, let’s debate this shit. 06:58:29 PM
I’m stabbing Axelrod’s MousekePen into my thigh every time the motherfucking camera cuts away—17 more fucking minutes. 07:43:14 PM
Also, I’m pretty fucking sure Braun is dozing off right now. 07:44:15 PM
Chico thinks he smells fucking amazing, but the rest of us were joking about “eau de Chico” backstage. Right next to him, it’s overpowering. 07:46:35 PM
Hambone fucking drilled me on these goddamn facts and figures. I think I fucking nailed them 99% of the time. 07:50:08 PM
I’m about to meet the challenge of changing out of this fucking suit. Almost fucking done. 07:56:54 PM
Goddamn it, there’s that fucking song again. Do you fucking hear it? I fucking swear Chico looked up when it started up. 07:57:54 PM
Hambone thinks it went well, but I hate these fucking things. I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything in a debate. 08:01:04 PM
I don’t want to fucking sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed. 08:02:22 PM
You know, in a motherfucking debate. 08:02:59 PM
This was all a riff on another line from Say Anything: “I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don’t want to do that.” Fits better here than broken up over Tweets.
Anyway, that shit’s over. One more of these motherfucking things. Then I never have to hang out with those three fucking people again. 08:04:47 PM
But seriously, that fucking Peter fucking Gabriel song is getting louder. Hambone says I’m crazy, but it’s really goddamn loud now. 08:06:46 PM
HOLY FUCKING SHIT! There’re Axelrod and Carl the Intern, standing on the roof of the goddamn Civic, boom boxes over their heads. 08:15:24 PM
And a week of references to Say Anything culminates in the iconic image from the film: Cusack standing in the rain, boom box over his head, Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” blasting out.
They’re blaring that fucking Peter Gabriel song! And they’re fucking smiling fucking huge smiles! And it’s snowing. And it’s beautiful. 08:17:16 PM
And Quaxelrod is fucking flying circles around their heads, and fucking Hambone leapt up onto the roof of the car. And I’m fucking crying. 08:18:26 PM
I’m crying like a baby, because this has been a motherfucking week from fucking hell, and here we all are, on Michigan Avenue, in the snow. 08:20:41 PM
We’re all fucking crying and laughing and barking and quacking and the city has never looked more beautiful, and in four weeks I’ll be mayor. 08:25:30 PM
It turns out Carl the Intern and Axelrod didn’t crash Axelrod’s Civic into City Hall. They went down to motherfucking Springfield instead. 08:29:56 PM
Carl just looked at me, and said, “What did you expect? I told you we’d Supreme this shit, so we motherfucking Supremed this shit.” 08:31:00 PM
Now we’re all crammed into Axelrod’s fucking Civic—the ceiling’s still dented in—driving down Lake Shore Drive, just fucking freestyling. 08:38:32 PM
“Let’s break out of this fake ass Party / and turn this in to a Classic Night / If we die in each other’s arms …” 08:39:30 PM
Friday, January 28, 2011
This Holiday Inn Express breakfast buffet is about to get fucked like it’s never been fucked before. 07:33:03 AM
Carl the Intern and Axelrod are in a pancake-eating contest. Motherfucking artists at work. 08:01:04 AM
Cannonballs in the motherfucking pool. Quaxelrod is the judge. I got a 7.3. 09:16:53 AM
It’s Axelrod and this seven-year-old girl named Alyssa in the finals, both tied at 9.8. The whole cleaning crew is here, fucking cheering. 09:31:06 AM
Holy fucking Jesus fuck, little Alyssa just pulled a triple-flip cannonball to win this shit. Axelrod’s pouting in his Speedo. 09:51:20 AM
Out apartment hunting. Again. It’s fucking hard to find a place that’ll take both a dog and a duck. 12:23:14 PM
Couldn’t find an apartment. Just moving into the crawlspace of my old house. Nobody tell the fucking asshole upstairs. 04:43:37 PM
Holy fucking fuck, it’s finally motherfucking Friday fucking night. Longest fucking week ever. 05:03:56 PM
No furniture down here yet, so we’re just sitting on boxes passing a bottle. Axelrod found a box of Legos, so he’s in fucking heaven. 05:35:57 PM
Best part of being down here is that I get to wear my grandfather’s pleather jacket. I look like motherfucking Fonzie. Aaaaay. 05:41:01 PM
Just opened a box: motherfucking Twister! This night just got infucking-sane! 06:54:28 PM
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Motherfucking Saturday meetings need to be constitutionally illegal. 09:02:43 AM
I mean fucking seriously, you spend five fucking days a week being fucked in the ass by meetings. We really need to make it six? 09:06:47 AM
Text from Plouffe: “Just lube up your asshole then, because you’re recording robocalls today.” Fuck. 09:09:35 AM
On take fucking forty-six of these robocalls. I’m this fucking close to biting the fucking head off this fucking microphone. 10:13:03 AM
Motherfucking take fucking one hundred and twenty fucking six. 10:30:21 AM
Fucking nailed it on take four fifty three. Ring ring, motherfuckers, I’m calling you up. 12:22:43 PM
Just found a box of sheets in the crawlspace. We’re going to cut out eyeholes and haunt the fuck out of Halpin upstairs. 06:27:19 PM
BOO! You stupid motherfucker. 07:01:41 PM
Hambone looks fucking spooky as shit in his ghost sheet. 07:16:34 PM
Carl the Intern is wearing my wife’s wedding dress under his sheet. “I’m the fucking ‘Ghost Bride.’” 07:36:09 PM
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Axelrod has built a scale model of all of fucking Egypt out of Legos. It looks fucking amazing. 10:06:22 AM
The uprising in Egypt that began on January 25 and would end on February 11, with Mubarak stepping down, had become a major demonstration of Twitter’s power to disseminate information in real-time from far-flung regions of the world.
A whole crowd of Barbies just set the Ministry of Information on fucking Lego fire. 10:33:08 AM
A Barrel O Monkeys is trying to loot the Lego museum, but they’re being stopped by a floppy sheriff doll and a spaceman toy. 10:41:24 AM
There’s a toy standoff in front of the Lincoln Logs Department of the Interior. The My Pretty Ponies refuse to move the fuck along. 11:05:21 AM
Oh fuck. Quaxelrod just ate Lego Mubarak. 11:29:47 AM
Cheer up, Tweedy
Spent all goddamn day at the vet getting that goddamn Lego out of Quaxelrod. Now running late to Tweedy’s fucking fund-raiser. 05:47:11 PM
Jeff Tweedy headlined a fund-raiser for Emanuel at the Park West Theater in Chicago.
Tweedy’s being pissy because he doesn’t want to play any Black Eyed Peas songs. What the fuck? People love that shit. 07:18:52 PM
Not saying they’re a good band—they’re fucking terrible—but if you want people with money to give that shit away, play the Black Eyed Peas. 07:21:54 PM
But no, Tweedy’s pulling this fucking “I’m in Wilco, so I’m going to play Wilco songs” bullshit, like he knows anything about fund-raising. 07:23:07 PM
I told him that he can stuff his fucking guitar up his ass and go play for Chico—he’ll make his troubadour ass play Bieber. 07:25:05 PM
So it goes without fucking saying that he’s going out there and playing “I Gotta Feeling” right fucking now. 07:26:44 PM
Also, would it fucking kill this motherfucker to smile every now and then? Cheer up, Tweedy! 07:42:26 PM
Monday, January 31, 2011
Jesus fucking Christ, I just woke up in the back of the Wilco van. My bongo hand feels like it’s fucking broken. 08:40:11 AM
Got back to the crawlspace and Axelrod’s stockpiling canned goods. He just keeps muttering “storm coming.” Fuck this shit. 09:41:19 AM
The National Weather Service issued an alert that 20-plus inches of snow was expected to hit Chicago on Tuesday. News reports at the time said that this could be the third largest snow to hit the Chicago area. On top of the snow were reports warning of extremely high winds—gusts up to 50 mph, creating 15- to-20-foot waves crashing onto Lake Shore Drive. To put it another way, as the Chicago Tribune’s Weather Center blog did: “Winds and snow likely to combine to make a monster.”
Axelrod handed me a shopping list and said, “We don’t have much time.” The fuck do we need oxygen tanks for? 10:02:08 AM
Also on Axelrod’s Storm Survival list: 100 copies of today’s Chicago fucking Tribune and 100 newspaper-sized picture frames. 10:13:02 AM
I asked Axelrod about the fucking newspapers. “It’s for preservation for future generations, in case we don’t survive the storm …” 10:21:38 AM
“… the fact that I’m on the cover is just pure fucking coincidence.” But he’s fucking smiling. 10:22:30 AM
The real David Axelrod’s face was the entire cover of the newsstand edition of the Chicago Tribune as he announced he was moving back to Chicago from Washington to head up President Obama’s 2012 reelection bid.
Axelrod has Carl the Intern smoking meats down here. This whole crawlspace smells fucking incredible. 10:50:54 AM
Axelrod’s list calls for 20 shovels, but I’ve hit 6 stores and only have 18. Fuck. 02:01:39 PM
Axelrod’s response? “You want to be the asshole out there shoveling with his hands when we break the 18th shovel, just stop looking.” 02:02:20 PM
The motherfucking health-care law is ruled un-fucking-constitutional? Fuck this motherfucking bullshit. 02:14:44 PM
A federal judge in Florida struck down the entire health-care law, ruling that the mandate that everyone have insurance is unconstitutional. The issue, of course, is continuing to work its way through the courts.
Fuck Florida, fuck district courts, and fuck those tea-shitting fuck-party assholes. I worked too fucking hard on that bill. 02:29:34 PM
Is it a pre-existing condition when every fucking health-care opponent is a fucking cancer in my ass? 02:36:03 PM
Carl the Intern just asked if I need him to go Supreme this health-care bullshit too. The kid learns fucking fast. 02:45:00 PM
Snow preparations finally done. Axelrod just passed out our motherfucking sleeping shifts. “Everyone gets two hours on watch. Everyone.” 05:19:15 PM
The snowsuits Axelrod made for Hambone and Quaxelrod are adorable. Tiny fucking snowshoes. Tiny fucking hats. 05:20:53 PM
Finished my first two-hour snow-watch shift. So far, it’s just really fucking cold. Hambone’s up next. 09:52:33 PM
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Sweet fucking coffee. Axelrod had us buy 20 pounds of beans to weather the storm. I fucking doubled that. 07:15:37 AM
Axelrod’s built a cubicle out of oversized pork ’n’ beans cans. He calls it “the weathercenter.” It’s been beeping all fucking night. 07:24:30 AM
Report from Axelrod’s weathercenter has the big storm hitting later this afternoon. Perfectly fucking reasonable to get drunk now. 07:40:06
Irish motherfucking coffee for the fucking win. 07:41:38 AM
Public service announcement: in about three hours, you’re going to need a lot of fucking whiskey. 12:49:49 PM
The storm was predicted to hit at about 3:00 in the afternoon.
Axelrod’s outside just bellowing, “THE WIND IS PICKING THE MOTHERFUCK UP!” 12:54:58 PM
Axelrod’s outside screaming, “IT’S FUCKING HERE! IT’S FUCKING HERE!” 03:25:55 PM
Axelrod’s got a line of Teamster trucks parked outside and he’s attaching plows to them. Motherfucking shovel fucking ready. 03:53:08 PM
That’s right, Chico, Braun, and Del Valle, what do you got? Don’t bring a motherfucking shovel to a plow fight. 03:56:54 PM
Oh fuck. I already ate all the motherfucking Oreos. Thinking about sending Carl the Intern out to pick up more. 04:05:49 PM
Axelrod just came in for a quick check-in at the weathercenter. His eyes are shining like motherfucking beacons. “This is my time.” 04:09:38 PM
Sending Carl the Intern out on a sled, with Quaxelrod and Hambone mushing. Hope he’s back with the fucking Oreos soon. 04:16:53 PM
Looking out the periscope Axelrod hooked up. I’m pretty fucking sure snow isn’t supposed to fall UP. What the fucking fuck. 04:33:21 PM
Plan: When this shit is over, massive fucking snowball fight on Ravenswood. East side of tracks vs. west side. 04:44:04 PM
A giant fucking snowball rolled against the crawlspace door. It busted open and out fell Carl the Intern, Hambone, Quaxelrod, and my Oreos. 05:20:09 PM
Axelrod just called in from a Teamster truck. “We’re going to go surf a plow on the lake. You in?” Fuck yes I’m in. 07:26:40 PM
The plan: we’re going to hit velocity on the Michigan Ave curve, launch into the water, and ride a motherfucking 18' wave to victory. 07:31:45 PM
Holy fuck. Unless you’ve got a fleet of Teamsters to drive you around, STAY THE FUCK INSIDE. It’s insane out here. 07:41:33 PM
Me, I’ve got a fleet of Teamsters, and we’re barreling down Milwaukee. ACES FUCKING HIGH, YOU MOTHERFUCKING STORM. 07:45:45 PM
Up on the roof of the cab, heading north down Lake Shore fast. Curve’s coming up. Time to hang the fuck on … 07:56:45 PM
… and we’re off the curve and in the goddamn air, flying. The wind and water are like wild animals fucking. 08:02:28 PM
We caught the wave! It’s a fucking 20-fucking footer, all fucking gray and ice and snarl. 08:04:33 PM
Balanced on the roof of this plow cab, riding a fucking ice wave, in the middle of the worst fucking blizzard in a generation. 08:06:30 PM
I’M THE FUCKING KING OF THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD! 08:06:41 PM
Lake Shore Drive was a disaster zone that night. The storm hit just before the evening commute and the roadway became dangerous. Three accidents between 7:15 and 7:45 pm slowed traffic down, and, as the snow, ice, and winds enveloped vehicles, they became stuck. Some drivers were in their cars for more than 12 hours. Others abandoned their cars on the roadway. In all, the city had to tow more than 500 abandoned cars off Lake Shore Drive.
Back at the crawlspace, hot toddies all the fuck around. Fucking stay the fuck warm, bitches. 08:45:22 PM
MOTHERFUCKING THUNDERFUCKINGSNOW ALL UP IN HERE. 10:22:52 PM
Seriously, thundersnow. For real. I’d seen a fair number of blizzards in Chicago, but I’d never seen anything like that.
Dig Me Out
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
HOLY FUCK. IT IS INFUCKINGSANE OUTSIDE. 08:47:41 AM
The official snowfall total for the blizzard was 20.2 inches. But because of the high winds and the fine-grained quality of the snow, there was a ton of drifting, leaving some spots almost snowless and others buried under many feet of snow.
A downside to living in the crawlspace under my rented house: We’re fucking snowed the fuck in. Not in—snowed fucking under. 08:58:45 AM
Carl the Intern is designing a tunnel to get us the fuck out. “The key is that it doesn’t collapse in on itself while we’re inside.” 09:01:15 AM
Carl the Intern has emptied all the pork ’n’ beans onto the crawlspace floor and is welding the cans together into a fucking escape elevator. 10:40:52 AM
When he presented the plans to me and Axelrod, he said, “It’s pretty simple, really: we’re going to Chilean Miner this shit.” 10:42:28 AM
I get the pork ’n’ beans elevator, but I’m still a little unclear on how we’re actually digging the motherfucking escape tunnel. 10:45:26 AM
Carl’s got Hambone tunneling five shafts out, which will result in a “controlled implosion.” Yeah, that sounds fucking safe. 10:59:26 AM
Where did Carl learn all this? “I’m in the Junior Engineering Club at Lane Tech.” Fuck yes. Hambone, get those paws digging! 11:02:11 AM
Lane Tech is one of the top high schools in the city. A selective-enrollment school of 4,200 students, it boasts that it has produced more students who have gone on to earn PhDs than any other high school in the country.
Hambone’s done digging the shafts, now Carl’ll trigger the implosion and we ride this pork elevator to fucking freedom. 11:20:26 AM
And we’re out. Holy fuck, it’s fucking Hoth out here. Axelrod’s handing out the goddamn shovels. Let’s get digging. 11:37:08 AM
What’s up, motherfucking sun—nice to see you. A little fucking late, though. 11:55:09 AM
Sun’s out, streets are mostly clear. MOTHERFUCKING SNOWBALL FUCKING FIGHT. 02:49:13 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, my arms fucking ache from all that fucking shoveling. Quaxelrod can barely lift his little wings. 05:05:29 PM
Carl the Intern built an igloo, and we’re all just lying around in here, fucking whiskied and exhausted. Stay fucking warm. 06:27:55 PM
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Motherfucking sweet fucking coffee. We’re drinking it in motherfucking snow cups. 07:47:16 AM
Strategy session in the igloo: Plouffe’s in over speakerphone. We can’t understand a single motherfucking word he’s saying. 08:10:59 AM
Seriously, this is fucking Plouffe: “I … hrm … kit … fuck … and … shit … Quaxelrod … log.” How the fuck does this fucking help? 08:20:41 AM
Fuck it, we’ve all left the igloo, just playing with Hambone in the snow. Plouffe’s still on speaker being unin-fucking-telligible. 08:25:45 AM
We’re all in our fucking Arctic-grade snowsuits, just wandering. Axelrod’s eyes are lit up. “It’s like we’re the last people on Earth.” 09:33:30 AM
Following the massive snowstorm, the temperature dropped into the single digits.
It really does feel like the end of the fucking world. We’re walking down the middle of the motherfucking Dan Ryan right now. 10:09:05 AM
Quaxelrod fucking owns the motherfucking express lanes. Waddling like a bad-ass motherfucker. 10:12:00 AM
The Loop is fucking abandoned. We’re swinging from the L tracks like they’re motherfucking monkey bars. 10:40:42 AM
Now we’re walking out on the lake. It’s just one giant fucking sheet of gray fucking ice. And it’s just the five of us. 11:22:16 AM
There are a lot of things I can say I’ve done with my life. But now I can say I made a motherfucking snow angel on Lake Michigan. 12:50:10 PM
Finally ran into another person. And it’s someone driving a motherfucking cupcake truck. Fucking cupcakes. 02:05:10 PM
Made it back to the igloo. Ran into a total of four people: cupcake driver, a guy on a donut run, and two canvassers for motherfucking Chico. 03:16:30 PM
Carl the Intern did an incredible job on this igloo. It’s got a couple of little snow desks, a fridge, some fucking ice couches. 05:44:48 PM
He built a little fireplace, so we’re warm in here. And we can actually stand up—major fucking benefit over the crawlspace. 05:46:28 PM
Carl even built a little second floor—sorry, “a lofted atrium”—where Hambone and Quaxelrod can hang out. This place is fucking awesome. 05:54:41 PM
Sitting in the igloo, passing a bottle around. Axelrod busted out his guitar and is singing Bon fucking Jovi. “On a steel horse I ride …” 09:07:34 PM
A belly warm with whiskey, a duck and a dog sleeping soundly, and your best friend playing Jovi. Motherfucking awesome. 09:29:40 PM
Friday, February 4, 2011
Motherfucking Jesus fucking Christ, coffee sure tastes absolutely fucking incredible this morning. 07:43:29 AM
Finally digging out Axelrod’s Civic. Starting to regret not getting the fucking passenger-side window replaced. 09:18:26 AM
With all this fucking snow, what are the chances of a giant fucking line at Hot Doug’s today? Nobody tell Quaxelrod about the duck fat fries. 09:48:07 AM
Hot Doug’s, the “encased meat emporium,” is an incredibly popular hot dog and sausage restaurant in Chicago. Lines—especially on Fridays and Saturdays, when owner Doug Sohn offers French fries deep-fried in duck fat—can snake down the block. It is absolutely worth the wait.
Motherfucking meetings all afternoon. Don’t people understand that it’s fucking Friday? 03:43:08 PM
Chicago fucking Tribune endorsement, bitches! Think of how fucking awesome that would be if anyone fucking read a newspaper. 04:38:55 PM
The Chicago Tribune released its endorsement of Rahm Emanuel. Couched in warnings of the dire financial straits the city and region are in, the endorsement concluded with the line, “This guy deserves a chance to get this near-impossible job done.”
More motherfucking meetings. It’s cute that someone still thinks there’s a race, but it’s cutting into my motherfucking Friday. 05:10:19 PM
Just walked the fuck out of that meeting. Fuck everything: it’s Friday fucking night! 06:09:21 PM
The motherfucking party is in the motherfucking igloo tonight. 07:05:23 PM
Early and Often
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Coffee, bitches. The secret is motherfucking coffee. 08:10:52 AM
Visiting early voting centers today. If you want to stop by, I’ll be the fucking guy wearing the giant foam voting booth. 08:30:20 AM
Chico just showed up wearing a huge inflatable Chico costume, and he’s pretending to use my foam booth to vote. Fuck. 10:11:00 AM
Great, now Braun’s here—regular size—and she’s fucking pretending to vote too. Why the fuck aren’t there armholes in this fucking suit? 10:39:30 AM
Del Valle just arrived and is taking inflatable Chico to task for double-fucking voting. Ha fucking ha. 11:09:49 AM
He started out saying, “This giant foam voting booth is sacred.” Then I tuned him out just like every fucking other time Del Valle talks. 11:15:11 AM
Holy fuck, foam-rubber costumes really stiffen up when you’re out in the fucking cold all day. 04:48:25 PM
Shuffling my way back to the igloo now, this frozen foam voting booth is like walking around in a fucking block of wood. 04:54:21 PM
Carl the Intern just finished splicing into the asshole’s cable, so now this motherfucking igloo gets 148 channels. HGTV, bitches. 07:52:01 PM
House Hunters is on next. Axelrod is motherfucking beside himself. “Which goddamn house are they going to choose?” 09:49:05 PM
House number one? What the fuck is that bullshit?! I’d give the rest of my fucking fingerstub for house number three! 10:25:34 PM
The fingerstub should probably be addressed. Rahm is missing most of his middle finger on his right hand. President Obama himself has made the joke you just did, saying at a 2005 roast of Emanuel that the accident “rendered him practically mute.” The accident itself happened in high school, while he was operating a meat slicer at the Arby’s where he worked. In a 2010 interview with a visibly queasy Katie Couric (which he opened by warning “I hope nobody had lunch here”), he explained that he sliced the finger “deep into the bone; it was hanging by a thread.” Instead of going to a hospital, he wrapped the finger himself, accidentally trapping some meat inside. He ended up “with five blood infections, two bone infections, gangrene, seven weeks in the hospital, a 105 fever, and [being] about one day away from looking at the other side of the ledger.” So yeah, that’s super gross.
I’m living in a motherfucking igloo, and you assholes choose a piece of shit house like number one? Fuck these fucking House Hunters. 10:33:53 PM
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Oh great, just what we need: more motherfucking, goddamn, shit-assing snow. 07:36:18 AM
Axelrod is insisting that he has this fucking shit under control, but we’re all a little afraid that he’s gone a bit snowmad. 08:24:22 AM
Axelrod’s eyes are fucking wild, like Shackleton’s on his last expedition. 08:25:47 AM
Axelrod’s gripping that shovel a little too tightly, and ranting about crystalline formations. This might not fucking end well. 08:42:50 AM
Pretty sure Axelrod thinks we’re all snowmen. He keeps yelling, “Where’s your magic fucking top hat, you snowy fucks?” 08:48:47 AM
Holy fuck: He’s taking fucking swings at us with his shovel now. We’re ducking ’em, but he’s taking chunks out of the igloo. 08:58:47 AM
Axelrod’s yelling “CORN COB PIPE”—swing—“BUTTON NOSE”—swing—“TWO EYES MADE OUT OF COAL”—swing. We are so fucked. 09:03:36 AM
Carl the Intern, Hambone, and I are backed into a fucking corner here. This may be it for us. Axelrod’s got the shovel up over his head. 09:15:41 AM
Jesus fucking Christ, we’re all fucking crying here. He’s just standing there, quivering, ready to strike. Someone tell Amy I loved her. 09:20:31 AM
This was the only direct reference to Amy Rule, Rahm Emanuel’s wife. She actually stayed in DC during the duration of the mayoral campaign—Emanuel’s two children were already enrolled in school there. I doubt this story would have been written had his family moved back too.
HOLY SHIT! IT’S QUAXELROD!! That little fucking duck just swooped in and has Axelrod by the ’stache. We’re saved! 09:25:34 AM
It’s over. We’re all sitting in the igloo together, sobbing. It’s been a hard race. Someone was going to fucking snap eventually. 09:43:58 AM
Man, Quaxelrod really took a good chunk off Axelrod’s mustache. What a great fucking duck. 09:45:50 AM
Super Bowl XX
Things are good here now. We’re all going to head out to brunch and then get busy not watching the motherfucking Super Bowl. 10:00:51 AM
Picked up a bucket of chicken, and am settling into the igloo to watch a tape of the 1985 Super Bowl. Go fucking Bears! 05:45:21 PM
The 1985 Super Bowl is legend in Chicago. The Bears vs. the New England Patriots. It was more than a game. The 1985 Chicago Bears were one of the most unforgettable collection of characters ever to assemble on a sports team. Ditka, The Fridge, Jim McMahon, Walter Payton, Samurai Mike Singletary, Steve “Mongo” McMichael, “Speedy” Willie Gault … the list could go on. The entire team recorded a song, “The Super Bowl Shuffle,” as they progressed through their season; the song featured raps by many of the players.
Ran into Chico while picking up chicken. He said he was watching “just for the commercials,” which confirmed that he’s a raging douche. 05:54:05 PM
God, I fucking miss you, Sweetness. When you ran the ball, it really was like you were making romance. 05:55:26 PM
“Sweetness” was the nickname of Walter Payton, the storied Bears running back, Hall-of-Famer, and all-around legend. He died in 1999 of complications related to a rare liver disease and cancer. Payton’s verse from the Super Bowl Shuffle begins, “Well, they call me Sweetness / And I like to dance. Runnin’ the ball is like makin’ romance.”
Second fucking half of Super Bowl XX. I know how it ends, but I fucking cry every time. Tears of fucking joy. Go Bears. 07:36:23 PM
Christ, we’re just watching, rewinding, and rewatching when the Fridge runs in for the motherfucking TD. Go Bears. 08:33:46 PM
The Fridge was a 382-pound defensive lineman for the Bears whose gap-toothed smile and friendly personality made him an overnight star. They even made a G.I. Joe figure based on him. Unfortunately, after I sent out this Tweet, someone @replied with a recent story in Sports Illustrated about The Fridge’s long battle with alcoholism, his weight, and his overall health. But that moment in Super Bowl XX, when he’s brought in and scores a touchdown, really is a memory that most Chicagoans over a certain age have forever burned into their brains (for positive and negative reasons—many Chicagoans are still angry that the play robbed Walter Payton of his only chance to score in the Super Bowl).
God, XX really was the greatest game that was ever fucking played. Our matching ’85 Bears sweaters are aglow. 08:42:58 PM
CUE THE SUPER BOWL MOTHERFUCKING SHUFFLE. 08:56:29 PM
Monday, February 7, 2011
Ended up staying up all night rewatching Super Bowl XX over and over. My entire fucking day is going to be fueled by coffee. 07:46:43 AM
Be Like the Unicorn on My T-shirt
Sweet motherfucking coffee, I love you more than I love myself. 07:59:33 AM
Working on my economic innovation plan, but really need a motherfucking mustard-out-of-my-shirt plan instead. 12:18:42 PM
You know what doesn’t work? Bleach. Now I have a white spot on my blue shirt, and a motherfucking chemical burn on my chest. 12:34:33 PM
Bleach-burn remedy: lie down shirtless in the snow. It stings for a minute, but then you don’t feel a fucking thing. 01:16:08 PM
Best thing about being endorsed by Jesse White is getting to hang out with the fucking Tumblers. Motherfucking back flips! 04:05:12 PM
Jesse White has been the secretary of state of Illinois since 1998 and a politician in both local and state politics since the ’70s. He’s perhaps better known as the founder and coach of the Jesse White Tumblers, a “juvenile delinquency prevention program” active since 1959 that teaches kids responsibility through tumbling exhibitions. More than 13,000 kids have been involved in the program since its inception; they’ve toured around the world, performed for presidents, been on Letterman (“as well as several performances on Nippon Television in Tokyo”), and are generally amazing.
HOLY FUCK: Carl the Intern can fucking flip clear over the goddamn igloo. The Jesse White Tumblers are going fucking nuts! 04:46:12 PM
Axelrod just tried to clear the igloo too, and now we’ve got an Axelrod-shaped hole in the wall. Fuck. 04:52:23 PM
Also, he appears to have a pretty fucking wicked concussion. Just fucking perfect. 04:56:36 PM
Do yourself a favor, and don’t look at the motherfucking weather report for the next few days. 09:17:03 PM
Single digit temperatures—dipping below zero most overnights—dominated the five-day forecast.
We’ve sent Carl the Intern out to harpoon a motherfucking whale so we can use the blubber to keep warm. 09:24:22 PM
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Been carving whale blubber since Carl got back. Upsides: so motherfucking warm. Downsides: it really fucks up a suit. 07:44:07 AM
Now that these fucking blubber coats are finished, Axelrod wants to go hunt saber-toothed cats, but I was thinking mastodon ride. 07:49:31 AM
Before you give me shit about my whale blubber coat, I’m pretty sure I saw a Groupon ad that said it was OK. 07:54:11 AM
Groupon debuted its first TV ads during the Super Bowl, and the media coverage over the next couple of days was intense. Conceived as tongue-in-cheek parodies of celebrity endorsements of causes, Groupon’s ad included saving the whales and the rain forest. But it was one about the plight of the Tibetan people that raised the most ire. “The people of Tibet are in trouble,” the ad, narrated by actor Timothy Hutton, explained. “Their very culture [is] in jeopardy … but they still whip up an amazing fish curry. And since 200 of us bought on Groupon.com, we’re getting $30 worth of Tibetan food for just $15.” It’s probably no surprise that the joke-URL the ads pointed to, savethemoney.org, is no longer active.
Riding a mastodon over to unveil my economic innovation plan. It’s so fucking cold even the mastodon is shivering. 09:17:21 AM
Unveiling my economic innovation plan at a novelty T-shirt company. Yes, the irony is so motherfucking palpable you could put it on a shirt. 09:34:55 AM
It was back to Threadless for Rahm Emanuel to talk budget and the economy. He announced a $75 million spending freeze, and a plan to build a “Google-like” tech campus in Chicago, among other proposals.
Axelrod fucking loves this place: “I’m voting up 715 different designs with mustaches on them.” 09:42:42 AM
Original plan was to do this speech at Groupon, but now everyone thinks they’re fucking assholes. Note to self: lay off the Tibet jokes. 09:50:21 AM
So now I’m talking about innovation in a warehouse, wearing a T-shirt with a unicorn on it. Actually, that part’s fucking awesome. 09:55:34 AM
This is the second time I’ve been to this place, and they still insist on giving me a tour. It’s still just giant fucking boxes of shirts. 10:02:43 AM
Speech preview: “We’re Chicago. Maybe—just fucking maybe—we can build something better than stupid T-shirts and half-off deals.” 10:08:22 AM
Speech preview: “I remember when Daniel Burnham kicked the fucking world in the nuts. Let’s get back to being a town of fucking nut-kickers.” 10:11:36 AM
Speech preview: “Because somehow this town has confused driving fucking cupcakes around with goddamn innovation.” 10:14:54 AM
Speech preview: “So, Chicago, let’s stop screwing around. Let’s be like the unicorn on my T-shirt: fucking incredible.” 10:18:20 AM
Speech preview: “You can fuck around with stupid shit all you want, but in the meantime New York is making us look like chumps. Again.” 10:29:31 AM
And then the plan is to just lead everyone in chanting “FUCK NEW YORK!” and fucking high-five the shit out of everyone. 10:30:29 AM
Burning whale blubber in the igloo tonight. It’s motherfucking warm, but it smells like death. 07:22:53 PM
Axelrod keeps checking the thermometer and announcing the temperature as it plunges. It’s like we’re descending into a frozen fucking hell. 08:49:55 PM
“Five degrees.” This whale blubber had better be all they say it is, or we’re going to be frozen fucking fish sticks by morning. 09:12:41 PM
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Sweet fucking Jesus, thank you for these motherfucking coffee-sicles. They bring icy salvation. 07:24:16 AM
Hambone just delivered new poll numbers. Fifty-four percent? I think I can feel my motherfucking toes again. 07:34:06 AM
ABC 7 released a poll that had Rahm Emanuel 40 points above his closest competitor, Gery Chico, who had 14%.
We’ve carved out a sledding hill in the shape of Braun’s poll trends, but we’re all scared to try it: too fucking steep. 07:46:19 AM
Carol Moseley Braun, who had enjoyed a bump to 26% in early January following the dual dropouts of Davis and Meeks, had dropped precipitously in polling, to fourth place, with just 6%.
Axelrod tried it, and I think he woke up half of Ravenswood screaming as he went down, “Ride of a fucking lifetime!” 07:55:19 AM
Danny Davis just showed up with a sled and a hair dryer. “I’m going to sled your damn Mt. Braun and then melt it into motherfucking nothing.” 08:11:25 AM
When this fucking race is over, I swear to fucking god, I’m going on a motherfucking vacation somewhere warm. 02:10:16 PM
Whoever thought it was a good idea to hold a fucking election in February is getting a motherfucking cock punch on the 23rd. 02:41:29 PM
Plouffe just e-mailed video of a new ad. I think it’s fucking adorable that he still thinks there’s a race going on. 04:35:32 PM
CODE FUCKING RED: whoever scheduled me to be at both a candidate forum and a debate tonight is going on my cock-punch list. 06:13:40 PM
The blizzard the previous week had forced the Chicago Defender—the long-running newspaper for the African-American community—to reschedule its mayoral debate. As it turned out, they moved it to the same night that a gay and lesbian organization, LGBT Change, had scheduled a candidate forum. That meant that candidates—who had committed to both, and who didn’t want to give up a chance to talk with these constituencies—had to race across town from one to the other. The Defender debate was the first to include all six candidates on the ballot (most snubbed Watkins and Walls).
The only thing getting me through this bullfuck of a night is visualizing that I’m somewhere else. Somewhere warm. With a water slide. 06:34:11 PM
Forum and debate complete. Now it’s time to lock myself in a bathroom and scream for about ninety motherfucking minutes. 08:13:11 PM
The debate was a pile-on on Emanuel, with Watkins whipping the crowd into a frenzy at times. As the Chicago Sun-Times reported, “Watkins often stood up to make her points, telling the crowd they had not seen much of her because the media had ignored her. That only made the cheers louder.”
Nope, screaming didn’t help one fucking bit. Going to end up washing that debate down with a pint of motherfucking whiskey. 09:51:41 PM
Madness? This is Google!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Hanging out with nerds at Google today. Up half the night building up my elfin sorcerer, in case anyone throws down a motherfucking 20-side. 07:27:46 AM
The Google Chicago office hosted a Fireside chat with Emanuel as part of its “Candidates@Google” series. It was the first candidate event outside of Google’s Mountain View campus. In the introduction to the talk, David Lieber jokingly said, “If you look around, you’ll notice that there are no media present here today. We did, however, extend an invite to @MayorEmanuel to live-tweet the event. Unfortunately, he’s holed up in an igloo with Carl the Intern.” They didn’t actually extend that invite.
That said, I may need a chalice of motherfucking mead to help me deal with these geeks. 07:29:58 AM
Carl the Intern is beside himself with excitement though. He’s been reciting the digits in motherfucking pi for an hour now. 07:33:51 AM
3.14159265 … great, now this bullshit is stuck in my motherfucking head too. 07:39:13 AM
Axelrod’s having me memorize Monty Python lines—“You know, for the nerds”—but I think he just wants someone to fucking do them with him. 07:47:08 AM
If I understood half of what was in this speech, I’d feel a lot less nervous. What the fucking fuck is a “persistent data store”? 07:52:06 AM
Carl just spent 15 minutes trying to explain what a “multiverse” is. You mean there’re other me’s? My head fucking hurts. 08:10:00 AM
I need a break from all this hobbiton, time-travel, multiverse bullshit. Where’s my fucking New York Times? 08:23:06 AM
The New York Times that morning had run the story “Fake Twitter Accounts Get Real Laughs,” which opened with @MayorEmanuel’s snow-bound adventures from the previous week. This was also where the idea of a multiverse was introduced.
Axelrod just came out in his “Tron” outfit and Carl is changing into his wizarding cloak. I just look like a fucking chump in a suit. 08:45:40 AM
Well this is the first talk I’ve ever given where half of the audience is on motherfucking Segways. 10:21:45 AM
Eric Schmidt just wheeled in on his Segway, and is circling me, tossing fucking headfakes. 10:25:41 AM
Former Google CEO Eric Schmidt wasn’t actually at the Chicago event. It was hosted by Jim Lecinski, head of the Chicago office.
I might have to do a motherfucking Bing search to figure out a way out of here. 10:27:56 AM
Schmidt wheels right up to my fucking face and says, “I know what you’re thinking: maybe I should have taken the blue pill.” 10:30:27 AM
Another alternate-dimension reference, this time from The Matrix.
Don’t ask me how it happened, but we’re out on Kinzie right now getting ready to Segway joust. I’m so fucking fucked. 12:06:57 PM
A quick note about Segways: The whole Segway section was an homage to Brian “Fitz” Fitzpatrick, the head of engineering of the Chicago office, a friend who actually owns and uses a Segway. I wrote this entire section mainly to freak him out, but it turns out he was on a cruise in New Zealand at the time.
Holy fuck. You don’t quite understand pain until you’ve been knocked on your ass by a nerd on a Segway. 12:14:13 PM
Schmidt’s just wheeling back and forth, yelling, “YOU WANT SOME MORE, BITCH?” I assure you that I didn’t even want it the first fucking time. 12:19:02 PM
Now Schmidt’s giving a speech that Axelrod says is from the movie “300,” but I wouldn’t know, ’cause I’m not a fucking nerd. 12:22:29 PM
I have no idea what he’s even saying, but Axelrod tells me when Schmidt gets to the line, “Madness? THIS IS GOOGLE!” we need to fucking run. 12:26:56 PM
Running. Holy fuck, we’re running. And we’re being pursued by 300 fucking geeks. Geeks with motherfucking swords. 12:33:59 PM
Hiding out under the LaSalle bridge. We can hear the fucking Google Segways overhead, but figure they’ll run out of batteries eventually. 12:46:39 PM
You know, shit like this never happened back when I was a fucking dancer. 12:56:07 PM
Made it back to the igloo. Eric Schmidt and his fucking Google Goons finally wheeled away when they realized they were missing “Stargate SG1.” 07:50:11 PM
Winding Down the Campaign Trail
You know what this day needs? A motherfucking debate. Here we go. 09:30:51 PM
It was the Fox affiliates’ turn to host a mayoral debate. This one, again, with all six candidates.
I swear to fucking god, there are more people asking questions than answering them in this debate. 09:34:58 PM
The debate, which was moderated by Fox anchors Bob Sirott and Robin Robinson, also featured three additional reporters from other Chicago media asking questions and a crawl along the bottom of viewer-submitted observations. It was a very confusing debate to watch.
Wait a second: What the fuck is a nanotechnology again? Just really small shit? 09:44:04 PM
And also: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ALL ABOUT? 09:44:26 PM
Holy fuck, we’re saved: invest in nanotech and hardware stores. Can I just walk out? Is that allowed? 09:48:41 PM
William “Dock” Walls included an investment in nanotechnology as one of his tentpole economic policy issues. He was, in fact, the only candidate in the race to have an entire section of his website dedicated to nanotechnology, the practice of building with atomic and molecular-level particles.
We can answer questions just based on reviews we’ve read about shit? That’s awesome, because I have Yelp fucking ready to go. LET’S DO THIS. 09:54:09 PM
One of the questions asked in the debate was whether any candidate had seen the David Guggenheim–directed documentary Waiting for Superman, about inequities in the public school system: Braun raised her hand, but then admitted that she’d not seen the film, but had watched the trailer and seen reviews.
Where have I been scared in this city? HOLY FUCK THIS IS THE DUMBEST FUCKING DEBATE EVER. 10:10:47 PM
An actual question in the debate: Emanuel and Chico were asked where they had been scared for their own safety in Chicago. Really.
You know what? Quaxelrod was right: everyone in this race is motherfucking crazy. 10:12:52 PM
End of a stupid fucking debate means it’s time to get stupid fucking drunk. 10:36:59 PM
Friday, February 11, 2011
Dear coffee, you are the motherfucking greatest of all of mankind’s inventions. 07:25:58 AM
So now we have to endure Chico strutting around like a motherfucking peacock because he’s only losing by 30 points, huh? 07:39:32 AM
A new ABC 7 poll showed Emanuel dropping below 50% to 49% and Chico moving up to 19%.
Axelrod’s doing TV this morning, which is a bummer because he was going to help fortify the igloo for the coming melt. Fuck. 07:43:40 AM
Hambone brought in today’s itinerary: some motherfucking map company. Great. More fucking nerds. 09:37:18 AM
For all the nerds I’ve put up with this week, I’d better spend every fucking day next week being dunked by Derrick Rose. 09:38:50 AM
I’d had an idea early on that Mayor Daley would admit to @MayorEmanuel that he let Michael Jordan dunk him during the Bulls’ NBA dominance of the 1990s. Ended up giving the image to Derrick Rose instead.
I have completely run out of shit to say to nerds. Maybe I’ll just give them a word problem and be done with this fucking bullshit. 10:15:15 AM
If someone could actually tell me what this motherfucking company actually does, that’d be a big fucking help. Everywhat? 10:26:37 AM
Another situation, similar to Google, when Rahm Emanuel visited a company where friends of mine work. This time it was the geolocational information company Everyblock.
Carl the Intern is trying to explain it to me, but if he says “geo”-anything one more fucking time, I’m walking out. 10:28:12 AM
I’m geolocating my ass out of this fucking place. Here’s to a motherfucking geek-free weekend. 11:34:47 AM
Oh my fucking god, it is not goddamn snowing again, is it? 01:44:59 PM
Carl the Intern is sketching out designs for an airplane that we can fly up into these fucking snow clouds. It’s motherfucking payback time. 01:59:41 PM
Problem is, I’m not entirely sure you can build an airplane out of the shit in my motherfucking crawlspace. FUCK YOU, INACCESSIBLE CLOUDS. 02:01:37 PM
Penny Pritzker’s Golden Karaoke
Snow stopped, week’s done, MOTHERFUCKING BEER O’CLOCK, BITCHES. 05:00:20 PM
Karaoke in the igloo tonight. Shit’s gonna get fucking nuts. Penny Pritzker’s bringing her golden karaoke machine. 06:50:19 PM
Axelrod shotgunned a beer and launched right into “Hot Blooded.” Motherfucking karaoke night rules. 07:08:40 PM
Carl the Intern is absolutely fucking killing it on “Tiny Dancer.” He said it was for someone special. I wonder who that is? 07:35:01 PM
Axelrod. Pritzker. “Islands in the Stream.” That is what they motherfucking are. 07:58:00 PM
Everyone’s cheering and telling me to and I’m just playing it fucking coy. Then I grab the mic and yell, “DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE??” 08:17:22 PM
“YOU’RE IN THE MOTHERFUCKING JUNGLE, BABY!” And let me tell you, from that point on, this igloo is on fucking fire. 08:18:57 PM
We’re all singing and I’m up on Axelrod’s shoulders and my head is scraping against the snow ceiling, and I don’t fucking care. 08:23:58 PM
This whole fucking world can lick “MY, MY, MY SERPENTINE!” 08:27:39 PM
Quaxelrod is quacking his way through motherfucking “No Sleep Till Brooklyn.” Honestly, the verses are tripping him up a little. 08:41:47 PM
Penny’s going solo on Cee Lo’s “Fuck You,” and she’s amazing. Take that, Gwyneth—you fucking ruined “Glee” forever. 08:52:26 PM
Axelrod just stood up, poured a little out for dead homies, and started singing “Every Rose Has Its Thorn.” A-fucking-mazing. 09:06:05 PM
And now we’re all singing “Power of Love,” arms clasped around each other’s necks, and fuck all of you assholes, I fucking love my friends. 09:23:32 PM
Surf the Igloo!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
28 degrees? HOLY FUCK, IT’S SUMMERTIME. 08:11:11 AM
This is the first motherfucking morning in a hundred years where I’m not going to end up frozen to a commuter while shaking hands at the L. 08:24:58 AM
Summer loving: We’re grilling the fucking coffee this morning. Hickory motherfucking smoked. 08:31:06 AM
29 degrees now? This bitch breaks above freezing, and we’re hitting the fucking beach. 09:24:15 AM
THIRTY MOTHERFUCKING THREE DEGREES. WE FUCKING MADE IT, CHICAGO! 10:20:10 AM
Huh. This whole “living in an igloo” thing is about to get super fucking wet, isn’t it? 02:10:32 PM
I ate a fucked-up chicken salad sandwich today, and I’ve been dealing with my own personal mayoral runoff ever since. 07:30:04 PM
Sunday, February 13, 2011
HOLY FUCK: We have achieved near-total structural failure of this motherfucking igloo. Abandon goddamn ship. 08:38:13 AM
The temperature was close to 50 degrees, and the massive piles of snow from the blizzard two weeks before started to melt in earnest.
We’re fucking surfing the remains of the igloo. You served us well, our cold, snowy friend. 08:56:44 AM
It’s absolutely fucking incredible outside. Axelrod’s busted out the Speedo, and we’re all motherfucking jealous. 12:27:59 PM
Seriously, if you’re not outside right now, you’re clearly a fucking asshole. 12:41:55 PM
We are grilling every motherfucking thing we can get our hands on. Come over, it’s fucking awesome. 02:31:36 PM
We pulled a Slip ’n Slide up from the crawlspace. Wet and wild, motherfuckers! Best fucking day ever. 03:10:42 PM
Quaxelrod is soaring around this beautiful blue fucking sky. He’s as free as a bird now. 03:23:56 PM
Fuck you, sun! Don’t fucking set on us, you fucking gas-bastard. 04:38:00 PM
Our Grammy party got ruined when we remembered that the Grammys are motherfucking awful. 08:32:34 PM
We’re cleaning a few dozen cans worth of pork ’n’ beans off the floor of the crawlspace. Escaped in such a hurry last week, we fucking forgot. 08:41:12 PM
Hambone, it should be said, is in fucking heaven. That little dog has probably eaten six cans’ worth himself. What could go wrong with that? 08:43:37 PM
Monday, February 14, 2011
Carl the Intern’s Valentine’s surprise was to dye the coffee red. It looks like we’re fucking drinking blood. 07:47:10 AM
Axelrod’s fucking into the blood-coffee. “It’s like I’m Edward.” 07:48:39 AM
That would be Edward Cullen, the vampire protagonist of the runaway hit young adult novel Twilight.
I’m trying to track down a bouquet of nobody-gives-a-fuck for Braun. Fuck me if the florists aren’t swamped. 07:57:37 AM
There’s a motherfucking debate on Valentine’s Day? How fucking romantic. 08:25:28 AM
Couldn’t find the flowers for Braun. Settled for a box of in-two-weeks-everyone’s-going-to-fucking-forget-about-you-again. 08:34:25 AM
Valentine for Chico: On the front is a kitty holding a paper heart. Inside it says, “Let’s go, asshole. Fuck you, Rahm.” 08:42:02 AM
I keep starting a card for Del Valle, and then I get about 8% done and wonder why I’m even fucking bothering. 09:00:14 AM
Del Valle’s poll numbers stayed consistently in the 6–8% range throughout the race.
Debate prep: Axelrod’s Chico; Carl the Intern in my wife’s wedding dress is Braun; Hambone is Del Valle. Quaxelrod? Carol fucking Marin. 03:23:47 PM
Carol Marin is the long-ruling queen of Chicago television news. She was the coanchor of the legendary local NBC news team in the 1980s (seriously, it was a thing) and continued her reign until 1997, when she resigned in protest because the station announced that they had signed 1990s shock-TV personality Jerry Springer as a regular commentator.
To be honest, the duck is kicking all of our asses with these fucking questions. 03:28:41 PM
Quaxelrod is clearly angling for a news anchor gig, with all his feathered fucking showboating on these debate prep questions. 04:00:29 PM
Fuck this, I’m prepped. How hard can it be: schools, budget, cops, how fucking crazy Braun is. Done, done, done, and done. 04:21:40 PM
OK, Carol Marin, let’s motherfucking debate this shit. 07:02:36 PM
Next debate, we should do this shit with motherfucking Muppets. Del Valle would look incredible. 07:07:17 PM
Braun’s zombie smile is fucking incredible. When I’m mayor, I’m appointing her to the committee of motherfucking crazy smiles. 07:13:51 PM
Basic debate strategy: Sit back and let everyone else mother-fucking destroy each other. Chico Tea Party endorsement, go! 07:19:32 PM
Because each non-Rahm candidate’s strategy was now to be the runner-up and go to the runoff, there was a lot of undercutting one another in this debate. Most notably, out of the gate, was Miguel Del Valle referencing the fact that the Chicago Tea Party (it actually exists) had endorsed Chico. Chico’s response? “Happy Valentine’s Day, Miguel.” Chico said he had neither sought nor knew anything about the endorsement.
So far Quaxelrod’s prep questions were spot-fucking on. My “gotcha” should be about bread crumbs in the parks. Fucking ready. 07:22:13 PM
Motherfucking motherfuck, that question had nothing to do with motherfucking bread crumbs. My ass hurts. 07:24:32 PM
Indeed, the question was not about bread crumbs but instead a pointed question about Emanuel’s position on the board of directors of mortgage giant Freddie Mac from 2000 to 2001. Freddie Mac was taken over by the government following the housing market crash of the late 2000s.
I hope Jody Weis isn’t doing his normal Monday-night drinking game on his name, because he’s fucking gone by now. 07:35:06 PM
Police Superintendent Jody Weis was not a popular figure in the waning days of the Daley administration. During the debate, Marin raised the point that crime had gone down the past year, and why should Weis be fired?—something all the candidates had said they’d do.
You know what’s pathetic? That 70% of this debate is about corruption. Motherfucking Chicago, you’re a hard fucking city to love sometimes. 07:42:49 PM
Fucking goddamn done with that bullshit. VALENTINE’S NIGHT COMMENCE. 07:56:22 PM
Drinking the Carol Marin: bourbon, lemon syrup, bitters, sparkling wine. Delicious, and it’ll kick your fucking ass. 08:01:37 PM
Fun fact: When my identity was revealed, I got a voicemail from Carol Marin, calling to thank me for naming a drink after her. “Now I know how Harvey Wallbanger felt.”
Sufficiently drunk to move on to the highlight of my Valentine’s night: throwing chunks of slush into the fucking lake. 08:15:40 PM
50 Wards in 50 Hours
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Motherfucking coffee, you’re all I fucking need today. 07:58:53 AM
50 Wards, 50 hours. Whoever the fuck thought of this is most definitely going on the cock-punch list. 09:05:59 AM
In an ambitious stunt a week out from election day, Emanuel set off to visit all 50 wards in Chicago in two days. His social media team (who were largely slow-on-the-draw through the campaign) live-tweeted the visits. I had the day off, so I set my phone to text me when the actual Emanuel account tweeted, and I would respond with a fantasy ward stop in real time.
I just visited my hundredth motherfucking L stop. One fucking week more of this shit and then all the pain goes away. 09:26:07 AM
This would be a lot more tolerable if it was 50 wards in 50 minutes. Just gun the fucking Civic and fly through all of them. 09:33:22 AM
Upside of this fucking 50 Wards concept: Pretty much every goddamn stop is a coffee shop. 50 motherfucking cups, let’s go. 09:53:46 AM
Another upside: can really flesh out my “Wards that are pieces of shit” list. 10:05:27 AM
Quaxelrod’s giving me fucking grief about the lack of ponds in every ward. There’s a motherfucking lake—appreciate that. 10:26:14 AM
It would be motherfucking awesome if we weren’t changing a tire in front of an old folks’ home in the 40th Ward right now. 10:39:39 AM
That’s it, it’s time for a Ward-off. 44 surrounded me with adorable children. The fuck you got, 36? 11:09:19 AM
Got word that the 20th Ward has built a pit filled with fun-sized candy bars for me to jump in. Fucking top that, 27th. 11:30:14 AM
Jackpot: petting zoo in the 43rd Ward! You are so fucking fucked, 34th. 11:35:50 AM
MOTHERFUCKING BABY GOAT ALERT. Holy fuck, it’s so goddamn cute it hurts. 11:42:22 AM
It’s no baby goats, but the 42nd Ward had a pretty good comeback: They’re all giving me piggyback rides. Fucking amazing! 11:50:47 AM
Holy shit, Ward 26—a human-sized Italian beef. I’m getting motherfucking dipped! 01:03:20 PM
The Italian beef sandwich—invented in Chicago in the 1930s—features thin-sliced roast beef and is either served “wet” or “dry.” If you order it wet, the entire sandwich is dipped in beef broth.
Word has it that the 35th has set up a miniature Tokyo and has a big Godzilla suit for me to stomp it all with. Can’t fucking wait! 01:11:04 PM
Prize to the first ward that will just let me lie down and take a fucking nap. Maybe push the bed around a little, sing a song. 01:15:35 PM
Hot air balloon in the 22nd ward. I can see motherfucking Joliet from up here! 01:36:30 PM
Bumper boats in the 24th ward. You’re in the motherfucking drink, Axelrod! 02:01:32 PM
Holy fuck: the 28th Ward stole all the remaining snow from the 24th and built a huge luge run! LUGE MOTHERFUCKERS, LUGE! 02:35:55 PM
Holy fuck, we’re dragging that muffler down the motherfucking street, aren’t we? I see fucking sparks out the back window. 03:16:08 PM
Thanks, 29th Ward, for fixing our muffler! Too bad the 31st Ward just smoked your fucking ass with a block-long banana split. 03:33:10 PM
Driving around these wards would be a whole lot fucking less boring if the goddamn radio in Axelrod’s Civic wasn’t busted. 04:49:36 PM
I swear to fucking god, I will donate $2,500 to the charity of your choice if you can come and fix this motherfucking radio. 05:30:31 PM
Prior to this Tweet, the @MayorEmanuel @reply stream exploded with news that the real Rahm Emanuel had gone on a popular drive-time radio show and offered $2,500 to the charity of the author of @MayorEmanuel’s choice. To say that that freaked me out would be the understatement of the year.
Ward 39 made a motherfucking mashed potato Sears Tower. It even has working elevators. Fucking incredible! 05:44:25 PM
The next motherfucking ward I visit had better have a fucking swimming pool filled with whiskey. 06:04:01 PM
Ward 41 came through with a motherfucking gin Jacuzzi. Haven’t sat in one of these since Thanksgiving at Ari’s. 06:33:10 PM
Hide-and-seek in the crawlspace. I am stuffed so far into this fucking box of baby clothes that nobody is ever going to find me. 08:22:09 PM
I can hear them calling my name out there, but fuck it. I can lie stiller than the fucking lake on a windless night. 08:25:45 PM
There’re a couple of picture books in this box if I get bored. And a big fucking stack of cloth diapers, so I’m good on that end too. 08:28:54 PM
But here’s the thing: I could stay in this box all fucking night, and you know who I am at the end of it? An asshole in a box. 08:33:04 PM
So really, what the fuck was the point of getting into this goddamn box in the first place? Oh, right: because it’s a motherfucking game. 08:36:08 PM
So you fucking play the game the way it’s played, right? Isn’t that the whole motherfucking point of hide-and-seek: to not be found? 08:42:44 PM
Fuck it: HIDE-AND-SEEK, MOTHERFUCKERS. I’ll get out of this goddamn box of baby clothes when I’m motherfucking ready. 08:47:12 PM
Which, admittedly, might be kind of soon because I think I just heard Axelrod pop a fucking beer. 08:51:54 PM
This entire hide-and-seek section, as well as the extended hallucination sequence to come, was a reaction to Emanuel’s radio appearance. While he’d specified that the money would be a charitable donation, it didn’t take long for the headlines to read, simply, “Rahm Emanuel Puts a Bounty on His Twitter Imposter.” And then, it suddenly felt like the search was seriously on.
Follow the White Rabbit
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Fell asleep inside this box. Have the worst fucking crick in my back and can’t really move. Uh, Axelrod? Carl? Hambone? Quaxelrod? Anyone? 07:22:33 AM
There was a shift in the night, and there’s something on top of this box now. I can’t get it open. Fucking trapped. With no coffee. 07:30:29 AM
Everyone else must be on day two of my wards tour. Which maybe is a blessing, because today is all the shitty wards. Looking at you, 14th. 07:36:04 AM
But really, there are only so many times a guy can read “Pat the Bunny,” and this pile of cloth diapers is getting fucking short. 07:40:15 AM
My son isn’t a baby anymore and I was actually walking to work while I was typing this section, and Pat the Bunny was the only baby book I could think of. As it turned out, moments after I typed it I realized that the white rabbit on the cover would play very nicely into both an Alice in Wonderland and The Matrix reference.
I am so motherfucking hungry that I might eat this motherfucking jar of fermented baby food I found. 08:02:31 AM
Ate it. And holy fucking fuck, I swear to god the bunny on the cover of that book just winked at me. 08:07:50 AM
OK, nobody fucking panic, but this box is definitely getting fucking bigger. 08:12:21 AM
I remember packing this box, but I don’t remember fitting an entire field of fucking wheat in here. That’s what I’m standing in. 08:17:32 AM
Someone just ran by me in this wheat field. He was running fucking fast. All I saw was the number 34. Sweetness? 08:21:59 AM
Definitely Sweetness. He ran by again, this time with Pat the Bunny on his back. The fucking bunny turned and said, “Follow me.” 08:25:32 AM
I have the distinct fucking feeling that this is going to be a long motherfucking day. 08:26:50 AM
We’ve been running through this wheat field for fucking hours now. It’s so hot, I ripped a sleeve off my shirt to wipe away the sweat. 12:03:00 PM
We’ve reached a clearing, and Sweetness turns and says, “We’re here.” It’s a huge motherfucking tower made out of dibs chairs. 12:05:47 PM
That fucking bunny hops off Payton’s back and scampers up the tower, and Sweetness turns and says, “We’ve run together as far as we can.” 12:08:23 PM
I turn and say, “I don’t know what to do,” but Sweetness is already gone, the dulcet tones of the Super Bowl Shuffle all that’s fucking left. 12:10:38 PM
Well, it’s either walk back through that field of wheat or climb up this tower of dibs furniture. Motherfuck it, let’s head up. 12:15:02 PM
I’m probably a mile up this motherfucking tower of milk crates and lawn chairs. All I can see in every direction is wheat ringed by water. 02:30:23 PM
I’ve reached a landing, though the tower still fucking rises above. A door opens, and the disembodied head of Marshall Field floats out. 02:35:55 PM
Marshall Field was one of the captains of industry of turn-of-the-century Chicago. He was the owner of the Marshall Field’s department store (which still stands, though it is now a Macy’s), and endowed the Field Museum of Natural History, which is named after him.
You know what? Field may be a motherfucking disembodied head, but he still looks fucking classy. Dapper tie dangling down. 02:41:27 PM
Field’s fucking luminescent mouth opens and he speaks: “If you want to run this city, there’s some things you need to know.” 02:49:51 PM
“This city burned once. The screams still haunt me. But my friends and I built it back.” His head is floating fucking circles around me. 02:53:34 PM
The Chicago Fire, which started on October 8, 1871, and burned for two days, destroyed four square miles of the city. Though the fire has long been attributed to a cow kicking over a lantern, current historians have discounted that as urban legend.
“The river, it used to bubble with poison. It killed scores. My friends and I, we reversed it.” I’m getting fucking dizzy. 02:57:34 PM
The south branch of the Chicago River used to be nicknamed the “bubbly creek” because of the gasses escaping from entrails dumped into the river from the Stock Yards in the 1800s. Add to that the fact that the sewers emptied into the river as well, and you had a very polluted waterway. The river also emptied into the lake, which is what Chicago uses for its drinking water. So you’ve got a problem. In 1900 engineers permanently reversed the flow of the river. Think about that.
“At the end of all that horror, we built a city of dreams, my friends and I. They said we couldn’t. We did.” I’m going to be fucking sick. 03:01:31 PM
The World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893 featured a dreamlike landscape culminating in “the White City,” so-named because of the white plaster used to cover the temporary buildings. The time frame for construction of the massive undertaking was brief and many didn’t believe the fairgrounds would be completed on time. The Exposition also underscored a Chicago–New York rivalry that continues to this day. In 1889, the Chicago Tribune wrote, “the hawks, buzzards, vultures, and other unclean beasts, creeping, crawling, and flying, of New York are reaching out to get control of the fair.”
“It’s a city that doesn’t quit. It’s a city that never stops believing.” And he’s humming some fucking tune I can’t place. 03:10:15 PM
And I can feel myself passing out when Marshall Field floats right up to me, looks me in the fucking eyes and says: “He’s looking for you.” 03:13:09 PM
WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FU … 03:14:12 PM
..CK. I blacked out there. My motherfucking head is pounding. There’s that fucking bunny again, climbing ever upward. Here we go. 05:00:09 PM
We’re up above the clouds now. Looking down on just a sea of pink fluff. Actually, it looks motherfucking delicious. 05:05:55 PM
It’s motherfucking beautiful up here, the sun making this tower of junk glow with the righteous power of millions of saved parking spaces. 05:09:39 PM
I’ve climbed up to another landing. Up here, the motherfucking heart of Studs Terkel is shining like a fucking beacon. 05:15:38 PM
Studs Terkel was a journalist and historian who transformed the oral history as a storytelling device through groundbreaking works like Division Street: America; Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression; and Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do. He died in his home in 2008. He was 96 years old.
A figure walks in front of the heart, its bright light still filtering through his translucent form. “Thumbs up, my friend.” Siskel! 05:19:38 PM
Gene Siskel’s smile competes with the light of Studs’ heart. His thumbs are fucking enormous. 05:21:36 PM
Gene Siskel was a movie critic for the Chicago Tribune who is best known as the cohost of At the Movies with Chicago Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert. He died in 1999 of complications from surgery to remove a brain tumor.
He’s floating just slightly above the ground, but Siskel speaks with fucking gravity: “Studs’ heart beats for all Chicagoans.” 05:25:35 PM
“Their shoulders are broad, but their hearts are fragile. You have to feel the pulse of the city,” and he waves me towards the fucking heart. 05:26:46 PM
I’m hugging the glowing fucking heart of Studs Terkel, and it’s wet and it’s bright, and I can feel all of you beat inside it. 05:28:29 PM
And now Siskel is trying to pull me away with his giant fucking thumbs, but I want to stay holding this glowing heart forever. 05:31:57 PM
“We don’t have much time.” Siskel’s yanking me backwards now, and my chest feels fucking hollow as he does it. 05:34:01 PM
“Look, there’s something you need to know, about you. About this …” but my eyes are fucking blurred, and I can feel myself falling. 05:35:42 PM
Landed. And I’m in a white room, and there’s music playing softly. And there’s no wheat, and no dibs tower. There’s no fucking anything. 07:13:21 PM
And out of the wall, just right there out of it, like it didn’t exist at all, walks Curtis Mayfield. He’s wearing a beautiful fucking suit. 07:17:37 PM
Curtis Mayfield was a seminal Chicago soul singer and performer. His work, first as a member of The Impressions, and later as a solo artist, was instrumental in defining the Chicago Soul sound.
And he’s singing, really quietly, but it’s beautiful. A slow version of “It’s All Right.” And I close my eyes, and I know that it is. 07:18:54 PM
And he’s putting his hand on my arm, the one that has the sleeve missing, and for the first time in fucking months, I just feel calm. 07:20:07 PM
And the Pat the Bunny bunny comes running over, and hops into my arms. And he’s so motherfucking soft, I could pat him forever. 07:22:06 PM
And Curtis is just humming now and the bunny is so fucking soft. And you know what, if this is it, this is pretty fucking good. 07:22:58 PM
But then Curtis says, in that beautiful fucking voice of his, “This isn’t the kind of story where it turns out you’re dead.” 07:28:28 PM
“You’ve got a lot of life still ahead of you. Especially if you don’t eat old shit you find in a box.” Curtis, fucking right on on that one. 07:30:08 PM
“And there are a lot more stories still to tell. Just don’t tell them with cheap-ass ‘they were all dead’ endings.” I fucking won’t, Curtis. 07:32:01 PM
“But my brother, it’s not life, or stories, that I want to talk about. It’s my city. It’s Chicago.” I’m starting to feel fucking woozy again. 07:33:43 PM
“Chicago is hurting. I can feel it,” and he opens his suit and inside is no body, but the motherfucking skyline itself. 07:36:11 PM
And Curtis Mayfield points to the fucking skyline inside his chest and he says, “It needs someone, someone to hold it, someone to love it.” 07:38:16 PM
And suddenly Curtis is singing again, just slow and low, and I can fucking feel the dance come back to me, and then we’re dancing together. 07:39:21 PM
And then Curtis leans in really fucking close and, in a whisper, he says, “There’s something else you should know, man.” 07:41:55 PM
And he stops dancing and looks right at me and says, so quietly it’s almost fucking inaudible, “He’s looking for you.” 07:43:56 PM
And I can’t even ask “who” before he says, “You have to go, man. You have to go right now.” And I can feel myself being pulled away … 07:45:21 PM
And I’m flying backwards fucking fast, but I hear Curtis yell out “NOTHING IS WHAT IT SEEMS, MAN. WHAT IF YOU’RE NOT YOU?” 07:47:06 PM
Axelrod and Carl the Intern are pulling me out of the box. “We heard you screaming from the 19th Ward.” I love my fucking friends. 07:54:59 PM
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Today, coffee is a steaming cup of fucking awesome. 07:28:41 AM
All day prep for the final debate tonight on a hangover from hell. Someone keep the coffee motherfucking coming. 08:35:09 AM
An entire morning of prepping for an ass fucking of a debate. Every candidate’s last chance to get a shot in. Fuck me. 12:05:15 PM
I swear to fucking god, the prep in the afternoon may as well just be “Fight Club” style: free fucking hits, come and get ’em. 12:06:48 PM
Axelrod thought that sounded like a good idea, and just took a swing at me. So I’ll be the candidate onstage with a shiner. 12:10:25 PM
Debate prep: how to deflect all oncoming assaults from other candidates, up to and including being set on fire. Stop, drop and fucking roll. 12:19:51 PM
Debate prep: if I’m challenged to a motherfucking duel, do it with swords, not pistols. 12:23:38 PM
Debate prep: if it turns into a running race, my size gives me a distinct advantage in the 50 and 100. Distance may be a fucking problem. 12:27:55 PM
Debate prep: in a pickup game, if it looks like Chico’s going in for a dunk, it’s better to draw the foul by throwing a fucking elbow. 12:31:10 PM
Debate prep: if we end up in a dance-off, those other motherfuckers are fucking done. “Black Swan,” bitches! 12:33:01 PM
Debate prep: if someone wheels in that Jeopardy-playing computer, I’ve got a motherfucking hammer at the ready. 01:06:47 PM
Watson, the Jeopardy!-playing computer, had just finished routing Jeopardy! master Ken Jennings the day before. Upon losing, Ken Jennings (who was famous for winning 74 games in a row) wrote on his Jeopardy! screen, “I, for one, welcome our new computer overlords.”
Holy shit, have you been outside yet? It’s fucking warm! Let’s do the debate outside, pool-party style. 03:31:13 PM
It brushed up against 60 degrees that day. It felt incredible.
Jesus fucking Christ, it’s fucking nuts with puddles out here. 06:20:48 PM
Who thought inviting 2,000 people to this last debate was a good idea? Might as well have built the fucking Thunderdome. 06:37:31 PM
The final debate was held at the Oriental Theater in Chicago’s Loop Theater District. It was hosted by Ron Magers, the other coanchor of the legendary 1980s Channel 5 news team. A no-joke personal hero of mine when I was in middle school (I was a news geek from a very young age), I embarrassingly misspelled his name throughout the original Tweets—that wrong has now been righted.
Also, it’s fucking disappointing that the League of Women Voters isn’t going to let us come in with pyro and entrance music. What the fuck. 06:41:25 PM
I’m walking around backstage, just headfaking the fuck out of everyone. 06:49:51 PM
Wait a second—Del Valle has a motherfucking ventriloquist’s dummy … nobody told me there was a fucking talent portion! 06:53:00 PM
OK, bitches. Let’s debate this shit. This shit is so fucking ON. 07:01:14 PM
She might be completely motherfucking crazy, but Braun’s new haircut is fierce. 07:05:02 PM
Hambone is still fucking pissed at me for the dog grooming tax. He’s been getting extra walks to make up for it. 07:09:22 PM
One of the budgetary proposals Emanuel put forth in the campaign was a sales tax increase on certain items, including limousine rides and pet grooming. Chico seized on this and called it the “Rahm Tax.”
I am still 100% fucking positive that this debate would be way fucking better if we were using Muppets. 07:15:27 PM
I’m working on a sudoku when the camera’s off me, and Jesus fucking Christ, it’s making me fucking nuts. 07:21:54 PM
Oh good, we’ve reached the “everyone shit on Rahm” part of the debate. It’s cool, I’ll go get my motherfucking raincoat. 07:35:52 PM
I’m so glad I’m wearing my unicorn T-shirt under this suit. When I get down, I just think of that golden fucking horn, and I feel better. 07:39:33 PM
I want to hire Del Valle to read me bedtime stories. He opens his mouth and a motherfucking Therm-a-Rest mattress comes out. 07:47:52 PM
If a casino actually ends up in Chicago, I swear to god, I’ll never see Axelrod again. Slot fucking jockey. 07:49:35 PM
The question of locating a casino in the Chicago area had raged ever since riverboat casinos were introduced to Illinois in 1991. It came up again at this debate. Emanuel came out in favor of it.
Of all the debates I’ve been to, I think that Ron Magers, Captain Boring, and Fake Arianna Huffington are doing a pretty fucking good job. 07:52:33 PM
Joining Magers were journalists Charles Thomas from ABC 7 and Paula Gomez of Univision.
LAST DEBATE OF THE MOTHERFUCKING RACE, I MADE YOU MY BITCH. 07:59:17 PM
Ron Magers, motherfucking beer me. 08:00:05 PM
Escape from Wisconsin
Axelrod and I just loaded up the Civic with beer. We’re heading out to Rockford to fucking party with the exiled Wisconsin Democrats. 08:50:39 PM
Geography lesson: Due north of Chicago is the great state of Wisconsin. Civics lesson: In Wisconsin the newly elected Republican governor announced that he was going to end all collective bargaining for state employee unions. Because there was also a newly elected Republican majority in the statehouse, this was going to pass. Badass lesson: Democratic Senators realized that they could stop this vote from passing simply by not showing up for work, so there wasn’t a 3–6 quorum in the Senate. So they left. Left the state. Early reports had them at a resort in Rockford, Illinois, called the Clock Tower Inn, so I sent @MayorEmanuel out to party with them.
Holy shit, Rockford sucks. But these Wisconsin Dems are fucking awesome. Beer bongs and water slides, bitches. 09:25:20 PM
Hey Wisconsin, fuck you for winning the Super Bowl, but your motherfucking Senators are bad-ass. 10:27:56 PM
Feingold just showed up with a case of whiskey and a couple of pool noodles. This motherfucking party’s going all night. 10:39:05 PM
Axelrod fucking owns this water slide. He’s fucking up there, calling out types of cheeses, and sending senators flying down. “Fontina!” 10:47:27 PM
Water slides, Feingold, beer brats, whiskey, and some motherfucking crazy-ass Wisconsin senators. I FUCKING LOVE MY LIFE. 10:57:41 PM
The Final Countdown
Friday, February 18, 2011
Choking down coffee in a Mobil station on the way back from Rockford. It’s like drinking motherfucking rotgut. 07:29:32 AM
Up all night last night and this coffee is not fucking helping at all. Five more days of this motherfucking campaign. 07:33:36 AM
Holy fuck, by the end of this weekend my shaking hand might just fall clean off. 09:11:09 AM
In strategy sessions all morning. It’s four fucking days, people; how hard can it be? Show up places, shake hands, don’t be an ass. 11:41:23 AM
Axelrod shot down my plan: greet voters in a little booth under The Bean, because shit looks fucking CRAZY down there. 11:55:19 AM
“The Bean” is the popular nickname for the Anish Kapoor sculpture Cloud Gate, which is the centerpiece of Millennium Park, the $475 million park Mayor Daley built. It’s called The Bean because it looks like a giant mirrored lima bean. And really, when you go underneath it, it looks crazy.
He also won’t let me hang a tire swing from the Hancock Building or sleep in the dolphin tank at the Shedd. Four days of fucking suck. 11:58:14 AM
5:00! Motherfucking Friday fucking night starts right goddamn now. 04:59:56 PM
HOLY FUCK, THE MOON IS MOTHERFUCKING ENORMOUS. 07:04:58 PM
While the “supermoon”—the closest the moon would be to the earth in 18 years—was actually supposed to shine the next night, it was equally huge that night.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
I am the motherfucking donut king this morning. 08:42:53 AM
OK, you sunny, chilly Saturday, prepare to get fucked. 09:26:35 AM
With all the snow melted, it takes Hambone about an hour to make it around one fucking block because of the mountains of shit he can sniff. 09:34:48 AM
Having had a dog in Chicago for many years, I can confirm that this was a familiar experience—weeks and weeks of dog shit, all exposed at once after a big melt.
This city is at its absolute ugliest when the snow melts. Fucking drifts of weeks-old Cheetos bags and Snickers wrappers. 09:55:23 AM
Motherfucking canoe races in Washington Park. Quaxelrod is smoking everyone’s ass. 01:15:34 PM
Girl Scouts on Cottage Grove! I am going to fuck up this box of Samoas! 02:54:17 PM
Jesus fucking Christ, Samoa crash. I can’t even fucking move. 03:12:29 PM
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Coffee! You are motherfucking wonderful! Let me carry you gently in my goddamn belly! 08:06:17 AM
Carl the Intern has been training a legion of volunteers this week. Chicago, prepare to get motherfucking hang-tagged. 08:38:17 AM
Carl calls them The InternCorps; they’re all wearing these fucking green rings. “We’ll be fine, as long as Chico’s not wearing yellow.” 08:48:49 AM
The Green Lantern Corps, an intergalactic police force featured in the DC Comics universe, uses green power rings that are essentially omnipotent, except against the color yellow. For real.
Holy shit, the crawlspace is flooding! MOTHERFUCK YOU RAIN! 09:35:53 AM
With the melted snow saturating the ground, the additional inch of rain that fell caused a fair amount of flooding in the region.
Spent the morning bailing out the crawlspace. Our sleeping bags are fucking soaked. Just fucking perfect. 10:51:28 AM
Quaxelrod’s fucking loving it though, bobbing his way around all the board games and action figures floating around down there. 10:59:30 AM
Lynn Sweet thinks she’s being cute publishing that old photo of me in a leotard. MOTHERFUCKING DANCE OFF, LYNN. LET’S GO. 11:12:06 AM
Chicago Sun-Times political reporter Lynn Sweet published a photo Sunday morning of Rahm Emanuel, in a leotard with a sweet Jewfro. She actually responded to this Tweet, saying “Danceoff? When? Please tweet a reply that does not have the F word in it so i can retweet to my followers …” @MayorEmanuel complied with her request: “You don’t want to mess with the black swan, bitch.” Not a single F-word.
Lunch with the Jesse White Tumblers. This gray fucking day just got a whole lot brighter. 12:34:32 PM
It’s too wet to tumble outside, so the Tumblers have set up their mats and springboard here in the motherfucking restaurant. Yes! 01:03:20 PM
The Tumblers are fucking amazing, flying right over the people eating. Each flip brings them closer to the ceiling. Beautiful! 01:24:39 PM
Now everyone’s fucking cheering—Jesse White, the Tumblers, the people eating—and one of the Tumblers calls out, “The runway’s all yours!” 01:31:05 PM
And everyone’s cleared the way, made a space for me to run at the fucking springboard. And now I’m running as fast as I can. 01:35:21 PM
AND I’M FLYING THROUGH THE AIR AND I WISH THIS MOMENT COULD LAST FOR FUCKING EVER. 01:37:43 PM
And I hit the mat and stick the landing and everyone’s cheering except Jesse White, who just gives me this awesome fucking two-finger point. 01:44:30 PM
Two more motherfucking days of this campaign, and if flying through the air free as a bird is the best there is, well I’ll fucking take it. 01:56:36 PM
Now let’s go dump some fucking Chico signs in potholes brimming with dogshit-infused rainwater runoff. 02:04:09 PM
Duct-taped a TV to the ceiling of the crawlspace and found some pool floats to sleep on. It’s like living inside a fucking waterbed: amazing. 08:23:01 PM
We’re just bobbing around in this flooded crawlspace flipping between repeats of Martin and news from motherfucking Wisconsin. 08:37:35 PM
Protesters in Wisconsin, still angry over the attempt to end collective bargaining, had taken over the Capitol Rotunda.
And maybe it’s the fucking beer talking, but I see those shots from inside the fucking rotunda, and I just get weepy. 08:41:38 PM
I mean, yeah, all those people are fucked, but they’re going to fucking go down fighting. Also important: Martin Lawrence is hilarious. 08:43:41 PM
Also: we’ve got our beer down under the floodwater, and Quaxelrod dives down when we need new cans. Ice fucking cold. 08:45:23 PM
Floating in my basement, watching TV with friends, drinking cold beer, 34 hours before polls open: fucking living the dream. 08:58:43 PM
The Two Mayors
Monday, February 21, 2011
Fucking shit fuck. Motherfucking overslept on the last fucking full day of campaigning. 08:06:00 AM
Hambone just brought the schedule: (1) shake 10,000 voters’ hands; (2) pick up Ari from the airport; (3) keep Ari away from voters. Fuck. 08:22:17 AM
Let’s just keep the motherfucking coffee coming, non-fucking stop. 08:31:06 AM
When I run for reelection, I’m having a motherfucking hand-shaking robot built. 09:01:48 AM
Carl the Intern and Axelrod are directing the InternCorps from “the command center”—a laptop and a map in the backseat of the fucking Civic. 10:02:51 AM
Asked Carl how things were going, and he said, “In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight.” The fuck does that mean? 10:05:58 AM
It’s the Green Lantern’s oath: In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might, beware my power … Green Lantern’s light!
Then he had to go running back to the Civic because Axelrod called out that “We need more Corps in sector 2814.” What the fuck? 10:09:43 AM
Sector 2814, according to DC Comics, is one of 3,600 sectors into which the Guardians of the Universe had divided the universe. It is also the sector of the universe that includes the Earth.
Fuck you, snow. Nobody fucking wants you here. Go the fuck away. 01:05:28 PM
Another 2 to 4 inches was predicted to fall.
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: whoever thought it was a good idea to have an election in February was a fucking asshole. 02:11:55 PM
The snow’s delayed Ari’s plane for a couple of hours. Probably best if it were delayed until motherfucking Wednesday. 03:36:37 PM
Wrapped in a blanket while riding shotgun in the Civic on the way to get Ari from the airport. The wind is cold through the missing window. 05:18:26 PM
“Nice blanket, Linus. Fix the fucking airport once you’re mayor, OK asshole?” Motherfucking Ari. My brother’s here. 05:40:32 PM
“How come every news clip I see of you, you’re acting like a giant walking hernia?” He’s here for two fucking days. 05:54:52 PM
“I had no clue that the prerequisite for running for mayor was chopping your balls off.” We’re stuck in fucking stop-and-go traffic. 06:05:51 PM
“Hey, how come your fucking radio doesn’t work? What kind of piece of shit car is this?” And I can see Axelrod turning red. 06:19:08 PM
“Fucking Spielberg alone gave you enough to buy a fucking Beemer, and you’re driving around in this shit?” Uh-oh—Axelrod’s pulling off. 06:27:42 PM
And now we’re all standing outside and Axelrod’s yelling “LET’S GO, ASSHOLE!” at Ari. He really loves his fucking car. 06:34:11 PM
They’re down in the snow, pummeling each other. And I don’t even notice the figure behind me until the bag’s already over my head. Fuck. 06:41:06 PM
I’m fucking gasping when the bag comes off. We’ve been driving around for an hour, clearly trying to confuse me. It worked. 08:15:26 PM
I’m still blinking, and the light is grinding a migraine into being, when I hear a voice fucking boom out from above me. 08:17:42 PM
“Sorry for the drama, but it’s not like I could just invite you over here for tea.” My fucking eyes start to come into focus. 08:19:33 PM
I pull my head up from the marble floor and there, standing above me, is the massive fucking frame of Mayor Daley. 08:20:32 PM
Daley helps me up, his hands fucking envelop my arms completely. “Sorry again, but we needed to talk tonight. Can’t take chances.” 08:26:47 PM
“Look, there are some things you need to know.” I’m here! In his office! In City fucking Hall! 08:28:50 PM
“So the toilet, just down the hall, you need to jiggle the handle after you flush.” Daley’s not really making eye contact. 08:29:50 PM
“And Magdalena, she cleans up on alternating nights. If you have shit you don’t want thrown out, make sure you put it away.” 08:30:40 PM
“And I’ve made a little calendar of all the secretaries’ birthdays. Don’t forget.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think Daley was welling up. 08:33:24 PM
And suddenly Daley’s tears are gone, and they’re replaced by anger. “Don’t fuck all this up. There’s so much more than you know.” 08:37:06 PM
And Daley’s gesturing for me to follow him, and suddenly we’re out a window and heading up a motherfucking fire escape. 08:38:49 PM
We’re on the roof of City Hall. The wind is fucking strong and the snow stings when it hits my face. Daley heads into a glass dome. 08:47:31 PM
It’s so warm and beautiful in the dome—green everywhere—and the air is pungent with the smell of … is that fucking celery? 08:50:06 PM
There is a garden on the roof of City Hall, originally planted in 2000 to demonstrate the benefits of green roofs. No part of the garden, to the best of my knowledge, is covered by a glass dome. There are beehives up there though, which is just very cool.
Daley fucking plucks a stalk. “Care for these. Let flowers bloom. Dry them. Harvest the seeds. Grind them. Mix with salt.” 08:53:22 PM
This is my favorite Tweet of the entire stream: the entire process of growing, harvesting, drying, and creating celery salt encapsulated in a single Tweet. Celery salt is the key topping on a Chicago-style hot dog. It’s how you know you’re eating a real Chicago dog. And it’s delicious.
He hands me a small pinch of powder and the sharp taste of celery salt crosses my lips. “Our legacy,” he says, and points to the stalks. 08:58:18 PM
And it’s then that I notice for the first fucking time that, nestled amid the stalks of celery, are three modest headstones. 08:59:54 PM
Daley points to the headstones. “They’re here with us, always. Harrison, Washington, Dad.” He chokes up on that last one. 09:05:11 PM
I search the ground for three small pebbles. Daley’s fucking silent while I place one on each of the gravestones. 09:07:38 PM
Carter Henry Harrison was a wildly popular mayor of Chicago at the end of the 19th century. Harold Washington was the first African-American mayor of Chicago, elected in 1983. And of course Richard J. Daley was Mayor Daley’s father, elected in 1955. All three died in office.
“It blooms year-round, thanks to them,” he says quietly. And we’re just looking, standing, breathing the thick moist air. Together. 09:10:26 PM
“There’s something else.” Daley breaks the silence, his voice cracking just a fucking little. He flips a switch on the wall. 09:18:49 PM
There’s a whirring sound and then, up from the center of the dome, rises an oversized charcoal grill. What the fuck? 09:21:08 PM
“The mayor doesn’t just run Chicago,” Daley says, walking over to the grill. “You need to understand what’s really at stake here.” 09:24:17 PM
Daley lifts the lid of the grill, his body straining under the weight. And suddenly I don’t want to fucking know what’s inside. 09:28:01 PM
“There’s not just one Chicago. There’s not just one you. It’s infinite. And we keep the portal,” and he gestures for me to fucking look in. 09:31:31 PM
And I look and … and it’s Chicago—again and again. And tiny, in the corner, peering up at me, is … me. Thousands. Millions. 09:36:31 PM
Except. Except something feels fucking wrong. “You notice it too,” says Daley. “There’s one of you missing.” 09:38:32 PM
And Daley looks at me deadly fucking serious and says, “Which means there are two of you here, in this world, in this time.” 09:45:45 PM
“Which means,” and he looks at me now, and there are fucking tears on his face, “that one of you won’t survive this election.” 09:48:19 PM
And, before I can try to figure out what the fuck Daley’s going on about, the bag is back on my head, and everything goes black. 09:51:14 PM
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
HOLY FUCK, if there’s any fucking day in the world that I need coffee, it is this fucking day. 07:01:51 AM
I’m drinking coffee and explaining everything that happened last night. Axelrod looks so surprised his fucking mustache might fall off. 07:05:14 AM
Carl the Intern has filled an entire fucking chalkboard with equations by the time I’m done talking. “Daley’s right,” is all he says. 07:11:17 AM
And when he says it, Quaxelrod lets out the saddest fucking quack-moan you’ve ever heard a duck make. 07:11:55 AM
“I don’t know nothing about infinite fucking Chicagos,” Axelrod says. “I only know this one. And polls have been open for an hour.” 07:18:12 AM
Axelrod’s right. Whatever the motherfucking outcome, we’ve got a fucking election to win. LET’S DO THIS. 07:19:34 AM
Anyone that isn’t voting today because of the snow is a motherfucking asshole. Or an invalid—OK, you’ve got a good excuse. 09:54:01 AM
Fifteen motherfucking Get Out The Vote rallies and it’s barely even noon. Might have to hold a Get Out The Nap rally later. 12:09:27 PM
Get Out The Nap was exactly what was fucking needed. Now we’re driving old people to the polls. Ari’s hitting on most of them. 02:33:20 PM
VOTE, BITCHES. 03:11:58 PM
Carl the Intern wrote two speeches for me, one for winning and one for a runoff. There’s a lot more motherfucking profanity in the latter. 04:40:19 PM
Sitting in the backseat of Axelrod’s Civic practicing these fucking speeches. Quaxelrod’s giving notes. So far, he’s unimpressed. 05:25:07 PM
Carl and the InternCorps are on balloon duty at the party space. Ari’s over there too, rearranging fucking everything. Again. 05:25:31 PM
Axelrod and Hambone are standing outside the Civic, Hambone’s taking a shit, Axelrod’s checking exit polls. There’s a fucking metaphor. 05:26:53 PM
Everyone’s talking runoff, but I know it’s a victory. My fingerstump disappeared this morning and now the rest of the hand is fucking going. 05:35:12 PM
Time to head in to start watching results. I’m wearing a single glove over my invisible hand, motherfucking MJ style. 06:11:27 PM
7:00. Here goes motherfucking nothing. 07:04:36 PM
The polls officially closed at 7 pm.
Jesus fucking Christ. Time to start fucking drinking. Axelrod—beer me! 07:07:17 PM
Axelrod’s in with the early results: 51 motherfucking percent. Still a long night, but SUCK ON THAT, CHICO. 07:36:20 PM
FIFTY-FOUR MOTHERFUCKING PERCENT, BITCHES. 07:43:00 PM
The party is kicking the fuck off in the ballroom below. And I’m fucking seven beers in up here. 07:47:50 PM
CNN FUCKING CALLS IT, BITCHES. 07:49:24 PM
CNN was the first news organization to call the election for Emanuel, just 49 minutes after the polls closed. Everyone expected a long night, but this wasn’t one.
These motherfucking robotic vote-counting machines are kind of fucking incredible, aren’t they? 07:51:08 PM
The big plan for tonight: We’ve got a champagne fountain from the top of the ballroom to the stage. I’m going to fucking ride down it. 07:53:46 PM
Ari’s on the mic bringing the fucking noise downstairs. Mainly just bitching out the caterers. 08:01:25 PM
Quaxelrod’s already taking motherfucking a fucking victory flap around the rafters of the ballroom. 08:04:40 PM
STUPID FUCKS AT WGN CALL IT TOO. 08:08:02 PM
Twenty minutes after CNN, the local Chicago media began to call the election for Emanuel as well.
Hey, Halpin, I’ll give you until the end of the fucking night to start packing. 08:09:03 PM
If you have a giant fucking pile of money and a bunch of dumb fucks running against you, DREAMS DO COME TRUE. 08:14:45 PM
Just think about how much fucking more incredible this would feel if the Bears had won the Super Bowl too. 08:27:43 PM
Carl the Intern just ran in, with a notebook full of fucking numbers, his eyes wet with tears. “The time vortex: it’ll close tomorrow.” 08:33:34 PM
Elected mayor tonight. Sucked into a time vortex tomorrow. Might as well KICK THIS PARTY OFF RIGHT FUCKING NOW. 08:37:10 PM
Axelrod and I are double-fisting beers, smashing the empties on our foreheads. IT FEELS FUCKING GREAT TO BE ALIVE. 08:57:48 PM
Fuck the fucking champagne slide, I’m just going to jump out of this fucking window and crowdsurf to the fucking stage. 09:00:15 PM
I’M FUCKING RIDING ON THE BODIES OF THE MEN AND WOMEN OF CHICAGO, AND I FUCKING LOVE EVERY ONE OF YOU. 09:01:55 PM
Turns out crowdsurfing your way up to a stage takes a long fucking time. OK, victory speech—let’s fucking do this. 09:17:51 PM
Quaxelrod soars down from the balcony and lands gently on my shoulder. I stroke his downy fucking feathers and begin. 09:19:35 PM
“FUCK YES CHICAGO! This has been a long fucking campaign. The other assholes didn’t stand a chance, but they put up a good fight.” 09:25:18 PM
“The motherfuckers that contested my residency, you’ve got some great days ahead of you, I fucking promise you that.” 09:26:16 PM
“But to the rest of you, I’ve talked with a fuck-ton of you and I’ve learned about your resiliency, about your spirit.” 09:29:49 PM
“I’ve learned that this is Chicago and that CHICAGO DOESN’T FUCKING QUIT, NOT FUCKING EVER.” 09:31:38 PM
“I’ve slept in an igloo and I’ve slept in a crawlspace and I’ve slept under a bridge. But as long as I was asleep in Chicago, I didn’t care.” 09:33:42 PM
“I’ve held the motherfucking pulsating heart of Chicago in my hands, and I know that it beats true.” 09:35:18 PM
“Through everything—through assholes, through cockholes—I’ve had two things: the people of Chicago, and my fucking friends.” 09:39:06 PM
“And sure, to save the fucking world, I have to disappear into a time vortex tomorrow. But being mayor is about making the hard decisions.” 09:41:46 PM
“But tomorrow is tomorrow, and TONIGHT’S A FUCKING PARTY. LET’S GO CHICAGO!” 09:45:55 PM
And I dive into the crowd, and their hands hold me up, and together we are fucking one. 09:47:52 PM
This party’s going to go all fucking night. Fuck you, tomorrow, you’re just gonna have to wait. 11:21:47 PM
Into the Vortex
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Motherfucking coffee, I’m going to drink you like there’s no goddamn tomorrow. 07:37:08 AM
They’d better have coffee in the parallel fucking dimension I’m descending into tonight, or I’m breaking right back out. 07:45:01 AM
We’re sharing a cup together in the crawlspace, and I can tell that Axelrod’s trying not to cry by the way his mustache fucking quivers. 07:50:45 AM
Axelrod looks up, tears filling his eyes, and says, simply, “Don’t go.” Fucking time portals are a son of a bitch. 07:58:30 AM
“There must be something we can do …” But there’s not. Only things that fucking suck never end: look at laundry, or dishes. 08:05:27 AM
And we hug, and I give Axelrod that look that asks, “Are you going to be OK?” And he gives me that look that says, “Who fucking knows?” 08:11:53 AM
And we sit down and plan out one last, perfect, day: lunch at Manny’s, mooning Chico, tossing fucking bread to Quaxelrod. 08:15:10 AM
Watching Axelrod eat at Manny’s is like watching Da Vinci paint the motherfucking Mona Lisa: a work of art. 12:54:27 PM
Driving around in Axelrod’s Civic, doing loops around the block outside Chico’s offices, my ass hanging out of the missing window, laughing. 03:16:41 PM
Tossing bread to Quaxelrod under the Cortland Street Bridge. The view from here is motherfucking incredible. 04:28:57 PM
Knowing I’m entering a time vortex tonight would be a lot more tolerable if I could get Journey’s “Separate Ways” out of my fucking head. 05:44:58 PM
If you have that track handy, queue it up now. In fact, once you’re done reading, you might want to pour some coffee or grab a beer, depending on the time of day, and listen to Journey’s Greatest Hits in its entirety, just because that would be an awesome thing to do.
Picked up Carl the Intern at Lane Tech, after his mathletes practice. Carl’s first words: “There’s not much time left.” Motherfuck. 06:53:30 PM
We’re driving down Elston when, all of a fucking sudden, Axelrod’s radio starts working. It’s playing that fucking Journey song! 07:02:07 PM
And we’ve pulled the Civic over, turned up “Separate Ways,” and we’re fucking dancing out here on the motherfucking streets! 07:04:44 PM
FUCK YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKING TIME VORTEX. I FUCKING LOVE DANCING WITH MY FRIENDS. 07:07:09 PM
And then the sky fucking opens up on us, and there’re chunks of ice flying down. And it’s pretty clear that the party’s over. 07:26:17 PM
And I can see myself starting to fade out, and I hear Axelrod whispering the fucking Kaddish quietly to himself, tears streaming. 07:31:38 PM
And that song’s still playing from the car radio, on a never-fucking ending loop from hell. 07:32:45 PM
Carl the Intern can’t even make eye contact, but he’s reaching out, and I touch his hand. And he says, “I love you,” and I say, “I know.” 07:34:27 PM
Quaxelrod flies over, dips his little head, and touches my fading shoe. Hambone just curls softly between my invisible legs. 07:37:28 PM
I can see a thousand fucking skylines, and they are all as motherfucking glorious as the first, and I can feel the touch of my friends. 07:39:08 PM
And now all I can hear is that music, and suddenly everything just fucking … 07:40:45 PM
© 2011 Dan Sinker
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
This book is wonderful. It's creative - each entry is no more than 140 characters, relevant - about recent politics in the country and Chicago, and hugely funny. Sure this book is a bit on the vulgar side, but it's the funniest thing I've read in years. If you like to laugh and love how ridiculous (Chicago) politics are read this immediately!