Last week the MCHY Campaign Train rolled through Virginia, all hands on deck for our main homeboy, Barack Obama-ji.
I got the first call three weeks ago after Edwards let us know he was going to be dropping out to spend time with Liz while she deals with her breast cancer. I wished her well on behalf of the MCHY Political Alert Team. Levitas (our HNIC) sent her a get well bouquet with a good sampling of killer NorthWest buds tucked into the lilies. Liz rocks the blunts, no lie.
This last Saturday was the Washington caucuses. Since John bowed out, our pro-Obama-ji work was less than we expected. Ivan (HardCore Russki Invertebrate) got the call at 2:00am as he was mixing the Crulavethane. He works late. Good guy, just gotta watch the vodka.
Three words came across the line: “take her down.” To us, this meant no holds barred.
Within an hour, Oregon Jason was on his way up from the depths of the crusty gutter punk heaven known as Eugene. He had come down enough from his Ritalin-induced fly-high to manually control a motor vehicle and was bringing with him a crew of the finest rapscallions available on the Best Coast, each perfected in an art of domestic terrorism with a minor degree in misbehavin’.
The game was on. By the time Hillary got her decrepit staff into the warehouse on the pier, we had already epoxied most of the door locks around the building closed and had the phosphor pots set on the top of the entry pavilion.
Ivan, dressed in his Seattle City coveralls, was milling about the parking lot, acting the role, the whole time spraying the Crulavethane from a garden sprayer onto the cars of those assembled for the speech by her Majesty the Cold Hearted.
Later that night, as the cars drove across the tarmac, the tires would heat up to the melting point of Crulavethane and entire lanes of traffic would be caught in the glow of the ensuing conflagrations.
As to why we are supporting Mr. Obama-ji, let it be said by myself that we deem him worthy to effect change within our crumbling democracy by being enough of an outsider as to not be beholden to those who hold favors about one’s head. Let us remember Vince Foster, rest his killed-in-the-park soul.
Also, when it comes to meeting representatives of foreign governments, I would much rather prefer Mr. Obama-ji than the elder Mr. McCain or the Senator from New York. I think he would be more honest and receptive to the sufferings and causes of those worldwide. I think he would restore trust and honor to the country that the Bush administration has sought to destroy. And last but not least, it is about time we had a black President. Sorry Hillary, your haircut is cool and all, but you remind me of Grandma and that… is just too fucking weird for me.