Inside McCain's head. It's a scary place but someone had to go there.

How did it ever come to this, my friends.

I mean how the FUCK did I end up in danger of getting my ass kicked by THAT ONE, that colored kid who four years ago was a back bencher in the Illinois State Legislature.

(Oh right, I'm not supposed to say colored. Well back when I was growing up that was the polite way to refer to those people. At some point that changed. Must've been when I was serving my damn country in a fucking rat-hole of a prison in North Vietnam. I've served my damn country all my life and now I'm getting my teeth kicked in.)

I'm John McCain. I'm the original maverick (although every time I hear that bible thumping hockey mom they foisted on me say it, I'm ready to hurl). I was every Democrat's favorite Republican. John Kerry wanted me as his fucking running mate. I kept the Bushies guessing, made the Shrub kiss my ass every time he wanted my to back him up. Alright, maybe that--didn't work out to my advantage all the time, I probably kissed his ass more than he kissed mine. He pulled a fast one on me over that torture thing. I didn't make a big stink about it--I was running for President after all and rank and file Republicans are all for pulling people's nails out and attaching electrodes to their balls. That geek Guiliani was sounding like he'd enjoy doing it personally. A politician has to cover his ass if he's going to win and this time I was going to win.

I mean what choice did I have. Did you get a look at those other clowns. Guiliani, give me a break, my old friend Joe Biden got him right. A noun, a verb and 9/11. I have to admit though, he does look good in a dress. Then there's Mitt Romney, the poster child for corporate greed. Son of a bitch puts his fucking dog on the roof of a car, you know how many dog lovers there are in America--we'd have sunk faster than the Titanic. Of course there was that bass playing Bible beater Huckabee, hah, Big Money would have sat this one out big time if that rube had been the nominee. No, I was the best we had and eventually the party of Lincoln came to their senses.

I thought I'd be running against Hilary but she crashed and burned in Iowa and could never get back on her feet. That colored (er I mean black) kid is good, scary good and the people want change. George W. Bush has pretty much fucked things up so bad that if you have an "R" after your name you might as well take that pistol our party has fought so hard for you to own and stick it in your mouth.

Then he goes off on his grand tour and it was like the fucking Beatles on Ed Sullivan.

Our "Celebrity" ads took him down a peg. Then a bit of luck (or was it luck?). That asshole in Georgia goes and baits Putin one time to many and next thing you know the Russian army's in Georgia and I got me a cause. Obama's in Hawaii visiting grandma. I get to act all presidential. The polls start to swing in my direction, but I need to do something, I need me a game changer.

I'll pick a running mate, I thought, who'll shake things up so bad the Chicago Kid won't know what hit him. Joe Lieberman, my honcho, my wingman. He's a Democrat but so what. I'm Mr. Bipartisan, Mr. Reach Across the Aisles. We'd be the pragmatic problem solvers shaking up Washington.

And that's when it all fell apart. When I told my campaign managers that I wanted Joe they threw a collective fit. Karl Rove told me flat out, the right wing wackos like Dobson (gotta watch that guy around the choir boys) would walk out of the convention. Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity would crucify me on the airwaves. I'd lose every state in the Bible Belt and these days that's pretty much all a Republican can expect to win anyway.

Pawlenty or Palin they said. The base likes him but the LOOOVE her.

I know when I've been beat. I may be a war hero, my friends, but I'm not suicidal. I confessed to war crimes when they tortured me in Vietnam so they'd put me in a hospital and I backed down in the face of opposition on my running mate. Sorry, Joe, it's the Defense Department for you, my friend.

The thought of hanging around with Tim Pawlenty for four years was about as appetizing as eating stewed horse manure. At least Palin's easy on the eyes (not that I could do anything about it with that rich cunt of a wife of mine looking over my shoulder every minute of every day--not to mention that big Eskimo guy she's married to who looks like he could bench press a snowmobile) and she came off well enough the time I spoke with her. Alright, you bastards, I'll go with Palin--and if this blows up in my face--you're going to eat it.

At first it was great. The liberal media, those guys who used to love me, went nuts. Claiming she faked a pregnancy to cover up one of her daughter's. As it turned out it wasn't true--the daughter was knocked up already. Great, just great. My crack vetting team sort of missed that one. Fortunately Republicans are good at hypocrisy. I's OK if you're a Republican. I guess we're now the party who's in favor of pregnant teenagers and shotgun marriages but that's just fine. She got a great deal of sympathy and I got women swarming to me. She wowed 'em at the convention.

Then it all started falling apart. Another thing my crack vetting team failed to tell me is that the Wasilla Wonderwoman is dumber than a pile of rocks. The campaign hand picked Charlie Gibson for her coming out interview and she blew it. Didn't know what the fucking Bush doctrine was. Then there was Katie, a whole week of Katie. "Sarah, for chrissake" I told her "Even if you've never read a goddamn newspaper in your life, even you must know the name of one or two, you've heard of the fucking New York Times, FAKE IT!"

"Joe Sixpack doesn't like newspapers, especially the New York Times" she said with a perky smile and a wink. "I'd lose my everyday hockey mom, appeal if I even admitted looking at an elitist eastern liberal establishment rag like that.

The Base. The Base loves Sarah. According to Schmidt, it's all about the Base. If you can't hold the Base you can't win.

So I let him run these ads hooking Obama up to this old hippie bomb thrower he knew in Chicago. Didn't have much choice. I let Sarah run amok, didn't have much choice about that either. I'm reading about people calling for Obama's head at her rallies. Finally, I tell one of those ignorant morons who actually believe our crap about Obama being an Arab terrorist that he's a decent family man and not someone to fear, and they boo me. They boo, John McCain, a war hero who served his country with honor.

Note to Cindy. If we by some unforeseen circumstance actually win this thing, hire me a fucking food taster. I don't trust that moose-killing, Alaskan bitch as far as I can throw her.

What do I do next? I don't know. The economy's in the toilet. Obama's got a double digit lead and my wonderful campaign staff's strategies seem to be doing nothing but revving up the people who were going to vote for us anyway and turning off anyone who's not a die hard member of the wing-nut squad. I'm about to go down in history as the worst candidate in the history of the Republican party. I'd like to go down with dignity and maybe even have a shot at grabbing some moderate, mainstream voters but If I do the Base will tear my guts out.

I'm John McCain. I used to be a prisoner of war. I am now a prisoner of the Base and I do not approve this message.

Your head could have exploded if you hadn't let it out! OMG, great post! Thanks!:bounce: :kick: :yourock: :woohoo: :rofl: :spray:

spin that can be put on McCain. Maybe a touch more confusion, though.

I also didn't put in anything about his reaction to the economic crisis although there's a great deal of depth to plumb there.