By Zach Hosseini
Figured out what a caucus is yet? Me neither. I know what a Dukakis is though; but that’s neither here nor there. But anyway, my “Get Fuzzy” calendar tells me it’s 2004.
This tells me that those “slimy Democrats” will be infesting our fair city when the Democratic National Convention is held in July. (On a side note, is anybody else bummed that we’re hosting the Montana delegation at West Village? Can we do no better than a state that has a city called Butte? Anyway, I heard BU was getting the MCFN, also known as the Malibu California Female Nudists. Rats.)
For anyone brave enough to tear themselves away from “Survivor XXXI: Revere,” and watch the Democrats go at it, you’ve seen an interesting race. In the past couple months former Vermont Gov. Howard Dean has been ordained the favorite.
You’ve seen condiment heir Sen. John Kerry fade like my hopes of getting a housing lottery number. Then there’s Joe Lieberman who got the pimp backhand from Internet creator Al Gore when Mr. Gorboto endorsed Dean instead of his old running mate.
Don’t forget the Rev. Al Sharpton who pulled the old “Well if I can’t win, then nobody can” routine as he ambushed Dean on race issues on television — giving us the Howard Dean caught on the toilet face.
Then there’s Richard Gephardt who’s about as inspiring as a New England winter. Then, Gen. Wesley Clark showed up about five months late expecting us to believe that his car broke down on the way over. John Edwards? To quote comedy legend David Spade, “I liked him better the first time I saw him. When he was called Bill Clinton.”
And Carol Mosley Braun quit this past week because she was let in on the worst kept secret in American political history — she had no chance.
So this merry band of misfits must be making G-Unit (George W. Bush and crew) shake in the shoes they stand in. So, as a supreme journalist I’ve been able to uncover the smear blueprint Republicans have been compiling for the past two years.
It won’t be easy for whomever makes it out of the Democratic Royal Rumble, but someone will get to take their shots at Hillbilly Vanilli in November.
DEAN — Aug. 22. Have President Bush drive to Dean’s Vermont home in his favorite pick-up truck (Note: make sure it’s the one with the confederate flag in the window.) Upon arrival leave paper bag full of presidential dog “Spot’s” crap on doorstep. Light on fire, ring doorbell, run. (Note: don’t forget to run).
Sept. 12. In first presidential debate, when asked what would be done with declining economy, say “well I have a brother. What about you Mr. Dean? You seemed to have Laos-ed your brother.” That really oughta piss him off and show his bad temper.
Nov. 2. Election Day. Congratulate Dean on campaign well fought. Make sure to mention that he would have had a better chance as Hillary Clinton.
KERRY — Aug. 28. In monthly check to Fox News, write in “memo” section “refer to Kerry as Junior Senator from Assachusetts.” Gold!
Nov. 1. Stage publicity “goodwill” stunt with Kerry on the night before election at favorite D.C. area Piggly Wiggly. When camera zooms in during Kerry speech, pull his mask off to reveal “wife” Teresa Heinz Kerry as the person behind the whole thing. Then yell, “Hey Theresa, good luck ‘ketching-up’ with me now.”
LIEBERMAN — Sept. 24. Invite Lieberman to White House for official Yom Kippur reception. When media is looking wish him a “Happy Home Depot.” When he says “what?” Yell, “Ha, you were faking the whole time!”
Oct. 31. Dress Dick Cheney up as Al Gore for Halloween. Send him to “Trick or Treat” at Lieberman estate in Connecticut. After Lieberman murders Cheney, you’re all set.
CLARK — Aug. 4. It’s a slam-dunk after you leak Clark’s credit card bill to showing more than $400,000 in purchased turtlenecks.
GEPHARDT — Oct. 14. Begin pro-Gephardt commercials on television and radio. Slogan “GetFart in 2004: who smells victory?”
Oct. 15: Voting public completely quits on Gephardt campaign after you focus all “GetFart 2004” campaign on Internet. Incessant pop-up ads will drive Democrats to mass Hari-Kari.
SHARPTON –Sept. 12. This will be hard. He’s way smart. But we hold the trump card. It will be revealed that Sharpton was really “Buckwheat” from Little Rascals until falling into shady life of being pimp for she-males in Huntington, W.Va. in the 1960s then becoming personal ham sandwich preparer for “Mama” Cass Elliot. Ugly past should do him in. (Note: Don’t accuse of cocaine abuse. You can’t make everything disappear by snorting it.)
Oh mama! Can this really be the end? Are the Dems to be stuck inside hopeless with the Clinton Blues again?
— Zach Hosseini can be reached at [email protected].
