John McCain on the Palin selection

Sen. John McCain really enjoys posting here, and, uhhhhh, we're very glad to have him. That's why I "invited" him to come back today to talk about his running mate, Sarah Palin. Please be courteous in the comments. You don't want to make him angry. Jesus, no. Please don't make him angry.

--Gen. JC Christian, patriot

Thank you for letting Lieberman type my words on your electric typing intertubes pamphlet machine thing, again. I like it. I like it so much, I'm now using the electric correspondence thing too. It's incredible. I've made a lot of new Nigerian friends and everyone wants to sell me boner pills.

OK, I want to talk about how I chose my running mate, Sarah Palin. It's a funny story. People tell me I should tell funny stories so I don't seem so creepy.

Palin wasn't on my short list, so the pick was kind of a surprise for everyone, including me. I was all set to choose Steve Vest, the cable industry's lobbyist. He got me Matlock for my campaign plane.

So about an hour or two before the announcement, I'm up in my hotel room watching Matlock while Lieberman does his daily hygiene maintenance thing on me. It was painful as hell. Joe was pissed because I hadn't picked him and was getting his revenge by using a very gritty sandpaper.

But you're over it now, Joe, you god damned ass-licking toady, aren't you? Or don't you want to be the ambassador to Jerusalem or Pakistan or whatever the fuck that place is called?

Well type it. Type "yes" you butt kissing fuck. And tell the General's readers you're sorry for getting me off on a tangent. And type everything I say. Last time, you left out the part when I called you "a droopy dog cocksucker."

[Yes, Senator McCain.
I'm very sorry.
-Joe]

Stupid bastard doesn't realize I didn't have sandpaper for the five and a half years I was in Hanoi. I had to use a rat, instead. I called him Kissinger. Sometimes he'd tell me to do very bad things. Still does.

OK. Where was I? Oh yeah, I'm there in my hotel room with Joe and an aide comes in and hands me an envelope. "This is from Dobson," he says, "you should look at it right away."

I open it, and there's a photo in it. It's Palin, and wow, she's what the kids call a "sweet dame." So I turn to Joe and say, "God damn. Look at this. I want her!" That sent my aide running out of the room. I didn't think anything of it at the time. My aides are always running out of the rooms I'm in.

So, now it's a couple of hours later. I'm at the announcement venue and she's there. I'm thinking, "OK. She's a governor. She's here to support me." I begin reading my teleprompter, and just after I say her name I suddenly realize I had just announced her as my running mate.

So now I'm stuck with her. And frankly, she worries me. She has a history of going after anyone who stands in her way. What if she comes after me?

I'm 72 and not in the best of health. I should be thinking about retirement, but I'm owed the Presidency. It's mine, and the war with Iran will be mine too, God dammit. I don't care how popular she is. She's not going to Cheney me.

What the f-word are you telling these people, John?

Uhhh, nothing Gov. Palin. I was just telling them about your international experience-how you successfully negotiated a sweater deal at Shannon Airport during a refueling stop in Ireland.

Bullcrap you crusty old geezer. I heard you. You will not undermine me like that again or I will gut you like a moose and hang your head on a wall in Todd's snowmachine shed. Do you have understand me?

Answer me damn it!

Yes.

Yes what?

Yes, Gov. Palin.

Did you get that carton of cigarettes I sent over?

Yes, Gov. Palin.

Why aren't you smoking them? It'll be good for your image as a maverick. I want to see a smoke in your mouth every time I look at you.

Yes. Gov. Palin.

OK, I've got to go. Charlie Gibson wants me to hold a bunny in my arms during my interview with him. Brilliant idea. He's learning. But that means I have to practice. It isn't easy. I keep snapping their cuddly little necks--seven so far. I just can't resist it. You're done here. Apologize to the General's readers for being such a freaking prick. Then, start smoking.

I'm very sorry, General's readers. I have to go now.

And, Joe, you make sure you get all this down. You want to be National Security Adviser don't you, you freaking suck up? Well then do what I say.