Get short, timely messages from Rahm Emanuel.

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  1. And now all I can hear is that music, and suddenly everything just fucking...
  2. 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.
  3. Quaxelrod flies over, and dips his little head, touching my fading shoe. Hambone just curls softly between my invisible legs.
  4. 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."
  5. And that song's still playing from the car radio, on a never-fucking ending loop from hell.
  6. And I can see myself starting to fade out, and I hear Axelrod whispering the fucking Kaddish quietly to himself, tears streaming.
  7. And then the sky fucking opens up on us, and there's chunks of ice flying down. And it's pretty clear that the party's over.
  9. And we've pulled the Civic over, turned up "Separate Ways," and we're fucking dancing out here on the motherfucking streets!
  10. We're driving down Elston when, all of a fucking sudden Axelrod's radio starts working. It's playing that fucking Journey song!
  11. Picked up Carl the Intern at Lane Tech, after his mathletes practice. Carl's first words: "There's not much time left." Motherfuck.
  12. 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.
  13. Tossing bread to Quaxelrod under the Cortland street bridge. The view from here is motherfucking incredible.
  14. Driving around in Axelrod's Civic, doing loops around the block outside Chico's offices, my ass hanging out of the missing window, laughing.
  15. Watching Axelrod eat at Manny's is like watching Da Vinci paint the motherfucking Mona Lisa: a work of art.
  16. And we sit down and plan out one last, perfect, day: Lunch at Manny's, mooning Chico, tossing fucking bread to Quaxelrod.
  17. 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."
  18. "There must be something we can do..." But there's not. Only things that fucking suck never end: look at laundry, or dishes.
  19. Axelrod looks up, tears filling his eyes and says, simply, "don't go." Fucking time portals are a son of a bitch.
  20. 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.
  21. They'd better have coffee in the parallel fucking dimension I'm descending into tonight, or I'm breaking right back out.
  22. Motherfucking coffee, I'm going to drink you like there's no goddamn tomorrow.
  23. This party's going to go all fucking night. Fuck you, tomorrow, you're just gonna have to wait.
  24. @michellemalkin Just so we're perfectly fucking clear here: You're a crazy fucking shitwad. Enjoy your night.
  25. And I dive into the crowd, and their hands hold me up, and together we are fucking one.
  26. "But tomorrow is tomorrow, and TONIGHT'S A FUCKING PARTY. LET'S GO CHICAGO!"
  27. "And sure, to save the fucking world I have to disappear into a time vortex tomorrow. But being mayor is about making hard decisions."
  28. "Through everything-- through assholes, through cockholes--I've had two things: The people of Chicago, and my fucking friends."
  29. "I've held the motherfucking pulsating heart of Chicago in my hands, and I know that it beats true."
  30. "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.
  31. "I've learned that this is Chicago and that CHICAGO DOESN'T FUCKING QUIT, NOT FUCKING EVER."
  32. "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."
  33. "The motherfuckers that contested my residency, you've got some great days ahead of you, I fucking promise you that."
  34. "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."
  35. Quaxelrod soars down from the balcony and lands gently on my shoulder. I stroke his downy fucking feathers and begin.
  36. Turns out crowdsurfing your way up to a stage takes a long fucking time. OK, victory speech--let's fucking do this.
  38. Fuck the fucking champagne slide, I'm just going to jump out of this fucking window and bodysurf to the fucking stage.
  39. Axelrod and I are double-fisting beers right now, smashing the empties on our foreheads. IT FEELS FUCKING GREAT TO BE ALIVE.
  40. Elected mayor tonight. Sucked into a time vortex tomorrow. Might as well KICK THIS PARTY OFF RIGHT FUCKING NOW.
  41. 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."
  42. Just think about how much fucking more incredible this would feel if the Bears had won the Superbowl too.
  43. If you have a giant fucking pile of money and a bunch of dumb fucks running against you, DREAMS DO COME TRUE.
  44. Hey Halpin, I'll give you until the end of the fucking night to start packing.
  46. Quaxelrod's already taking motherfucking a fucking victory flap around the rafters of the ballroom.
  47. Ari's on the mic bringing the fucking noise downstairs. Mainly just bitching out the caterers.
  48. The big plan for tonight: We've got a champaign fountain from the top of the ballroom to the stage. I'm going to fucking ride down it.
  49. These motherfucking robotic vote counting machines are kind of fucking incredible, aren't they?
  51. The party is kicking the fuck off in the ballroom below. And I'm fucking seven beers in up here.
  53. Axelrod's in with the early results: 51 motherfucking percent. Still a long night, but SUCK ON THAT, CHICO.
  54. Jesus fucking christ. Time to start fucking drinking. Axelrod--beer me!
  55. 7:00. Here goes motherfucking nothing.
  56. Time to head in to start watching results. I'm wearing a single glove over my invisible hand, motherfucking MJ style.
  57. 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.
  58. Axelrod and Hambone are standing outside the Civic, Hambone's taking a shit, Axelrod's checking exit polls. There's a fucking metaphor.
  59. Carl and the InternCorps are on balloon duty at the party space. Ari's over there too, rearranging fucking everything. Again.
  60. Sitting in the backseat of Axelrod's Civic practicing these fucking speeches. Quaxelrod's giving notes. So far, he's unimpressed.
  61. @TheFix Ran the idea past Carl the Intern. He says it would destroy the entire space/time continuum. Great fucking thinking, Einstein.
  62. 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.
  64. 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.
  65. Fifteen motherfucking Get Out The Vote rallys and it's barely even noon. Might have to hold a Get Out The Nap rally later.
  66. Anyone that isn't voting today because of the snow is a motherfucking asshole. Or an invalid--OK, you've got a good excuse.
  67. @alexismadrigal I have a motherfucking election to win, and possibly a time vortex to dissolve into. You think I have fucking time to reply?
  68. Axelrod's right. Whatever the motherfucking outcome, we've got a fucking election to win. LET'S DO THIS.
  69. "I don't know nothing about infinite fucking Chicagos," Axelrod says. "I only know this one. And polls have been open for an hour."
  70. And when he says it, Quaxelroad lets out the saddest fucking quack-moan you've ever heard a duck make.
  71. Carl the Intern's filled an entire fucking chalkboard with equations by the time I'm done talking. "Daley's right," is all he says.
  72. @ShiaKapos Yeah, well don't believe everything you read in the fucking newspaper.
  73. I'm drinking coffee and explaining everything that happened last night. Axelrod looks so surprised his fucking mustache might fall off.
  74. HOLY FUCK, if there's any fucking day in the world that I need coffee, it is this fucking day.
  75. And, before I can try to figure out what the fuck Daley's on about, the bag is back on my head, and everything goes black.
  76. "Which means," and he looks at me now there are fucking tears on his face, "that one of you won't survive this election."
  77. And Daley looks at me deadly fucking serious and says, "Which means there are two of you here, in this world, in this time."
  78. Except. Except something feels fucking wrong. "You notice it too," says Daley. "There's one you missing."
  79. And I look and... and it's Chicago--again and again. And tiny, in the corner, peering up at me, is... me. Thousands. Millions.
  80. "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.
  81. 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.
  82. "The mayor doesn't just run Chicago," Daley says, walking over to the grill. "You need to understand what's really at stake here."
  83. There's a whirring sound and then, up from the center of the dome rises an oversized charcoal grill. What the fuck?
  84. "There's something else." Daley breaks the silence, his voice cracking just a fucking little. He flips a switch on the wall.
  85. "It blooms year-round, thanks to them," he says quietly. And we're just looking, standing, breathing the thick moist air. Together.
  86. I search the ground for three small pebbles. Daley's fucking silent while I place one on each of the gravestones.
  87. Daley points to the headstones. "They're here with us, always. Harrison, Washington, Dad." He chokes up on that last one.
  88. And it's then that I notice for the first fucking time that, nestled amid the stalks of celery are three modest headstones.
  89. 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.
  90. Daley fucking plucks a stalk. "Care for these. Let flowers bloom. Dry them. Harvest the seeds. Grind them. Mix with salt."
  91. It's so warm and beautiful in the dome--green everywhere--and the air is pungent with the smell of... is that fucking celery?
  92. 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.
  93. And Daley's gesturing for me to follow him, and suddenly we're out a window and heading up a motherfucking fire escape.
  94. 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."
  95. "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.
  96. "And Magdalena, she cleans up on alternating nights. If you have shit you don't want thrown out, make sure you put it away."
  97. "So the toilet, just down the hall, you need to jiggle the handle after you flush." Daley's not really making eye contact.
  98. "Look, there are some things you need to know. " I'm here! In his office! In City fucking Hall!
  99. Daley helps me up, his hands fucking envelop my arms completely. "Sorry again, but we needed to talk tonight. Can't take chances."
  100. I pull my head up from the marble floor and there, standing above me, is the massive fucking frame of Mayor Daley.
  101. "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.
  102. I'm still blinking, and the light is grinding a migrate into being, when I hear a voice fucking boom out from above me.
  103. I'm fucking gasping when the bag comes off. We've been driving around for an hour, clearly trying to confuse me. It worked.
  104. 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.
  105. And now we're all standing outside and Axelrod's yelling "LET'S GO, ASSHOLE!" at Ari. He really loves his fucking car.
  106. "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.
  107. "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.
  108. "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.
  109. "How come every news clip I see of you, you're acting like a giant walking hernia?" He's here for two fucking days.
  110. "Nice blanket, Linus. Fix the fucking airport once your mayor, OK asshole?" Motherfucking Ari. My brother's here.
  111. 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.
  112. The snow's delayed Ari's plane for a couple hours. Probably best if it were delayed until motherfucking Wednesday.
  113. 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.
  114. Fuck you, snow. Nobody fucking wants you here. Go the fuck away.
  115. 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?
  116. 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?
  117. Carl the Intern and Axelrod are directing the InterCorps from "the command center"--a laptop and a map in the backseat of the fucking Civic.
  118. When I run for reelection, I'm having a motherfucking hand-shaking robot built.
  119. Let's just keep the motherfucking coffee coming, non-fucking stop.
  120. 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.
  121. Fucking shit fuck. Motherfucking overslept on the last fucking full day of campaigning.
  122. Floating in my basement, watching TV with friends, drinking cold beer, 34 hours before polls open: fucking living the dream.
  123. Also: We've got our beer down under the floodwater, and Quaxelrod dives down when we need new cans. Ice fucking cold.
  124. I mean, yeah, all those people are fucked, but they're going to fucking go down fighting. Also important: Martin Lawrence is hilarious.
  125. And maybe it's the fucking beer talking, but I see those shots from inside the fucking rotunda, and I just get weepy.
  126. We're just bobbing around in this flooded crawlspace flipping between repeats of Martin and news from motherfucking Wisconsin.
  127. @paulgamboa who fucking died and made you the Home Depot?
  128. Duck-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
  129. @lynnsweet You don't want to mess with the black swan, bitch.
  130. @lynnsweet Fuck that shit. Dance-off or nothing, Lynn--you first.
  131. Now let's go dump some fucking Chico signs in potholes brimming with dogshit-infused rainwater runoff.
  132. 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.
  133. 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.
  135. 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.
  136. Now everyone's fucking cheering--Jesse White, the Tumblers, the people eating--and one of the Tumblers calls out, "The runway's all yours!"
  137. The Tumblers are fucking amazing, flying right over the people eating. Each flip brings them closer to the ceiling. Beautiful!
  138. It's too wet to tumble outside, so the Tumblers have set up their mats and springboard here in the motherfucking restaurant. Yes!
  139. Lunch with the Jesse White Tumblers. This gray fucking day just got a whole lot brighter.
  140. Lynn Sweet thinks she's being cute publishing that old photo of me in a leotard. MOTHERFUCKING DANCE OFF, LYNN. LET'S GO.
  141. Quaxelrod's fucking loving it though, bobbing his way around all the board games and action figures floating around down there.
  142. Spent the morning bailing out the crawlspace. Our sleeping bags are fucking soaked. Just fucking perfect.
  143. Holy shit, the crawlspace is flooding! MOTHERFUCK YOU RAIN!
  144. 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."
  145. Carl the Intern has been training a legion of volunteers this week. Chicago, prepare to get motherfucking hang tagged.
  146. Coffee! You are motherfucking wonderful! Let me carry you gently in my goddamn belly!
  147. @Dornando If I had the energy to lift this box, I could assure you that you're fucking wrong, you dumb fuck.
  148. Jesus fucking Christ, Samoa crash. I can't even fucking move.
  149. Girl Scouts on Cottage Grove! I am going to fuck up this box of Samoas!
  150. Motherfucking canoe races in Washington Park. Quaxelrod is smoking everyone's ass.
  151. This city is at its absolute ugliest when the snow melts. Fucking drifts of weeks-old Cheeto bags and Snickers wrappers.
  152. 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.
  153. OK, you sunny, chilly Saturday, prepare to get fucked.
  154. Hey Boehner--fuck you, you stupid orange fuck.
  155. I am the motherfucking donut king this morning.
  157. @LakeviewGreg why on gods motherfucking green earth would I follow any of you assholes?
  158. 5:00! Motherfucking Friday fucking night starts right goddamn now.
  159. 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.
  160. Axelrod shot down my plan: Greet voters in a little booth under the Bean, because shit looks fucking CRAZY down there.
  161. 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.
  162. Holy fuck, by the end of this weekend my shaking hand might just fall clean off.
  163. Up all night last night and this coffee is not fucking helping at all. Five more days of this motherfucking campaign.
  164. Choking down coffee in a Mobil station on the way back from Rockford. It's like drinking motherfucking rotgut.
  165. Waterslides, Feingold, beer brats, whiskey, and some motherfucking crazy-ass Wisconsin Senators. I FUCKING LOVE MY LIFE.
  166. Axelrod fucking owns this waterslide. He's fucking up there, calling out types of cheeses, and sending senators flying down. "Fontina!"
  167. Feingold just showed up with a case of whiskey and a couple of pool noodles. This motherfucking party's going all night.
  168. Hey Wisconsin, fuck you for winning the Superbowl, but your motherfucking Senators are bad-ass.
  169. Holy shit, Rockford sucks. But these Wisconsin Dems are fucking awesome. Beer bongs and waterslides, bitches.
  170. Axelrod and I just loaded the Civic up with beer. We're heading out to Rockford to fucking party with the exiled Wisconsin Democrats.
  171. Ron Majors, motherfucking beer me.
  173. Of all the debates I've been to, I think that Ron Majors, Captain Boring, and Fake Arianna Huffington are doing a pretty fucking good job.
  174. If a casino actually ends up in Chicago, I swear to god, I'll never see Axelrod again. Slot fucking jockey.
  175. I want to hire Del Valle to read me bedtime stories. He opens his mouth and a motherfucking Therm-a-rest mattress comes out.
  176. 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.
  177. Oh good, we've reached the "everyone shit on Rahm" part of the debate. It's cool, I'll go get my motherfucking raincoat.
  178. I'm working on a sudoku when the camera's off me, and Jesus fucking Christ, it's making me fucking nuts.
  179. I am still 100 percent fucking positive that this debate would be way fucking better if we were using muppets.
  180. Hambone is still fucking pissed at me for the dog grooming tax. He's been getting extra walks to make up for it.
  181. She might be completely motherfucking crazy, but Braun's new haircut is fierce.
  182. OK, bitches. Let's debate this shit. This shit is so fucking ON.
  183. Wait a second--Del Valle has a motherfucking ventriloquist's dummy... nobody told me there was a fucking talent portion!
  184. I'm walking around backstage just headfaking the fuck out of everyone.
  185. Also, it's fucking disappointing that the League of Women Voters aren't going to let us come in with pyro and entrance music. What the fuck.
  186. Who thought inviting 2000 people to this last debate was a good idea? Might as well have built the fucking Thunderdome.
  187. Jesus fucking Christ, it's fucking nuts with puddles out here.
  188. Holy shit, have you been outside yet? It's fucking warm! Let's do the debate outside, pool-party style.
  189. Debate prep: If someone wheels in that Jeopardy-playing computer, I've got a motherfucking hammer at the ready.
  190. Debate prep: If we end up in a dance-off, those other motherfuckers are fucking done. Black Swan, bitches!
  191. 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.
  192. 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.
  193. Debate prep: If I'm challenged to a motherfucking duel, do it with swords not pistols.
  194. Debate prep: How to deflect all oncoming assaults from other candidates, up to and including being set on fire. Stop, drop and fucking roll.
  195. Axelrod thought that sounded like a good idea, and just took a swing at me. So I'll be the candidate on stage with a shiner.
  196. 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.
  197. An entire morning of prepping for an ass fucking of a debate. Every candidate's last chance to get a shot in. Fuck me.
  198. All day prep for the final debate tonight on a hangover from hell. Someone keep the coffee motherfucking coming.
  199. Today coffee is a steaming cup of fucking awesome.
  200. 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.
  201. 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?"
  202. And I can't even ask "who" before he he says, "You have to go, man. You have to go right now." And I can feel myself being pulled away...
  203. And he stops dancing and looks right at me and says, so quietly it's almost fucking inaudible, "He's looking for you."
  204. And then Curtis leans in really fucking close and, in a whisper, he says, "There's something else you should know, man."
  205. 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.
  206. 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."
  207. "Chicago is hurting. I can feel it," and he opens his suit and inside is no body, but the motherfucking skyline itself.
  208. "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
  209. "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.
  210. "You've got 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.
  211. 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."
  212. 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.
  213. 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.
  214. 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.
  215. 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.
  216. 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.
  217. 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.
  218. "Look, there's something you need to know, about you. About this..." but my eyes are fucking blurred, and I can feel myself falling.
  219. "We don't have much time," Siskel's yanking me backwards now, and my chest feels fucking hollow as he does it.
  220. And now Siskel is trying to pull me away with his giant fucking thumbs, but I want to stay holding this glowing heart forever.
  221. I'm hugging the glowing fucking heart of Studs Turkel, and it's wet and it's bright, and I can feel all of you beat inside it.
  222. "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
  223. He's floating just slightly above the ground, but Siskel speaks with fucking gravity: "Studs' heart beats for all Chicagoans."
  224. Gene Siskel's smile compete's with the light of Studs' heart. His thumbs are fucking enormous.
  225. A figure walks in front of the heart, its bright light still filtering through his translucent form. "Thumbs up, my friend." Siskel!
  226. I've climbed up to anther landing. Up here, the motherfucking heart of Studs Turkel is shining like a fucking beacon.
  227. It's motherfucking beautiful up here, the sun making this tower of junk glow with the righteous power of millions of saved parking spaces.
  228. We're up above the clouds now. Looking down is just a sea of pink fluff. Actually, it looks motherfucking delicious.
  229. ..CK. I blacked out there. My motherfucking head is pounding. There's that fucking bunny again, climbing ever upward. Here we go.
  231. 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."
  232. "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.
  233. "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.
  234. "The river, it used to bubble with poison. It killed scores. My friends and I, we reversed it." I'm getting fucking dizzy.
  235. "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.
  236. Field's fucking luminescent mouth opens and he speaks: "If you want to run this city, there's some things you need to know."
  237. You know what? Field may be a motherfucking disembodied head, but he still looks fucking classy. Dapper tie dangling down.
  238. I've reached a landing, though the tower still fucking rises above. A door opens, and the disembodied head of Marshall Field floats out.
  239. 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.
  240. 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.
  241. I turn and say, "I don't know what to do," but Sweetness is already gone, the dulcet tones of the Superbowl Shuffle all that's fucking left.
  242. 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."
  243. We've reached a clearing, and Sweetness turns and says, "We're here." It's a huge motherfucking tower made out of dibs chairs.
  244. 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.
  245. I have the distinct fucking feeling that this is going to be a long motherfucking day.
  246. Definitely Sweetness. He ran by again, this time with the Pat the Bunny bunny on his back. The fucking bunny turned and said "follow me."
  247. Someone just ran by me in this wheat field. He was running fucking fast. All I saw was the number 34. Sweetness?
  248. I remember packing this box, and don't remember fitting and entire field of fucking wheat in here. But that's what I'm standing in.
  249. OK, nobody fucking panic, but this box is definitely getting fucking bigger.
  250. Ate it. And holy fucking fuck, I swear to god the bunny on the cover of that book just winked at me.
  251. I am so motherfucking hungry that I might eat this motherfucking jar of fermented baby food I found.
  252. 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.
  253. 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.
  254. 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.
  255. Fell asleep inside this box. Have the worst fucking crick in my back and can't really move. Uh, Axelrod? Carl? Hambone? Quaxelrod? Anyone?
  256. Which, admittedly, might be kind of soon because I think I just heard Axelrod pop a fucking beer.
  257. Fuck it: HIDE AND SEEK, MOTHERFUCKERS. I'll get out of this goddamn box of baby clothes when I'm motherfucking ready.
  258. So you fucking play the game the way it's played, right? Isn't that the whole motherfucking point of hide n seek: to not be found?
  259. So really, what the fuck was the point of getting in this goddamn box in the first place? Oh right: because it's a motherfucking game.
  261. But here's the thing: I could stay in this box all fucking night, and you know who I am at the end it? An asshole in a box.
  262. There's a couple 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.
  263. I can hear them calling my name out there, but fuck it. I can lie stiller than the fucking lake on a windless night.
  264. Hide-n-seek in the crawlspace. I am stuffed so far into this fucking box of baby clothes that nobody is every going to find me.
  265. Ward 41 came through with a motherfucking gin jacuzzi. Haven't sat in one of these since Thanksgiving at Ari's.
  266. The next motherfucking ward I visit had better have a fucking swimming pool filled with whiskey.
  267. Ward 39 made a motherfucking mashed potato Sears Tower. It even has working elevators. Fucking incredible!
  268. I swear to fucking god, I will donate $2500 to the charity of your choice if you can come and fix this motherfucking radio.
  269. Driving around these wards would be a whole lot fucking less boring if the goddamn radio in Axelrod's Civic wasn't busted.
  270. Thanks, 29th Ward, for fixing our muffler! Too bad the 31st Ward just smoked your fucking ass with a block-long banana split.
  271. Holy fuck, we're dragging that muffler down the motherfucking street, aren't we? I see fucking sparks out the back window.
  272. Holy fuck: the 28th Ward stole all the remaining snow from the 24th and build a huge luge run! LUGE MOTHERFUCKERS, LUGE!
  273. Bumper boats in the 24th ward. You're in the motherfucking drink, Axelrod!
  274. Hot air balloon in the 22nd ward. I can see motherfucking Joliet from up here!
  275. @wbezacuddy I've got eight hundred and forty-eight motherfucking reasons why that isn't going to happen.
  276. 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.
  277. Word has it 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!
  278. Holy shit, Ward 26--a human-sized Italian Beef. I'm getting motherfucking dipped!
  279. It's no baby goats, but the 42nd Ward had a pretty good comeback: They're all giving me piggy back rides. Fucking amazing!
  280. MOTHERFUCKING BABY GOAT ALERT. Holy fuck, it's so goddamn cute it hurts.
  281. Jackpot: petting zoo in the 43rd Ward! You are so fucking fucked, 34th.
  282. 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.
  283. That's it, it's time for a Ward-off. 44 surrounded me with adorable children. The fuck you got, 36?
  284. 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.
  285. Quaxelrod's giving me fucking grief about the lack of ponds in every ward. There's a motherfucking lake--appreciate that.
  286. Another upside: Can really flesh out my "Wards that are pieces of shit" list.
  287. Upside of this fucking 50 Wards concept: Pretty much every goddamn stop is a coffee shop. 50 motherfucking cups, let's go.
  288. 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.
  289. I just visited my hundredth motherfucking El stop. One fucking week more of this shit and then all the pain goes away.
  290. 50 Wards, 50 hours. Whoever the fuck thought of this is most definitely going on the cock-punch list.
  291. Motherfucking coffee, you're all I fucking need today.
  292. Sufficiently drunk to move on to the highlight of my Valentines' night: Throwing chunks of slush into the fucking lake.
  293. Drinking the Carol Marin: bourbon, lemon syrup, bitters, sparkling wine. Delicious, and it'll kick your fucking ass.
  294. Fucking goddamn done with that bullshit. VALENTINES NIGHT COMMENCE.
  295. Personally, I was hoping we could talk a little more about motherfucking musical theater. Spamalot, bitches.
  296. You know what's pathetic? That 70% of this debate is about corruption. Motherfucking Chicago, you're a hard fucking city to love sometimes.
  297. I hope Jody Weiss isn't doing his normal Monday-night drinking game on his name, because he's fucking gone by now.
  298. Motherfucking motherfuck, that question had nothing to do with motherfucking bread crumbs. My ass hurts.
  299. So far Quaxelrod's prep questions were spot-fucking on. My "gotcha" should be about bread crumbs in the parks. Fucking ready.
  300. Basic debate strategy: Sit back and let everyone else motherfucking destroy each other. Chico Tea Party endorsement, go!
  301. Braun's zombie smile is fucking incredible. When I'm mayor, I'm appointing her to the committee of motherfucking crazy smiles.
  302. Next debate, we should do this shit with motherfucking muppets. Del Valle would look incredible.
  303. OK, Carol Marin, let's motherfucking debate this shit.
  304. Fuck this, I'm prepped. How hard can it be: schools, budget, cops, how fucking crazy Braun is. Done, done, done, and done.
  305. Quaxelrod is clearly angling for a news anchor gig, with all his feathered fucking showboating on these debate prep questions.
  306. To be honest, the duck is kicking all of our asses with these fucking questions.
  307. Debate prep: Axelrod's Chico, Carl the Intern in my wife's wedding dress is Braun, Hambone is Del Valle. Quaxelrod? Carol fucking Marin.
  308. I keep starting a card for Del Valle, and then I get about eight percent done and wonder why I'm even fucking bothering.
  309. Valentine for Chico: On the front is a kitty holding a paper heart. Inside it says, "Let's go, asshole. Fuck you, Rahm."
  310. Couldn't find the flowers for Braun. Settled for a box of in-two-weeks-everyone's-going-to-fucking-forget-about-you-again.
  311. There's a motherfucking debate on Valentines Day? How fucking romantic.
  312. I'm trying to track down a bouquet of nobody-gives-a-fuck for Braun. Fuck me if the florists aren't going to be swamped.
  313. Axelrod's fucking into the blood-coffee "It's like I'm Edward."
  314. Carl the Intern's Valentine's surprise was to dye the coffee red. It looks like we're fucking drinking blood.
  315. 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?
  316. 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.
  317. Our Grammy party got ruined when we remembered that the Grammys are motherfucking awful.
  318. Fuck you, sun! Don't fucking set on us, you fucking gas-bastard.
  319. Margaritas son jodidamente increíble cierto ahora.
  320. Quaxelrod is soaring around this beautiful blue fucking sky. He's as free as a bird now.
  321. We pulled a Slip n Slide up from the crawlspace. Wet and wild, motherfuckers! Best fucking day ever.
  322. We are grilling every motherfucking thing we can get our hands on. Come over, it's fucking awesome.
  323. Seriously, if you're not outside right now, you're clearly a fucking asshole.
  324. It's absolutely fucking incredible outside. Axelrod's busted out the Speedo, and we're all motherfucking jealous.
  325. We're fucking surfing the remains of the igloo. You served us well, our cold, snowy friend.
  326. HOLY FUCK: We have achieved near-total structural failure of this motherfucking igloo. Abandon goddamn ship.
  327. I ate a fucked-up chicken salad sandwich today, and I've been dealing with my own personal mayoral runoff ever since.
  328. Huh. This whole "living in an igloo" thing is about to get super fucking wet, isn't it?
  330. 29 degrees now? This bitch breaks above freezing, and we're hitting the fucking beach.
  331. Summer loving: We're grilling the fucking coffee this morning. Hickory motherfucking smoked.
  332. 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 El.
  333. 28 degrees? HOLY FUCK, IT'S SUMMERTIME.
  334. 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.
  335. Axelrod just stood up, poured a little out for dead homies, and started singing "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." A-fucking-mazing.
  336. Penny's going solo on Cee Lo's "Fuck You," and she's amazing. Take that, Gwyneth--you fucking ruined Glee forever.
  337. Quaxelrod is quacking his way through motherfucking "No Sleep 'Till Brooklyn." Honestly, the verses are tripping him up a little.
  338. This whole fucking world can lick "MY, MY, MY SERPENTINE!"
  339. 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.
  340. "YOU'RE IN THE MOTHERFUCKING JUNGLE, BABY!" And let me tell you, at that point on this igloo is on fucking fire.
  341. 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??"
  342. Axelrod. Pritzker. "Islands in the Stream." That is what they motherfucking are.
  343. Carl the Intern is absolutely fucking killing it on "Tiny Dancer." He said it was for someone special. I wonder who that is?
  344. Axelrod shotgunned a beer and launched right into "Hot Blooded." Motherfucking karaoke night rules.
  345. Karaoke in the igloo tonight. Shit's gonna get fucking nuts. Penny Pritzker's bringing her golden karaoke machine.
  346. Snow stopped, week's done, MOTHERFUCKING BEER O'CLOCK, BITCHES.
  347. Problem is, I'm not entirely sure you can build an airplane out of the shit in my motherfucking crawlspace. FUCK YOU, INACCESSIBLE CLOUDS.
  348. 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.
  349. Oh my fucking god, it is not goddamn snowing again, is it?
  350. @juggernautco He's a good puppy. I knew he left it there. Just be glad I didn't light it on fucking fire first.
  351. @adrianholovaty thanks for hosting, and for promising that nerd isn't motherfucking contagious. Still going to for a second opinion.
  352. I'm geolocating my ass out of this fucking place. Here's to a motherfucking geek-free weekend.
  353. Carl the Intern is trying to explain it to me, but if he says "geo"-anything one more fucking time, I'm walking out.
  354. If someone could actually tell me what this motherfucking company actually does, that'd be a big fucking help. Everywhat?
  355. 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.
  356. 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.
  357. Hambone brought in today's itinerary: Some motherfucking map company. Great. More fucking nerds.
  358. Axelrod's doing TV this morning, which is a bummer because he was going to help fortify the igloo for the coming melt. Fuck.
  359. So now we have to endure Chico strutting around like a motherfucking peacock because he's only losing by 30 points, huh?
  360. Dear coffee, you are the motherfucking greatest of all of mankind's inventions.
  361. End of a stupid fucking debate means it's time to get stupid fucking drunk.
  362. You know what? Quaxelrod was right: Everyone in this race is motherfucking crazy.
  363. Where have I been scared in this city? HOLY FUCK THIS IS THE DUMBEST FUCKING DEBATE EVER.
  364. 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.
  365. Holy fuck, we're saved: invest in nanotech and hardware stores. Can I just walk out? Is that allowed?
  367. Wait a second: What the fuck is a nanotechnology again? Just really small shit?
  368. I swear to fucking god, there are more people asking questions than answering them in this debate.
  369. You know what this day needs? A motherfucking debate. Here we go.
  370. Made it back to the igloo. Eric Schmidt and his fucking Google Goons finally wheeled away when they realized they were missing Stargate SG1.
  371. You know, shit like this never happened back when I was a fucking dancer.
  372. Hiding out under the LaSalle bridge. We can hear the fucking Google Segways overhead, but figure they'll run out of batteries eventually.
  373. Running. Holy fuck, we're running. And we're being pursued by 300 fucking geeks. Geeks with motherfucking swords.
  374. 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.
  375. 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.
  376. 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
  377. Holy fuck. You don't quite understand pain until you've been knocked on your ass by a nerd on a Segway.
  378. 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.
  379. Schmidt wheels right up to my fucking face and says, "I know what you're thinking: Maybe I should have taken the blue pill."
  380. I might have to do a motherfucking Bing search to figure out a way out of here.
  381. Eric Schmidt just wheeled in on his Segway, and is circling me, tossing fucking headfakes.
  382. Well this is the first talk I've ever given where half of the audience is on motherfucking Segways.
  383. 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.
  385. I need a break from all this hobbiton, time-travel, multiverse bullshit. Where's my fucking New York Times?
  386. Carl just spent 15 minutes trying to explain what a "multiverse" is. You mean there're other me's? My head fucking hurts.
  387. 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"?
  388. 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.
  389. 3.14159265... great, now this bullshit is stuck in my motherfucking head too.
  390. Carl the Intern is beside himself with excitement though. He's been reciting the digits in motherfucking pi for an hour now.
  391. That said, I may need a chalice of motherfucking mead to help me deal with these geeks.
  392. 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.
  393. Nope, screaming didn't help one fucking bit. Going to end up washing that debate down with a pint of motherfucking whiskey.
  394. Forum and debate complete. Now it's time to lock myself in a bathroom and scream for about ninety motherfucking minutes.
  395. The only thing getting me through this bullfuck of a night is visualizing that I'm somewhere else. Somewhere warm. With a water slide.
  396. CODE FUCKING RED: Whoever scheduled me to be at both a candidate forum and a debate tonight is going on my cock-punch list.
  397. 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.
  398. Whoever thought it was a good idea to hold a fucking election in February is getting a motherfucking cock punch on the 23rd.
  399. When this fucking race is over, I swear to fucking god, I'm going on a motherfucking vacation somewhere warm.
  401. Danny Davis just showed up with a sled and a hairdryer. "I'm going to sled your damn Mt. Braun and then melt it into motherfucking nothing."
  402. Axelrod tried it, and I think he woke up half of Ravenswood screaming as he went down. "Ride of a fucking lifetime!"
  403. 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.
  404. @knash99 because it's better than living in a motherfucking crawlspace.
  405. Hambone just delivered new poll numbers. Fifty-four percent? I think I can feel my motherfucking toes again.
  406. Sweet fucking Jesus, thank you for these motherfucking coffee-sicles. They bring icy salvation.
  407. "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.
  408. Axelrod keeps checking the thermometer and announcing the temperature as it plunges. It's like we're descending into a frozen fucking hell.
  409. Burning whale blubber in the igloo tonight. It's motherfucking warm, but it smells like death.
  410. @chitownpolitics You're motherfucking kidding me, right?
  411. And then the plan is to just lead everyone in chanting "FUCK NEW YORK!" and fucking hi-five the shit out of everyone.
  412. 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."
  413. Speech preview: "So Chicago, let's stop screwing around. Let's be like the Unicorn on my T-shirt: Fucking incredible."
  414. Speech preview: "Because somehow this town has confused driving fucking cupcakes around with goddamn innovation."
  415. 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.
  416. Speech preview: "We're Chicago. Maybe--just fucking maybe--we can build something better than stupid T-shirts and half-off deals."
  417. 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.
  418. 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.
  419. 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.
  420. Axelrod fucking loves this place: "I'm voting up 715 different designs with mustaches on them."
  421. 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.
  422. Riding a Mastodon over to unveil my economic innovation plan. It's so fucking cold even the Mastodon is shivering.
  423. Before you give me shit about my whale blubber coat, I'm pretty sure I saw a Groupon ad that said it was OK.
  424. Now that these fucking blubber coats are finished, Axelrod wants to go hunt sabertooth cats, but I was thinking mastadon ride.
  425. Been carving whale blubber since Carl got back. Upsides: So motherfucking warm. Downsides: It really fucks up a suit.
  426. We've sent Carl the Intern out to harpoon a motherfucking whale so we can use the blubber to keep warm.
  427. Do yourself a favor, and don't look at the motherfucking weather report for the next few days.
  429. @BossPrez Nothing a little snow can't fix. And oh look what's falling from the sky right motherfucking now.
  430. Also, he appears to have a pretty fucking wicked concussion. Just fucking perfect.
  431. Axelrod just tried to clear the igloo too, and now we've got an Axelrod-shaped hole in the wall. Fuck.
  432. HOLY FUCK: Carl the Intern can fucking flip clear over the goddamn igloo. The Jesse White Tumblers are going fucking nuts!
  433. Best thing about being endorsed by Jesse White is getting to hang out with the fucking Tumblers. Motherfucking back flips!
  434. @meredithshiner Man, they really have you on the crack fucking assignments, don't they?
  435. Bleach burn remedy: lay down shirtless in the snow. It stings for a minute, but then you don't feel a fucking thing.
  436. 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.
  437. Working on my economic innovation plan, but really need a motherfucking mustard out of my shirt innovation plan instead.
  438. @spencerkeys Well that was the most motherfucking depressing thing I've ever read, fucking ever.
  439. Sweet motherfucking coffee, I love you more than I love myself.
  440. Ended up staying up all night rewatching Superbowl XX over and over. My entire fucking day is going to be fueled by coffee.
  442. God, XX really was the greatest game that was ever fucking played. Our matching '85 Bears sweaters are aglow.
  443. Christ, we're just watching, rewinding, and re-watching when the Fridge runs in for the motherfucking TD. Go Bears.
  444. Second fucking half of Superbowl XX. I know how it end, but I fucking cry every time. Tears of fucking joy. Go Bears.
  445. God, I fucking miss this you, Sweetness. When you ran the ball, it really was like you were making romance.
  446. Ran into Chico while picking up chicken. He said he was watching "just for the commercials," which confirmed that he's a raging douche.
  447. Picked up a bucket of chicken, and am settling into the igloo to watch a tape of the 1985 Superbowl. Go fucking Bears!
  448. @jpnussba Actually, the aquarium has really pretty shitty sharks, and "jumped the beluga" doesn't fucking sound right.
  449. Things are good here now. We're all going to head out to brunch and then get busy not watching the motherfucking Superbowl.
  450. Man, Quaxelrod really took a good chunk off Axelrod's mustache. What a great fucking duck.
  451. 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.
  452. HOLY SHIT! IT'S QUAXELROD!! That little fucking duck just swooped in and has Axelrod by the 'stache. We're saved!
  453. Jesus fucking Christ, we're all fucking crying here. He's just standing there, quivering, ready to strike. Someone tell Amy I loved her.
  454. 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.
  455. Axelrod's yelling "CORN COB PIPE"--swing--"BUTTON NOSE"--swing--"TWO EYES MADE OUT OF COAL"--swing. We are so fucked.
  456. 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.
  457. Pretty sure Axelrod thinks we're all snowmen. He keeps yelling, "Where's your magic fucking top hat, you snowy fucks?"
  458. Axelrod's gripping that shovel a little too tightly, and ranting about crystalline formations. This might not fucking end well.
  459. Axelrod's eyes are fucking wild, like Shackleton's on his last expedition.
  460. 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.
  461. Oh great, just what we need: more motherfucking, goddamn, shit-assing snow.
  462. I'm living in a motherfucking igloo, and you assholes choose a piece of shit house like number one? Fuck these fucking House Hunters.
  463. House number one? What the fuck is that bullshit?! I'd give the rest of my fucking finger stub for house number three!
  464. @jrho_jrho Fucking tell me about it. Axelrod just calls that show H&H and changes into his own brown overalls when he watches it.
  465. @jebarton There's a lot of fucking snow here. It just blends the fuck in.
  466. @Shelley723 Live tweet it? Fuck that. I'm going to savor this shit.
  467. House Hunters is on next. Axelrod is motherfucking beside himself. "Which goddamn house are they going to choose?"
  468. Carl the Intern just finished splicing into the asshole's cable, so now this motherfucking igloo gets 148 channels. HGTV, bitches.
  469. @Jen3317 Feel free to ask for you motherfucking money back.
  470. @Lionfisile You really don't fucking understand what the word "rhyme" means, do you?
  471. Shuffling my way back to the igloo now, this frozen foam voting booth is like walking around in a fucking block of wood.
  472. Holy fuck, foam-rubber costumes really stiffen up when you're out in the fucking cold all day.
  473. @KaitlinHenry I hear you. Some mornings are motherfucking funnel mornings.
  474. 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.
  475. Del Valle just arrived and is taking inflatable Chico to task for double fucking voting. Ha fucking ha.
  476. 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?
  477. Chico just showed up wearing a huge inflatable Chico costume, and he's pretending to use my foam booth to vote. Fuck.
  478. Visiting early voting centers today. If you want to stop by, I'll be the fucking guy wearing the giant foam voting booth.
  479. Coffee, bitches. The secret is motherfucking coffee.
  480. @maureenjohnson The asshole's lease is up in motherfucking May.
  481. The motherfucking party is in the motherfucking igloo tonight.
  482. Just walked the fuck out of that meeting. Fuck everything: it's Friday fucking night!
  483. More motherfucking meetings. It's cute that someone still thinks there's a race, but it's cutting into my motherfucking Friday.
  484. Chicago fucking Tribune endorsement, bitches! Think of how fucking awesome that would be if anyone fucking read a newspaper.
  485. Motherfucking meetings all afternoon. Don't people understand that it's fucking Friday?
  486. @Tuuvan I always use Scott brand toilet paper when I tell people they're full of fucking shit.
  487. @livingminimal Carl's busy drafting our motherfucking economic plan.
  488. With all this fucking snow, what are the chances of a giant fucking line at Hot Dougs today? Nobody tell Quaxelrod about the duck fat fries.
  489. Finally digging out Axelrod's Civic. Starting to regret not getting the fucking passenger-side window replaced.
  490. Motherfucking Jesus fucking Christ, coffee sure tastes absolutely fucking incredible this morning.
  491. A belly warm with whiskey, a duck and a dog sleeping soundly, and your best friend playing Jovi. Motherfucking awesome.
  492. 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..."
  493. Carl even built a little second floor--sorry, "a lofted atrium"--where Hambone and Quaxelrod can hang out. This place is fucking awesome.
  494. @honeychildpleaz Who the fuck died and made you Webster's fucking Dictionary, you stupid fucking asshole.
  495. He built a little fireplace, so we're warm in here. And we can actually stand up--major fucking benefit over the crawlspace.
  496. Carl the Intern did a incredible job on this igloo. It's got a couple little snow desks, a fridge, some fucking ice couches.
  497. 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
  498. Finally ran into another person. And it's someone driving a motherfucking cupcake truck. Fucking cupcakes.
  499. 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.
  500. Now we're walking out on the Lake. It's just one giant fucking sheet of grey fucking ice. And it's just the five of us.
  501. The Loop is fucking abandoned. We're swinging from the El tracks like they're motherfucking monkey bars.
  502. Quaxelrod fucking owns the motherfucking express lanes. Waddling like a bad-ass motherfucker.
  503. It really does feel like the end of the fucking world. We're walking down the middle of the motherfucking Dan Ryan right now.
  504. 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."
  505. Fuck it, we've all left the igloo, just playing with Hambone in the snow. Plouffe's still on speaker being unin-fucking-telligible
  506. Seriously, this is fucking Plouffe: "I .... hrm... kit... fuck... and... shit... Quaxelrod... log." How the fuck does this fucking help?
  507. Strategy session in the igloo, Plouffe's in over speakerphone. We can't understand a single motherfucking word he's saying.
  508. Motherfucking sweet fucking coffee. We're drinking it in motherfucking snow cups.
  509. Carl the Intern built an igloo, and we're all just laying around in here, fucking whiskied and exhausted. Stay fucking warm.
  510. Jesus fucking Christ, my arms fucking ache from all that fucking shoveling. Quaxelrod can barely lift his little wings.
  511. @MerrittPR For a PR flack, you're actually a terrible fucking liar, you stupid fucking fuck.
  512. Sun's out, streets are mostly clear. MOTHERFUCKING SNOWBALL FUCKING FIGHT.
  513. What's up, motherfucking sun--nice to see you. A little fucking late though.
  514. And we're out. Holy fuck, it's fucking Hoth out here. Axelrod's handing out the goddamn shovels. Let's get digging.
  515. Hambone's done digging the shafts, now Carl'll trigger the implosion and we ride this pork elevator to fucking freedom.
  516. @Rebecca_Bates What's so complicated about an escape scenario involving a dog, cans of pork n beans, and an intern? Oh fuck.
  517. Where did Carl learn all this? "I'm in the Junior Engineering club at Lane Tech." Fuck yes. Hambone, get those paws digging!
  518. Carl's got Hambone tunneling five shafts out, which will result in a "controlled implosion." Yeah, that sounds fucking safe.
  519. I get the pork n beans elevator, but I'm still a little unclear on how we're actually digging the motherfucking escape tunnel.
  520. When he presented the plans to me and Axelrod, he said, "It's pretty simple, really: We're going to Chilean Miner this shit."
  521. 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.
  522. 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."
  523. A downside to living in the crawlspace under my rented house: We're fucking snowed the fuck in. Not in--snowed fucking under.
  526. Back at the crawlspace, hot toddies all the fuck around. Fucking stay the fuck warm, bitches.
  528. Balanced on the roof of this plow cab, riding a fucking ice wave, in the middle of the worst fucking blizzard in a generation.
  529. We caught the wave! It's a fucking twenty fucking footer, all fucking gray and ice and snarl.
  530. ... and we're off the curve and in the goddamn air, flying. The wind and water are like wild animals fucking.
  531. Up on the roof of the cab, heading north down Lake Shore fast. Curve's coming up. Time to hang the fuck on...
  532. @maureenjohnson Like Florida in 1500 fucked.
  533. Me, I've got a fleet of Teamsters, and we're barreling down Milwaukee. ACES FUCKING HIGH, YOU MOTHERFUCKING STORM.
  534. Holy fuck. Unless you've got a fleet of Teamsters to drive you around, STAY THE FUCK INSIDE. It's insane out here.
  535. 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.
  536. 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.
  537. A giant fucking snowball rolled against crawlspace door. It busted open and out fell Carl the Intern, Hambone, Quaxelrod, and my Oreos.
  538. Plan: When this shit is over, massive fucking snowball fight on Ravenswood. East side of tracks vs west side.
  539. @tailsofrachel there's nothing fucking imminent about it.
  540. Looking out the periscope Axelrod hooked up. I'm pretty fucking sure snow isn't supposed to fall UP. What the fucking fuck.
  541. Sending Carl the Intern out on a sled, with Quaxelrod and Hambone mushing. Hope he's back with the fucking Oreos soon.
  542. Axelrod just came in for a quick check-in at the Weathercenter. His eyes are shining like motherfucking beacons. "This is my time."
  543. Oh fuck. I already ate all the motherfucking Oreos. Thinking about sending Carl the Intern out to pick up more.
  544. @johnfritchey Worst part is when they bump even THAT for storm coverage. Face it: you're fucked.
  545. @maureenjohnson Very fucking fucked.
  546. That's right Chico, Braun, and Del Valle, what do you got? Don't bring a motherfucking shovel to a plow fight.
  547. Axelrod's got a line of Teamsters trucks parked outside and he's attaching plows to them. Motherfucking shovel fucking ready.
  548. Axelrod's outside screaming, "ITS FUCKING HERE! IT'S FUCKING HERE!"
  549. Axelrod's outside just bellowing, "THE WIND IS PICKING THE MOTHERFUCK UP!"
  550. Public Service Announcement: In about three hours, you're going to need a lot of fucking whiskey.
  551. @designhawg We already have fifteen lawn chairs and a motherfucking cast-iron stove waiting on the curb to fill Axelrod's spot.
  552. @dullcatastrophe The backup generators have motherfucking backups. We're covered.
  553. Irish motherfucking coffee for the fucking win.
  554. Report from Axelrod's weathercenter has the big storm hitting later this afternoon. Perfectly fucking reasonable to get drunk now.
  555. Axelrod's built a cubicle out of oversize pork 'n' beans cans. He calls it "the weathercenter." It's been beeping all fucking night.
  556. Sweet fucking coffee. Axelrod had us buy 20 pounds of beans to weather the storm. I fucking doubled that.
  557. @johnfritchey You forgot to buy milk? You're so fucking fucked. Axelrod had us buy 40 gallons, so if you need one, ski over here.
  558. Finished my first two-hour snow-watch shift. So far, it's just really fucking cold. Hambone's up next.
  559. @tigerflight show me the fucking hand on a motherfucking duck or puppy. Fucking fucktard.
  560. The snowsuits Axelrod made for Hambone and Quaxelrod are adorable. Tiny fucking snowshoes. Tiny fucking hats.
  561. Snow preparations finally done. Now Axelrod just passed out our motherfucking sleeping shifts. 'Everyone gets two hours on watch. Everyone."
  562. Carl the Intern just asked if I need him to go Supreme this healthcare bullshit too. The kid learns fucking fast.
  563. @maureenjohnson I'm on motherfucking fucking snow patrol for the next 48 hours.
  564. Is it a preexisting condition when every fucking healthcare opponent is a fucking cancer in my ass?
  565. Fuck Florida, fuck district courts, and fuck those tea-shitting fuck-party assholes. I worked too fucking hard on that bill.
  566. The motherfucking Healthcare law is ruled un-fucking-constitutional? Fuck this motherfucking bullshit.
  567. Axelrod's response? "You want to be the asshole out there shoveling with his hands when we break the 18th,shovel just stop looking."
  568. Axelrod's list calls for twenty shovels, but I've hit six stores and only have eighteen. Fuck.
  569. @lindsayiversen I'd call a motherfucking successful fundraiser last night 'campaigning,' asshole.
  570. Axelrod has Carl the Intern smoking meats down here. This whole crawlspace smells fucking incredible.
  571. "... the fact that I'm on the cover is just pure fucking coincidence." But he's fucking smiling.
  572. I asked Axelrod about the fucking newspapers. "It's for preservation for future generations, in case we don't survive the storm... "
  573. Also on Axelrod's Storm Survival list: 100 copies of today's Chicago fucking Tribune and 100 newspaper-sized picture frames.
  574. Axelrod handed me a shopping list and said, "We don't have much time." The fuck do we need oxygen tanks for?
  575. Got back to the crawlspace and Axelrod's stockpiling canned goods. He just keeps muttering "storm coming." Fuck this shit.
  576. Jesus fucking Christ, I just woke up in the back of the Wilco van. My bongo hand feels like it's fucking broken.
  577. @TopSEO_Experts fuck you and your stupid fucking spam account.
  578. Also, would it fucking kill this motherfucker to smile every now and then? Cheer up, Tweedy!
  579. @RickSigler Have fun voting for Braun, asshole.
  580. So it goes without fucking saying, that he's going out there and playing "I Gotta Feeling," right fucking now.
  581. 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 Beiber.
  582. 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 fundraising.
  583. 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
  584. Tweedy's being pissy because he doesn't want to play any Black Eyed Peas songs. What the fuck? People love that shit.
  585. Spent all goddamn day at the vet getting that goddamn Lego out of Quaxelrod. Now running late to Tweedy's fucking fundraiser.
  586. Oh fuck. Quaxelrod just ate Lego Mubarak.
  587. 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.
  588. @Oscar_Wang fuck you, you stupid fucking shitbag.
  589. A can of Barrel O Monkeys is trying to loot the Lego museum, but they're being stopped by a floppy sheriff doll and a spaceman toy.
  590. A whole crowd of Barbies just set the Ministry of Information on fucking Lego fire.
  591. Axelrod has built a scale model of all of fucking Egypt out of Legos. It looks fucking amazing.
  592. Carl the Intern is wearing my wife's wedding dress under his sheet. "I'm the fucking Ghost Bride."
  593. @kalenski Jesus fucking Christ, Hambone is a motherfucking puppy. Quaxelrod is the duck. Keep up, asshole.
  594. Hambone looks fucking spooky as shit in his ghost sheet.
  595. BOO! You stupid motherfucker.
  596. @alisavino it's not my job to catch you the fuck up.
  597. Just found a box of sheets in the crawlspace. We're going to cut out eyeholes and haunt the fuck out of Halpin upstairs.
  598. Fucking nailed it on take four fifty three. Ring ring, motherfuckers, I'm calling you up.
  599. Motherfucking take fucking one hundred and twenty fucking six.
  600. On take fucking forty-six on these robocalls. I'm this fucking close to biting the fucking head off this fucking microphone.
  601. Text from Plouffe: "Just lube up your asshole then, because you're recording robocalls today. " Fuck.
  602. 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?
  603. Motherfucking Saturday meetings need to be constitutionally illegal.
  604. Just opened a box: motherfucking Twister! This night just got in-fucking-sane!
  605. @freejoe76 I'm thinking fucking no on that one, scoop.
  606. Best part of being down here is that I get to wear my grandfather's pleather jacket. I look like motherfucking Fonzie. Aaaaay.
  607. 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.
  608. Holy fucking fuck, it's finally motherfucking Friday fucking night. Longest fucking week ever.
  609. Couldn't find an apartment. Just moving into the crawlspace of my old house. Nobody tell the fucking asshole upstairs.
  610. Out apartment hunting. Again. It's fucking hard to find a place that'll take both a dog and a duck.
  611. Holy fucking Jesus fuck, little Alyssa just pulled a triple flip cannonball to win this shit. Axelrod's pouting in his speedo.
  612. 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.
  613. Cannonballs in the motherfucking pool. Quaxelrod is the judge. I got a 7.3
  614. Carl the Intern and Axelrod are in a pancake eating contest. Motherfucking artists at work.
  615. This Holiday Inn Express breakfast buffet is about to get fucked like it's never been fucked before.
  616. "Lets Break out of this fake ass Party / Turn this in to a Classic Night / If we die in each others arms..."
  617. Now we're all crammed in Axelrod's fucking Civic, the ceiling's still dented in, driving down Lake Shore Drive, just fucking freestyling.
  618. 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."
  619. It turns out Carl the Intern and Axelrod didn't crash Axelrod's Civic into City Hall. They went down to motherfucking Springfield instead.
  620. 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
  621. 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.
  622. 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.
  623. They're blaring that fucking Peter Gabriel song! And they're fucking smiling fucking huge smiles! And it's snowing. And it's beautiful.
  624. HOLY FUCKING SHIT! There's Axelrod and Carl the Intern, standing on the roof of the goddamn Civic, boomboxes over their heads.
  625. But seriously, that fucking Peter fucking Gabriel song is getting louder. Hambone says I'm crazy, but it's really goddamn loud now.
  626. Anyway, that shits over. One more of these motherfucking things. Then I never have to hang out with those three fucking people again.
  627. You know, in a motherfucking debate.
  628. I don't want to fucking sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed
  629. 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.
  630. Goddamn it, there's that fucking song again. Do you fucking hear it? I fucking swear Chico looked when it started up.
  631. I'm about to meet the challenge of changing out of this fucking suit. Almost fucking done.
  632. Hambone fucking drilled me on these goddamn facts and figures. I think I fucking nailed them 99% percent of the time.
  633. Chico thinks he smells fucking amazing, but the rest of us were joking about "eu de Chico" backstage. Right next to him, it's overpowering.
  634. Also, I'm pretty fucking sure Braun is dozing off right now.
  635. I'm stabbing Axelrod's MousekePen into my thigh every time the motherfucking camera cuts away. 17 more fucking minutes.
  636. Alright, bitches, let's debate this shit.
  637. Reached in my pocket and pulled out Axelrod's Disneyland pen. I gave him my fucking heart. He gave me a MousekePen.
  638. Holy fucking fuck, that fucking Peter fucking Gabriel song is back in my fucking head. Just what I fucking need.
  640. 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
  641. Axelrod would probably be wearing his beer hat right now, grinning like the motherfucking Cheshire fucking Cat. Fucking where are you?
  642. God, I fucking wish Axelrod and Carl the Intern were here right now. Who's going to hold my fucking feet for the kegstands?
  643. You stupid fucking fucks, have to debate me now. BRING IT THE FUCK ON!
  644. Just ran up to the other sorry fucking candidates and yelled, "MOTHERFUCKING WINNING THE MOTHERFUCKING FUTURE!"
  645. Shotgunning motherfucking cans of motherfucking beer two at a goddamn time!
  647. Huh. Feel a little stupid about the whole fucking apartment trashing thing now.
  648. Hambone is fucking humping every fucking leg in sight.
  650. Why did it just get so fucking quiet in here?
  651. And I totally see Braun strutting around with her fucking rooster. But no goddamn ducks? For fucking shame, man. For. Fucking. Shame.
  652. What the fucking fuck do you mean, no waterfowl in the Chicago City Club? Chico probably got his motherfucking Guinea Hen in!
  653. This motherfucking snow is going to make me look ridiculous if I go out in my tiger T-shirt.
  654. 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.
  655. Picking out clothes for the debate tonight. I've got fucking duck shit on most of my suits.
  656. There's that goddamn motherfucking song again. I'm going to stab myself in the fucking ear soon.
  657. Quaxelrod needs a swim, Hambone needs a walk, Pillow Del Valle needs a fluff. Didn't I used to have people that took care of this bullshit?
  658. 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.
  659. Sweet fucking coffee, you sometimes feel like my only motherfucking friend.
  660. Hey entire fucking East Coast: Yes, your weather patterns are fucking you in the ass. Now kindly shut the fuck up about it.
  661. @andymboyle I miss that guy. Sometimes he'd play the guitar all night. I wish I hadn't told him to shut the fuck up so many times now.
  662. @jason_hardesty you're really not motherfucking helping at fucking all.
  663. @CarmintheB He's a fucking pillow. You're really fucking asking? Holy fucking fuck.
  664. Seriously, this fucking song won't get the fuck out of my fucking head.
  665. @mtroy_hughes Smart people. Hope they keep them out. Motherfuck the motherfucking cupcake trucks.
  666. Debate prep wrapped. I sincerely fucking hope that Chico doesn't lick my face tomorrow as much as Hambone did tonight.
  667. I may have underestimated Pillow Del Valle. He's definitely got some good points about the fucking hotel tax.
  668. I keep getting Peter fucking Gabriel's motherfucking "In Your Eyes" stuck in my fucking head and it's driving me goddamn insane.
  669. 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
  670. Topics covered: lack of old guys tossing bread, repressive off-leash laws, and the handsy maid who works weekends. Fuck.
  671. 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.
  672. @vickiroush why the fucking fuck would I follow any of you assholes?
  673. 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.
  674. @cam_joseph on background? Sure, give a call: (312) E-A-T-S-H-I-T
  675. I've been shaking hands outside of PetSmart all morning. Last day I let Hambone and Quaxelrod set my fucking schedule.
  676. @mollyesque somewhere right between fucking slim and fucking none.
  677. Yeah, well Quaxelrod is working the phones, so you take what you can fucking get, you know?
  678. @nbcphilrogers just call the office: (312) FUC-KOFF
  679. Sweet fucking Jesus, all the fucking coffee I can drink? Bring it fucking on.
  680. Oh hell no, this hotel has a motherfucking breakfast buffet? And it's fucking free? Hell yes I'll have a pancake, thanks.
  681. @thebigrigrunner it's not my job to catch you the fuck up.
  682. This "I Didn't Know I Was Pregant" marathon is on until two AM. I feel like I've won the motherfucking election already.
  683. @SamAbernethy that I'd fucking believe.
  684. If anyone thinks I'm sitting through Bachmann, you're out of your goddamn motherfucking minds.
  685. I thought the speech was pretty great. I mean, it's a tough situat... HOW THE FUCK DOES SHE NOT KNOW SHE'S FUCKING PREGANT?!
  686. OK, maybe they moved the crotch chop to this part. Because it would be fucking perfect here.
  687. God, thinking about those fucking Chilean Miners still makes me motherfucking weep. Beautiful fucking people, stuck in a tiny fucking hole.
  688. 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"
  689. @markpopham but... but... HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT FUCKING KNOW YOU'RE PREGNANT?!
  690. Wait, wait wait--SHE didn't know she was pregnant either? The fuck, people?
  691. See, I'd told him to not mention Iraq or Afghanistan. "Nobody fucking remembers them. Don't fucking remind them."
  692. Yeah, maybe I'm fucking standing on my fucking hotel bed fucking cheering about getting rid of "frivolous lawsuits." Maybe now? In Illinois?
  693. Do you think Boehner painted open eyes on his eyelids, and he's just back there fucking snoozing? Fucking CLAP man.
  694. 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."
  695. Wait a second--SHE didn't know she was pregnant? How the fucking fuck did that happen? Oh shit, sorry. Flipping back.
  696. Boehner's really going for the "asshole of the year" award, huh? Yeah, douchebag, don't clap for student fucking aide.
  697. 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.
  698. Oh fuck, OK he took it in a different direction. Quaxelrod things the "win the future" thing is a nice flourish. I think it's for the birds.
  699. OK, see, I wrote this part. It ends with "Fuck Bush in his motherfucking shriveled fucking asshole. First CEO president my ass."
  700. It's two years of experience with this when I tell you: The key is to keep your motherfucking eyes locked on fucking Biden.
  701. Jesus Christ. Boehner's not even orange anymore. He's burnt fucking ochre.
  702. 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.
  703. That's right Obama, walk down that aisle, and bust people's chops. "You were looking a little scruffy." That fucking scruffy fuck.
  704. 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.
  705. 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.
  706. Found a hotel room for the night. Dropping some major campaign cash. Holiday Inn Express, bitches. Quaxelrod can use the pool.
  707. Fifty-two motherfucking percent, you stupid fucking motherfuckers. Quaxelrod is so excited, he's molting.
  708. Fuck this noise. Quaxelrod? Hambone? We've got a motherfucking election to motherfucking win. Let's do this shit.
  709. "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.
  710. "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."
  711. "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."
  712. "Except he didn't say 'everyone,' he said 'Blacks, Jews, Poles, and Hippies' but those were different times. Fucking substance is the same."
  713. "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."
  714. "You think when they started pissing on the parking meter sale that I fucking tucked tail? No, I sold off everyfuckingthing else too."
  715. "You think when I wanted to close Miegs Field, and they told me no, that I went adrift? No. I fucking closed Miegs fucking Field."
  716. "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."
  717. "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.
  718. 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."
  719. Quaxelrod just started quacking like crazy. It's foggy, but I can see someone else fucking floating toward us.
  720. Me, Hambone and Quaxelrod found a pretty sturdy sheet of ice and we're going to fucking float down the river for a while.
  721. There's a duck along the river here who has a bill with a little dark spot on it, like a mustache. Named him Axelrod. Quack fucking quack.
  722. The river water is brown like coffee, but it sure doesn't taste like coffee. I think I miss coffee the motherfucking most.
  723. Woke up to Hambone licking my face. Now we're tossing chunks of ice into the river. Big fucking splash. Scared the ducks.
  724. 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.
  725. Now it's just me and Axelrod's little puppy Hambone. Against the motherfucking world.
  726. 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.
  727. We trashed the apartment so fucking bad, there's nothing to go back to.
  728. 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.
  729. I ain't got time for this fucking game.
  730. And the fucking streets don't change but maybe the name.
  731. It's hard to see with so many around. You know I don't like being stuck in a motherfucking crowd.
  732. Fuck. I've been walking these streets at night. Just trying to get it right.
  733. fuck.
  734. motherfucking why
  735. fucking why
  736. motherfucking empty fucking emptiness. again.
  737. They'll get to you too. They'll destroy you. They're untouchable, man... I'm so fucking exhausted I can't see straight.
  738. Double birds to the motherfucking world. TO THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD.
  739. 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
  740. Every fucking thing in this motherfucking apartment is going through the front fucking window right fucking now.
  741. HOLY FUCK: Axelrod just flipped the Civic. This shit just got motherfucking realer than real.
  742. Carl the Intern just tossed a lit mattress through the window. "We don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn."
  743. 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
  744. Axelrod's got his Bears helmet on and is just fucking punching gaping fucking holes in the walls with his motherfucking head.
  745. Holy fuck, we're so not getting the security deposit back on this motherfucking apartment.
  746. Jesus fucking Christ. I'm just lighting any fucking thing on fire right now. Just to feel fucking something.
  748. 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.
  749. My brain feels like it's on motherfucking fire.
  750. OK, Carl the Intern makes a good point: Appellate courts are for pussies. We're going to motherfucking Supreme this bullshit.
  751. Motherfucking shit fucking fuck shitters. What the fucking fuck motherfucking happened?!
  752. Oh coffee, you glorious motherfucking bean.
  753. Tweedy's post-game snack: the Hanie. A jalepeno popper stuffed inside a pizza roll. "Tastes like sadness."
  754. I'm not sure Axelrod's ever going to fucking get over this.
  755. Kanye's got his vocoder set to a minor fucking key. We're all lost in this motherfucking world. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
  756. Fucking empty motherfucking emptiness.
  757. Oh goddamn motherfuck. That's the fucking motherfucking game. I am going to get so fucking drunk I'll be hungover until Wednesday.
  758. When Axelrod gets stressed out, he has to take a shit. He's been in the bathroom for most of this fucking quarter.
  759. Caleb Hanie. Be the ball. There is no motherfucking spoon.
  760. I need to get one of those giant fucking sidelines jackets. They look so fucking bad-ass.
  762. Just sent Carl the Intern out for the biggest fuck-it bucket of chicken you have ever fucking seen.
  763. Fucking fuck motherfucking fuck. The fucking tubby guy just scored? Fucking fuck this fucking shit.
  764. I will give Green Bay this: They have the most incredible display of man-tits I have ever fucking seen in my life.
  765. Spielberg's smart fucking mouth isn't fucking mouthing so much now. Let's motherfucking do this.
  768. Jesus fucking Christ. They're just pulling people out of the fucking stands to be quarterback at this point, aren't they?
  769. Come on Hester. Be the bad-ass motherfucker we know you are.
  770. Carl the Intern is on seventh fucking heaven with Collins in. "It's like they're sending interns onto the field." He's fucking right.
  771. Tweedy and Pritzker got back with the pizza rolls. Thank fucking god. Finally some good news.
  772. 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.
  773. I fucking hate fucking everything right fucking now.
  775. Kanye's choking back fucking tears: "Cutler's knee injury is a nice match for my heart injury."
  776. 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.
  777. Second fucking hot wings fire of the day. This shit just isn't getting any better, is it?
  778. We finally got Spielberg to take off his cheesehead, but he's got a Packers doo rag on underneath it. What the fuck.
  779. My "MOTHERFUCK GREEN BAY" tattoo is going to look really fucking stupid if this game doesn't turn around.
  780. At this point, the only thing turning this motherfucking game around are some goddamn pizza rolls. Tweedy and Pritzker are making the run.
  781. Motherfucking fucking motherfuck.
  782. Motherfucking interception, you bitches. Let's motherfucking do this shit.
  783. Kanye's a fucking mess right now. This game needs to turn around.
  784. Fucking goddamn motherfucking fuck. Fucking shit fucking fuck. Fucking fucktards need to fucking play this fucking game.
  785. Fucking goddamn motherfuck. I'm going to go crawl under a motherfucking blanket now.
  786. Kanye showed up with the same fucking motorola headsets the coaches have. We're all wearing them. We look fucking awesome.
  787. Fuck sack, motherfuckers! That's fucking right.
  788. Kanye just called, in tears. "I can't watch this shit on my own. Can I drop by?" Fuck yes, Yeezy. Fuck yes.
  789. Christ, I am nowhere near fucking drunk enough for this motherfucking game.
  790. Ari brought Spielberg, who is wearing a motherfucking cheese head. We're holding Axelrod back right now.
  791. Fucking Christ fuck. What the fucking shit fucking fuck was that fucking bullshit?
  792. I haven't even finished one of Tweedy's brownies yet, and the Packers are on the one? What the goddamn fuck?
  793. Doorbell. Holy fucking fuck, it's Ari. "You didn't think I'd miss this, did you, you stupid little shit?"
  794. Jeff Tweedy showed up with a giant plate of motherfucking brownies. "Game on, bitches."
  795. Penny Pritzker just showed up with treats: shot glasses with $100 bills in them. "Who's getting a money shot?"
  796. So it turns out vodka isn't a very good fire extinguisher. Finally got it out with Axelrod's Bears Snuggie. In-fucking-flammable.
  797. Motherfucking hot wing fryer fire! Holy fucking shit!
  798. 9am Game Day. Let's get our motherfucking drink on.
  799. 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."
  800. 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?
  801. Oh, it did not just fucking snow again. I am so fucking over this motherfucking winter bullshit.
  802. Motherfucking motherfuck. Finally pulled my fucking lips off that fucking frozen flagpole. There's blood absolutely goddamn everywhere.
  803. Um. It's fucking dark and fucking cold out here. Uh. Help?
  804. 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.
  805. Carl the Intern lined up some stupid fucking comedian to do a stupid fucking fundraiser for me tonight. Because you know what we need? Money
  806. 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.
  807. The only thing getting me through this frozen fucking day is the fact that it's Friday.
  808. We sent Carl the Intern out to get coffee, and he came back with three cups of motherfucking brown ice. Fuck this shit.
  809. Fuck this motherfucking brutal fucking cold right in its frozen fucking asshole.
  810. @copedog It took you 24 fucking hours to come up with that? Nice fucking work, dickweed.
  811. @alisavino he's in Chicago tonight, shithead.
  812. This tattoo is getting blood all over my tux for the Hu dinner. I hope nobody slaps me on the motherfucking back.
  813. @chitownpolitics Normally I think you're an asshole, but I'll take that one as a motherfucking compliment.
  814. It's nice, after a day sitting in truck on the side of I-90, to know that I have a giant fucking pile of money to roll the fuck around on.
  815. I've got 10.6 million fucking reasons the other motherfuckers are motherfucked.
  816. @avoidtheleper what else is motherfucking new.
  817. Also, if you need any motherfucking toilet paper we've probably got some extra.
  818. 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.
  819. After the TPing, we're all getting tattoos. I'm getting "MOTHERFUCK GREEN BAY" across my shoulder blades.
  820. Hope you stocked up on toilet paper, because we just cleared Costco the fuck out. Wisconsin won't know what fucking hit it.
  821. Where can I buy a motherfucking vat of coffee? I don't want a fucking cup, I want an endless fucking vat.
  822. @copedog seriously dude, who gives a fucking fuck?
  823. @kwithk when the playoff game to end all motherfucking playoff games is in four days? No.
  824. 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.
  825. Motherfucking cock-chokers. How the fucking fuck is it only Wednesday? Spent all goddamn day thinking it was Thursday.
  826. 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.
  827. And now Carl's planting a big kiss on Clinton, and he's just laying there hands behind his head with a big shit-eating grin. What the fuck?
  828. Now Axelrod and Carl the Intern are arguing and Hambone starts barking like crazy. Axelrod spins around and says, "Bark it up, fuzzball."
  829. Clinton looks strong enough to pull the ears off a motherfucking gundark. Axelrod says, "That's two you owe me, Big Bear."
  830. 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.
  831. 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.
  832. Axelrod found him, face down in a snow bank muttering something about Ben Bernake. Just "Ben... Ben... Ben..." over and over. The fuck?
  833. 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!"
  834. Woke up and Clinton's gone! His clothes and wallet are here. He's gonna fucking freeze out there. Come back, Big Bear!
  835. Axelrod managed to get Clinton in a fucking sleeper hold. Sweet dreams, Big Bear. Sweet Dreams.
  836. Clinton's smeared raw fucking hamburger all over himself and is sliding across the plastic-sheeted floor. "I'm the king of the world!"
  837. Clinton's up again. And he's crying. Giant fucking rivers of tears. This night is never going to fucking end.
  838. And he's passed out again. Tends to go like this all fucking night with the Big Bear.
  839. Managed to distract Clinton with news about Joe fucking Lieberman's retirement. Good riddance, you fucking froggy-voiced fuck.
  840. @JPeep I assure you that we're enjoying this even fucking less than you are.
  841. Here's the other thing: We don't actually have any fucking girls. Carl & Axelrod are going to do their best.
  842. God, I fucking hope we've got enough plastic sheeting.
  843. Clinton just woke up and announced, "The Big Bear's ready to meat wrestle. Where're the girls?" Fuck. I hoped he'd stay asleep.
  844. Got Clinton back to my place, where he announced, "The Big Bear's gotta hibernate," and immediately passed the fuck out.
  845. Finally got Clinton off the fucking stage. "But I was about to show them 'the Flamingo!''
  846. Holy fucking fuck: Clinton just asked, "Who's seen 'The Puppetry of the Penis?'" ABORT! ABORT! ABORT!
  847. Clinton's up on stage, drinking straight from the bottle. Crowd is tossing money and panties. The Big Bear's still fucking got it.
  848. 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?
  849. Clinton's been shotgunning vodka the whole drive in from the airport. I think I can hear his liver fucking sobbing.
  850. 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.
  851. I'm going to need a motherfucking Clinton-sized coffee to get me through this bullshit today.
  852. @juggernautco Never hung out with Clinton before, huh? It's just a lot easier than trying to get the fucking stains out after.
  853. @benkenigsberg Jesus fucking Christ man, grow a pair.
  854. Spent the entire day getting ready for Clinton. Plastic sheeting is a goddamn bitch to attach to the ceiling.
  855. Motherfucking shopping list for Clinton's visit tomorrow: 6lbs of hamburger, 18 bottles of vodka, 100 yards of plastic sheeting.
  856. Axelrod just sat bolt upright, said "THE GOLDEN GLOBES!" And took off fucking running. Guess it's time to head home.
  857. Still in the South Lot. Axelrod won't fucking move. It's OK though. My fucking Jack Daniel's bottle costume is surprisingly warm.
  858. Green fucking Bay is fucking fucked. Let's just do this shit today.
  859. What the fucking fuck is going on here?
  860. I hope Green Bay likes to get motherfucked.
  861. We're going to need a fucking wheelbarrow to get Axelrod home. Can someone bring one by the South Lot?
  862. I fucking blacked out for a minute there. Who the fuck let Seattle score?
  863. @KellyTwomey Jesus fucking Christ. Keep the fuck up: Only Carl got in. We're watching the game in some dude's van.
  864. Mother-touching fuck-down!
  865. If you've never missed a Super Bowl then you're a fucking asshole. Who thought these fucks were good spokespeople?
  866. Hey Seattle, we're giving out free concussions all motherfucking game. Just step right the fuck up.
  867. I say we just have Cutler run it every fucking play.
  868. @jcstarzyk bottle neck fit through the fucking sun roof.
  869. @jcstarzyk he got a ticket to the game on the fucking 50. We've been watching the game inside some dude's van.
  870. Axelrod was putting on his Staley costume for halftime, but all he could manage was the head before he started fucking puking.
  871. 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.
  872. Motherfucking Jay fucking Cutler ladies and fucking gentlemen.
  873. There's a rule that Seattle can just give the fuck up, right?
  874. Fuck yes you beautiful fucking team.
  875. Motherfucking touch motherfucking down motherfuckers.
  876. After all this, nobody's found a fucking ticket for the goddamn game except Carl.
  877. You're looking at the motherfucking king of the South Lot kegstands, bitches.
  878. 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
  879. 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.
  880. Axelrod's doing fucking handsprings in his fucking Bear costume.
  881. Axelrod's leading the entire fucking south lot in singing "Bear Down, Chicago Bears" except he's singing it as "Drink Up, Chicago Fans."
  882. @sridinats Plouffe handles most of my press. Give him a call: (202) F-U-C-K-O-F-F
  883. Axelrod's drinking tube is capped with a funnel. Every block or so, he's stopping and yelling, "PUT IT IN THE FUCKING FUNNEL!!
  884. 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.
  885. @sridinats Sure, just give me a call: (312) E-A-T-S-H-I-T
  886. We tried to talk him out of it, but Carl the Intern is dressed as a Lovabull. He's going to be fucking cold.
  887. @sridinats You know how I'm spending my pregame? Not fucking talking to fucking you.
  888. Heading down to tailgate at motherfucking Soldier Field. Axelrod's wearing his homemade Staley costume, rigged with a drinking tube.
  889. Up too motherfucking early this morning. Fuck this fucking bullshit.
  890. Motherfucking shit fuckers. I just slammed my motherfucking finger stub in the fucking door of Axelrod's fucking Civic.
  891. @shylobisnett I worry more about motherfucking flavor.
  892. Climbing the motherfucking french toast mountain this morning. Tally fucking ho.
  893. @BrianZable you're motherfucking kidding, right?
  894. MOTHERFUCKING RED FUCKING ALERT: "Reince Preibus" is a motherfucking anagram for "Beer's Epic Ruin."
  895. What the fucking fuck kind of name is "Reince Priebus"?
  896. Five o'clock, bitches--punch the fuck out. It's motherfucking Friday fucking night.
  897. @aaronmandersen fuck me if it isn't an iPod Touch. No wonder he never answers it.
  898. 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.
  899. @high_number @ComfortablySmug turns out it's a motherfucking iPod Touch. So fucking sue me.
  900. Apparently, these other fucking candidates won't be happy until I fuck a motherfucking Care Bear.
  901. Now Carl the Intern is swinging by the window, flashing double birds. That kid's fucking going places.
  902. Can I get a voucher to skip the next fucking debate?
  903. Well that's a fucking let down. There goes my motherfucking Monday night. Clinton's going to make us watch Saw again instead.
  904. Wait just one fucking second. I Spit on Your Grave only came out in October. They made 13 more movies in 3 months? I call bullshit, Carol.
  905. 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.
  906. It took forty-five fucking minutes to get to the parking meter deal. Fucking Axelrod wins the bet--I thought it would take three.
  907. @nbeaudrot no you're not, you're just a fucking idiot that believes in fucking fairy tales. Grow the fuck up.
  908. @ramsincanon I forget: is it class warfare if I tell you to suck it out of my asshole?
  909. The worst part about this debate is that Plouffe faxed over a list of words I couldn't say including "dickweed" and "twatwaffle." Fuck.
  910. @ComfortablySmug his stepmom doesn't even let him have a cell phone.
  911. By all means, let's take time to talk about a motherfucking children's fucking museum. That seems fucking useful.
  912. Jesus fucking christ, could these questions be more predictable? How we just tell you assholes what you're going to ask next.
  913. 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.
  914. So Braun's plan to get us out of this budget crisis is apparently to pull a motherfucking unicorn out of her ass.
  915. My next response might be to just bang my head on the table until it fucking bleeds.
  916. Hearing Braun talk about austerity budgets is like listening to a fat guy talk about fasting. Stick with what you fucking know.
  917. 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.
  918. Good thing we're sitting around a table, because I have to squeeze my balls occasionally just to stay awake. Boring fucking motherfuckers.
  919. Debate at the motherfucking Tribune offices this morning. Top on my list of bullshit that I don't want to fucking do.
  920. Someone needs to carve a portrait of whoever invented coffee into the side of a motherfucking mountain.
  921. Jesus fucking Christ, let's get this hand-shaking over with.
  922. One day, I'm never going to step foot in another goddamn L stop ever a-fucking-gain. Today is not that fucking day.
  923. Pork chop sandwiches for lunch. Bone-in, bitches.
  924. Motherfuck, this is a fucking hot cup of fucking coffee. I think I just burned my motherfucking uvula.
  925. @KZableh Wow, you win a fucking prize.
  926. 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.
  927. Supposed to read position statements, but instead spent the last three hours listening to that motherfucking Kanye record.
  928. @cowsharky fucking fuck you, you stupid fucking motherfucker. Fucking happy now, asshole?
  929. Rabbi Lopatin stopped by. He's got a sock full of batteries that is happy to explain to anyone the meaning of "blood libel."
  930. Axelrod is making four middle-finger ice sculptures to put in front of Braun's house. One for every fucking mortgage she has.
  931. Normally in Springfield everyone's too busy shitting themselves to actually get anything fucking done. What fucking happened?
  932. @vdld My profanity reveals that I'm a fake fucking account, you stupid fuck.
  933. Jesus fucking Christ, who replaced the Illinois statehouse with politicians with actual fucking balls?
  934. We fucked that sledding hill so hard that it's not going to walk straight for a week.
  935. Last sledding run is a pile-on: Axelrod on the bottom, then Carl, then me, with motherfucking Hambone barking away on top.
  936. Jesus fucking christ, I got half the fucking hill's worth of snow down my snowpants on that last run.
  937. When Axelrod gets to the bottom, he jumps off the sled, holds his hands straight over his head, and yells "STUCK THE FUCKING LANDING!"
  938. Axelrod's sledding outfit is one of the leftover luge suits from the Chicago 2016 Olympics photo shoot. Helmet and all.
  939. @Saul_Chicago We just have Carl the Intern do most of that shit. He's got one of those iPhones. It's fucking incredible.
  940. Me, I've fucking puked twice from going down spinnies on a motherfucking disc. Walking up for round fucking three.
  941. Carl the Intern's trying to go down standing up, but he keeps fucking falling off backwards. He's going to have a concussion.
  942. Axelrod is a mustachioed bullet streaking down the side of that fucking hill. Zoo-fucking-oom.
  943. Fuck lunch, we're going motherfucking sledding. Cricket Hill, bitches!
  944. @RexRedbone cook county doesn't have a mayor, you dumb fucking fuck.
  945. Great. This fucking puppy is scared of the motherfucking snow. He's pissed all over the floor. Hambone sleeps in the fucking Civic tonight.
  946. Motherfucking mother of god, whoever the fuck thought snow was a good idea today is fucking dead to me.
  947. @Machines4Chico fuck you and your stupid fucking fake account.
  948. @subliculous if you mean fucking adorable, we've already figured that out.
  949. Hey Chico, you just got motherfucking Hamboned.
  950. Turns out Hambone is a motherfucking shitting machine. Heading out to "inaugurate" Chico's new offices.
  951. That said, Hambone is fucking sharp. Really good debate advice. Someone get him a fucking Scooby Snack.
  952. This entire afternoon meeting has been taken up by Axelrod talking like he's the fucking puppy.
  953. Fucking Christ, Axelrod found a puppy underneath the L tracks today. He named him "Hambone" and has been talking in fucking baby talk since.
  954. The best part about the new "People's Poll" that's out is that 98% of the "people" are just Carl the Intern fucking around.
  955. Certainly Crains Chicago motherfucking Business has more to write about than fucking me. Don't the Groupon guys need their diapers changed?
  956. Jesus fucking Christ, waiting for this fucking coffee to brew might just motherfucking kill me.
  957. @mdm219 The fuck are you talking about? That guy eats almost nothing but duck confit.
  958. I'm not even going to dignify how it fucking happened, but fuck me if I'm ever helping Axelrod cook a roast again.
  959. Jesus fucking Christ. I have been locked in a walk-in meat cooler most of the motherfucking day. My cock is frozen fucking solid.
  960. Axelrod plays a game called "bagel king" where you toss a bagel at his finger. If it lands on it, he eats it. He's eaten fucking eight.
  961. @ourmaninchicago @samabernethy I see a resemblance, but he's nowhere near motherfucking pretty enough.
  962. @SamAbernethy @ourmaninchicago the fucking fuck does that even fucking mean?
  963. Motherfuck these tea party fuckholes. For fucking real.
  964. Holy fucking fuck. I'm sitting in this goddamn massage chair all fucking day. Fuck you if you think I'm moving an inch.
  965. Fuck all this fucking shit. It's Friday motherfucking night. Let's fucking go.
  966. 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.
  967. We've had to repack this motherfucking truck twice. And the whole fucking time, Bill has been on his fucking phone.
  968. This motherfucking piano is not going to fit in the motherfucking truck.
  969. Daley's got all his clothes packed in giant motherfucking steamer trunks, like he's setting sail on the motherfucking Titanic.
  970. Motherfuck. Bill just came in and had a shitfit because it was supposed to be two motherfucking layers of tissue. Rewrapping now.
  971. Daley's fucking sea glass collection has to have each fucking piece individually fucking wrapped, first in tissue, then in bubble wrap.
  972. @moghza he rented a fucking U-Haul, dumbshit.
  973. Guess who just had to "duck out on Presidential business," right as we were starting to move his fucking free weights.
  974. Bill motherfucking Daley must have a thousand fucking book boxes. My fucking back is going to be so fucking fucked.
  975. Daley moved some couch cushions, then started taking fucking calls. "I've gotta get this. Can you move that cast-iron stove?"
  976. In Axelrod's Civic on the way over to Bill Daley's place to help him move. He'd better have motherfucking donuts.
  977. Fourteen motherfucking voicemails like that. I'm tossing this fucking phone in the lake.
  978. "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.
  979. Great. Now Bill Daley keeps calling. He wants me to help pack his motherfucking U-Haul. Fuck.
  980. Axelrod just made breakfast. "I call it the Bacon Palace." My heart's going to fucking stop.
  981. @SamAbernethy do you fucking think?
  982. 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.
  983. Axelrod is in tears, he's laughing so fucking hard. "Do the part again where she made no money in 2009."
  984. Staging dramatic readings of Carol Moseley Braun's tax returns. Carl's playing the part of "What the fuck were you thinking?"
  985. Fucking goddamn motherfuck, I fucking need fucking coffee so motherfucking badly.
  986. @mdm219 have you looked at the completely fucked state of the fucking budget? We'll be putting ads on your asshole before its balanced.
  987. @kwithk depends if it's for business or personal use, dumbfuck.
  988. I'm so excited to read Braun's tax returns tomorrow that I feel like a motherfucking kid on fucking Christmas goddamn Eve.
  989. @sodboy13 the dime is his motherfucking tip.
  990. Won $78.35 at the boats. Going to convert it all to quarters and cram each one up Burt Odelson's motherfucking urethra.
  991. We're taking this motherfucking winning streak to the motherfucking boats. Those fucking nickel slots won't know what fucking hit 'em.
  992. You motherfuckers want to appeal this shit, go right the fuck ahead. We're on the motherfucking winning streak to beat.
  994. 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.
  995. 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.
  996. @madelynV if you're fucking stupid enough to watch Fox News, then you get what you fucking deserve.
  997. @madelynV the fucking fuck are you on about?
  998. Just for fucking fun, I'm going to release my tax returns dating all the way back to motherfucking Arby's.
  999. The best part of the next six weeks is going to be watching Carol Moseley Braun slowly fucking self-destruct.
  1000. New slogan: "Because this list of candidates keeps getting shittier: Emanuel '11"
  1001. 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.
  1002. All-day meeting and someone ate all the motherfucking crullers? Fuck this shit.
  1003. Fuck the motherfucking Green Bay fucking Packers.
  1004. Axelrod just about choked to death on a chicken wing after that motherfucking Packers touchdown. Fuck.
  1005. @jcgreenx the unfollow button is right over there, asshat.
  1006. This boring fucking game can suck on my motherfucking nuts.
  1007. Someone wake me up when they start playing fucking football.
  1008. We are swimming in motherfucking chicken wings over here. This fucking Bears game is fucking on.
  1009. Need. More. Motherfucking. Coffee.
  1010. Jesus fucking Christ: Nobody can get Danny Davis to leave. He's just fucking lying around on the couch watching cartoons.
  1011. @mdm219 You know who calls it that? Stupid motherfuckers and tourists. Which one are you?
  1012. @nic_fisher you should know only assholes call it that.
  1013. Thank fucking god: Carl's got coffee going and Kanye's making eggs for everyone. "My bacon scrambler is fucking incredible."
  1014. Holy fuck. Apparently 2011 is going to start with a hangover the size of the motherfucking Sears Tower.
  1015. Happy New Year, you stupid motherfuckers. 2011 is my goddamn year. But I'll let you borrow it from time to time.
  1016. Penny just showed up with her homebrew Four Loko. Davis is downing the tropical fucking punch flavor. Watch the fuck out.
  1017. Helen Mirren's fired up the motherfucking grill on the balcony. "Whip out your meat and I'll grill that shit."
  1018. Motherfuck: Ari just lit Carl's stepmom's underwear drawer on fire.
  1019. Kanye and Nobel Laureate Dale Mortensen have been playing beer pong against the Underpants Twins for like two fucking hours.
  1020. Also: Davis makes a fucking amazing drink called "the Leviathan." It's vodka, whiskey, strawberry yogurt, and peppermint schnapps.
  1021. It turns out Danny Davis is fucking awesome. He and Tweedy are signing "Islands in the Stream" together on the Karaoke machine.
  1022. Danny Davis just showed up. "Fuck this mayoral shit, I'm here to party!" He's doing body shots off Helen Mirren. Fuck yes.
  1024. Holy fucking fuck: Jane motherfucking Byrne just showed up. "This isn't a goddamn endorsement kid, I just need to party."
  1025. Jeff Tweedy brought Pictionary. This party is going to get fucking insane. New Years motherfucking Eve.
  1026. 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.
  1027. Samurai Mike Singletary just called to find out if it's OK if he brings a dessert instead of a side salad. Fuck.
  1028. 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."
  1029. Kanye brought his green bean casserole. Again. "I brought it because it's fucking delicious."
  1030. Ari brought guests: Kanye West, three Victoria's Secret models he calls "the underpants twins," and Helen Mirren. Helen's already drunk.
  1031. Oh fuck: "Hey you stupid fucking asshole, guess who flew into town?" It's Ari. He's here.
  1032. Ernie Banks keeps popping up on the Caller ID, but we're all trying to avoid him. Motherfucker can not hold his liquor.
  1033. Penny Pritzker just called. Her chef is mixing up some homebrew Four Loko for the party tonight. Motherfucking double caffeine.
  1034. Carl the Intern's stepmom is out of town, so the party's at his house tonight you motherfuckers.
  1035. Axelrod's walking around wearing these fucking huge 2011 novelty glasses and his Speedo. "I'm the Baby fucking New Year."
  1036. New Years Eve, I am going to bust you the fuck open.
  1037. Motherfucking sweet fucking coffee, there is nothing in the world better than you. Except maybe liquor. Or vaginas.
  1038. birds... birds... birds.... bird... fuck
  1039. Also, I really need them to come and empty my motherfucking bucket. Because that shit is fucking full to the top.
  1040. Axelrod and Carl are sitting outside my door, saying "We're doing this because we love you." Fuck them. I NEED MY MOTHERFUCKING BIRDS.
  1041. 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?
  1042. All I want right now is a motherfucking cheeseburger and to claw my goddamn eyes out. Instead I'm fucking flinging these fucking birds.
  1043. I've been awake since 7:45 yesterday morning, and have been playing Angry Birds for the last 19 hours. I fucking hate everything.
  1044. How many fucking levels are in this motherfucking game? Eight-fucking-thousand? Fuck.
  1045. These giant bowling ball red birds would be motherfucking amazing if this whole game wasn't fucking me in the ass right now.
  1046. @KosherHam fuck you and your stupid fucking novelty T-shirt.
  1047. @KosherHam Again? I've been fucking playing since 10:38 last night.
  1048. @thomascbowen Oh, I'm motherfucking right fucking there right fucking now. Fuck these fucking things.
  1049. These fucking boomerang birds might as well be flying up my own motherfucking asshole for all the fucking help they are.
  1050. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this motherfucking green pig fortress bullshit.
  1051. These motherfucking egg dropping birds are fucking driving me fucking crazy. How the fucking fuck am I supposed to control this shit?
  1052. They give you these motherfucking exploding fucking birds, but then they surround the goddamn pigs with fucking stone blocks? Fuck!
  1053. Seriously, Carl the Intern left his iPod Touch here and I've been up most of the fucking night playing it. It is motherfucking maddening.
  1054. @litescript what a stupid fucking idea.
  1055. Fuck these Angry Birds right in their motherfucking feathered fucking vents.
  1056. @jsundmanus I guarantee you that I would never motherfucking say that.
  1057. @scarpetablog and that helps me fucking how exactly?
  1058. 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.
  1059. Motherfucking melt this fucking snow, you motherfucking southernly breeze.
  1060. Holy fuck! It's actually above motherfucking freezing outside right now. Axelrod's in his fucking Speedo.
  1061. @BujeBaby Clearly you have access to this amazing fucking thing called the Internet, right? Try fucking using it.
  1062. Braun, if you want to get in on this bullshit too, know that we've got Hilary Rodman-Klinkton on motherfucking speed dial.
  1063. We've got a guy named Phil Clinton and another guy named Bill Kimpton on the motherfucking Megabus as we speak.
  1064. 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.
  1065. We're bringing every motherfucking distant fucking relative of Bill Clinton to town, just to make Davis's head explode.
  1066. Jesus fucking Christ, there is not enough motherfucking coffee in the whole fucking world this morning.
  1067. Whoever is advising Davis is doing a motherfucking incredible job. Keep up the fucking fantastic work.
  1068. This time between Christmas and New Years' may as well be renamed "Who Really Gives a Fuck Week."
  1069. Spent most of the night last night dumping buckets of water on Gery Chico's car. It's a motherfucking ice cube now.
  1070. This motherfucking cold weather makes me realize that Axelrod really need to up his fucking knowledge of hot liquor drinks.
  1071. Off to the Millenium Park ice rink. I'm going to show some motherfuckers what the motherfucking Russian Splits are all about.
  1072. Holy fucking fuck, someone get me a fucking cup of fucking coffee right fucking now.
  1073. Hey, New York, you just got fucked by the motherfucking Chicago fucking Bears.
  1074. @4danlopez it's not my fucking job to catch you up on shit you didn't read.
  1075. Axelrod just pulled up, jumped out of his car and keyed "FUCK YOU IN THE ASS" into the hood of her Escalade. Shit.
  1076. 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.
  1077. @maureenjohnson that's not fucking likely.
  1078. @maureenjohnson they know fucking better.
  1079. @maureenjohnson I'm fucking Jewish, you stupid fucking fuck.
  1080. 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.
  1081. Axelrod is a motherfucking parking-space shoveling artist. They should hang his fucking shovel in the Art Institute.
  1082. Motherfuck this snow right in its motherfucking lake effect ass.
  1083. Motherfucking Benadryl hangover. Fuck.
  1084. After that, we're going to head home, do Benadryl shots and play motherfucking Uno. Christmas fucking sucks.
  1085. Bought every bottle of lube in the store and are going to coat Davis's office sidewalk with them. Slip and slide, motherfucker.
  1086. @Jankowski60 Fuck that. Went with the Late Night All Nighter Cheeseburger flavor. Fucking incredible.
  1087. We've loaded up our cart with every fucking "As Seen on TV" piece of shit they have here. Snuggies for motherfucking everyone.
  1088. I'm trying to convince Axelrod that we should buy a bottle of Nair and just fucking obliterate his mustache.
  1089. 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.
  1090. Merry motherfucking Christmas, you stupid fucking fucks.
  1091. Final haul from bell ringing: Carl brought in $22. 73; Robot Axelrod, $271.58; my drummer boys, $321.93. They cost $2k. Fucking Christmas.
  1092. Goddamn it, that's it: I'm paying the fucking bucket-drummer kids $500 an hour to drum for me. Fuck you, Robot Axelrod.
  1093. @Jankowski60 pretty sure a guy can ring a fucking bell on goddamn Christmas Eve and not find his foreskin magically reattached.
  1094. Carl's back from the tree lot. He bought the shittiest tree ever. Hung one ornament and it bent. What a fucking blockhead.
  1095. @etc_etera I'm just being fucking generous. It's fucking Christmas.
  1096. @4danlopez fifty-one motherfucking percent.
  1097. 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.
  1098. Axelrod ducked into the bathroom and came out dressed as one of those silver robot guys. He's going to raise a fucking fortune.
  1099. Right now, Axelrod, Carl the Intern and I are getting fucking creamed by the motherfucking bucket drummer kids. Fuck this shit.
  1100. 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.
  1101. 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.
  1102. Without Meeks, this race got even fucking boringer. I'm going to be fucking catatonic by motherfucking February.
  1103. Axelrod and I had a great James Meeks drinking game. Take a shot when he said stupid shit. Could fuck you up in seconds.
  1104. Hey Meeks, too bad your ass got sacked.
  1105. Major upside of this residency bullshit being over: I can stop being folksy at your motherfucking El stops.
  1106. @TheAtlanticWire it was a low fucking hurdle
  1107. @gofiliberto At some point, you'll stop and say, "Holy fuck, I'm the fucking guy arguing religion with a fake Twitter account."
  1108. 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.
  1109. @gofiliberto No kidding, huh? Who the fuck died and made you the Talmud?
  1110. It's no Christmas fucking miracle, it's a Christmas fucking fact. As real as the motherfucking virgin birth. Believe!
  1111. Fuck yes two times, bitches.
  1112. 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.
  1113. All you motherfuckers can stick your motherfucking objections up your ass. RESIDENT, bitch.
  1114. Been drinking Irish Coffees since two in the morning celebrating this residency shit. Fuck all the motherfucking haters.
  1115. ELIGIBLE. Choke on that, you motherfucking bitches.
  1116. 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
  1117. Back when I danced, the Joffrey Ballet meant something. Now it apparently means fat fucking fucks floundering around a stage.
  1118. @mcmamasita fuck you, you stupid motherfucker. Ballet = life.
  1119. You call that a motherfucking sugar plum fairy?
  1120. I would rather rim James Meeks' asshole than have to endure another minute watching the Mouse King waddle around.
  1121. It's plié, degagé, motherfucking balancé, you fucking cows.
  1122. Seriously, Clara may as well just pull down her tutu and take a shit on the stage. Would be more elegant than her dancing.
  1123. Who the fuck is playing Drosselmeyer? He needs to hang up the motherfucking tights. Amateur fucking hour.
  1124. Five minutes in, Axelrod's already fucking snoring.
  1125. I went with the straight black tux, tie, and shirt. Black Swan, motherfuckers. Let's do this fucking ballet.
  1126. Axelrod just showed up dressed in a fucking tuxedo t-shirt. "Let's get this fun over with."
  1127. Seriously, you try and try and try, and the Joffrey motherfucking Ballet just fucking judges you anyway.
  1128. 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.
  1129. Busy day driving Axelrod's Civic by other candidate's offices, pelting them with snowballs and yelling "43 points, bitches!"
  1130. Carl's stepmom just gave all of us tickets to the Nutcracker Ballet tonight. First off: What the fuck. Second off: Should be me on stage.
  1131. Seriously, who the fuck releases their tax returns when they know they're filled with lobbying cash? You dumb fucking fuck.
  1132. Hey Chico--bend the fuck over, you fucking shitbag. Welcome to the campaign.
  1133. @urbancasita Jesus fucking Christ, whatever happened to foreplay?
  1134. 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.
  1135. Holy fucking fuck, I took way too many muscle relaxers for my back. I feel like fucking Gumby.
  1136. @rhondarobinett Goudie is an impressively stupid motherfucker.
  1137. @stringbot I'm trying to be motherfucking neighborly. Serves me fucking right.
  1138. Holy Jesus fucking Christ, I just threw my back out shoveling that 800 pound snow. Fuck fucking motherfuckers.
  1139. Going to pound a beer and txt Favre a picture of my dick. Bears fuck yes.
  1140. Axelrod just showed up. 39 seconds to enjoy this fucking chicken.
  1141. Post-season, you glorious motherfucking motherfuckers.
  1142. Axelrod got the Civic unstuck. Bring that motherfucking chicken home.
  1143. Axelrod just called. The Civic spun out on Elston. With our fucking chicken. Fucking motherfuck these fucking football snacks.
  1144. @Saney Wow, who died and made you John fucking Madden?
  1145. 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.
  1146. Hey Farve, welcome to motherfucking Chicago.
  1147. Motherfucking Chicago fucking Bears fucking football. Fuck yes.
  1148. I'm all for motherfucking winter safety, but Axelrod had better get here with the Chicken Tikka we ordered before kickoff.
  1149. @litescript the man does not fucking fuck around.
  1150. 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.
  1151. @ChuckGoudie Holy fuck, someone paid you to write that bullshit?
  1152. Axelrod's been driving around delivering curry all day, so Carl and I have spent the day playing a fucking wicked game of foosball.
  1153. 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.
  1154. @SamAbernethy no, what's awesome is that they fucking deliver to it. Daily.
  1155. Turned in the last paperwork: Seventeen xeroxes of my cock and three of my asshole. Plus my signature. Done. With. This. Shit.
  1156. Axelrod's Civic had its stereo stolen over the summer. Now the radio he lugs around is stuck on the fucking Christmas songs station. Fuck.
  1157. @bernhardkappe I'm not your dancing fucking monkey.
  1158. Fuck this--going to bed. Just signed the papers: "Suck it out of my asshole. Yours, Rahm"
  1159. Working on writing my last residency briefs for tomorrow. End with just "Fuck You," or "Fuck you, you fucking fucks"?
  1160. I would rather be nailed to a motherfucking cross than sit through another five minutes of this fucking marketing presentation.
  1161. Christmas next weekend means fucking meetings all motherfucking day today. Fuck you, Jesus.
  1162. That said, Carl the Intern is fucking thrilled. But he still has to wait two more years before he can enlist.
  1163. 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.
  1164. @e_y_w the fucking fuck would the point of that be? That shit is written by a fucking part-time communications staffer.
  1165. @AllieRaymond the unfollow button is right over there, you stupid fucking shitbag.
  1166. 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.
  1167. Motherfucking fuck this Saturday morning meeting in its motherfucking nostril.
  1168. 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.
  1169. Ernie Banks is standing in the middle of Ashland, taking swings at cars as they drive by. Seriously considering fucking leaving him here.
  1170. You haven't lived until you've driven around with Ernie Banks hanging out your window yelling, "You just got fucked by Mr. Cub!"
  1171. 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.
  1172. @chrisgeidner Not my fucking fault. They couldn't get it done because they're a chamber of motherfucking cocktards.
  1173. Fuck this motherfucking week, it's motherfucking over. Friday night, bitches.
  1174. 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.
  1175. New slogan: "Don't fuck with a guy with a huge fucking crawlspace. Emanuel '11"
  1176. Motherfucking coffee. Sweet motherfucking relief.
  1177. @juggernautco no, what's badass is that they fucking deliver to it. Motherfucking daily.
  1178. @KenzoShibata Holy fuck, I missed that shit not at all. Hope you had fun hanging out with the fucking losers that showed.
  1179. Gery Chico's just dressed like Gery Chico, but that's because he's seeing "Love and Other Drugs." Again.
  1180. 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.
  1181. Meeks just rolled up to the theater in like a fucking for-real lightcycle. His red suit looks amazing too. Fucking motherfuck.
  1182. Standing in this line for Tron with Axelrod and Carl the Intern. These fucking light-up body suits are both demeaning and fucking cold.
  1183. Axelrod just threw his light-up Tron Frisbee through the front window. Fuck.
  1184. 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.
  1185. @jewcymag wow, a mention in a list. On the internet. In-fucking-credible. Really.
  1186. @KenzoShibata just trust me when I tell you that you're looking for the other motherfucker.
  1187. You know the best thing about James Meeks? That he fucking opens his mouth. And fucking crazy shit just rolls on out.
  1188. 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.
  1189. Axelrod just showed me the Tron trailer. Holy fucking fuck, grown fucking adults watch that bullshit?
  1190. @a_claire I'm just going to take a wild fucking guess here and say those last two tweets are going to bite you in the ass come job-search.
  1191. Jesus fucking Christ, Carl the Intern just walked in. His eyes look like they're having their fucking period.
  1192. @OniJoseph a motherfucking light up fucking suit. Does that fucking work for you, you dumb motherfucker?
  1193. @imjasondiamond it is motherfucking incredible.
  1194. That also explains why he's wearing a light-up suit.
  1195. Turns out Axelrod's mostly moaning about having to wait 16 hours until the midnight opening of motherfucking Tron.
  1196. Axelrod too: he's sitting in the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas on his motherfucking eyes, moaning.
  1197. Holy fuck: I've just woken up with a motherfucking raging case of pink eye. I want to claw my eyeballs out of my fucking head.
  1198. @benbradley7 How the fuck should I know? You're the stupid motherfucker on TV.
  1199. 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.
  1200. The plan: We're going to ride Jane Byrne's sex dungeon door down this river of shit and on to motherfucking freedom.
  1201. Ate the last Slim Jim. Fucking fuck motherfuck.
  1202. 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.
  1203. @kwithk Verizon. Can you motherfucking hear me now?
  1204. It's actually kind of beautiful down here. Quiet, except for the sound of water flowing. You forget where you are--until someone flushes
  1205. @ellengladish you know, I don't remember a single fucking thing about last night. Blackout.
  1206. Emptied our pockets: 25 Slim Jims, four packs of Nutra Sweet, three pens, and a fucking pocket guide to Midwestern water fowl. So we're good
  1207. @litescript the fucking fuck would Carl have a flask for, when he filled mine this morning?
  1208. Downside: looks like we'll be down here for a while. Upside: Axelrod's got like 30 fucking Slim Jims in his fanny pack.
  1209. Someone make a note to remind me that when I'm mayor, first order of business is to fix the fucking City Hall sewer access door latch.
  1210. @cornwuff motherfucking Verizon.
  1211. Fucking goddamn motherfuck. I'm fucking stuck down here too. All three of us, in the fucking sewers below City Hall.
  1212. Fuck, now Axelrod is fucking stuck under City Hall too.
  1213. 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.
  1214. @davemcclure it's just really hard to sit with your fucking lips on my sphincter.
  1215. @TheAtlanticWire welcome to yesterday. Try to keep the fuck up.
  1216. Axelrod's watching video of my hearing and listening to the Tron soundtrack. Looked at me in tears: "Life's easier in The Grid."
  1217. All water flows downhill. Those motherfuckers in the basement hearing room will be swimming in shit by 1pm. Motherfucking payback.
  1218. Sent Carl the Intern over to City Hall. Operation "Clog Every Motherfucking Toilet in the Fucking Place" is underway.
  1219. @TilDthDoUsApl No, I didn't stab someone because I'm a motherfucking professional.
  1220. Carl the Intern makes this breakfast that's a pancake wrapped around a hard-boiled egg with a sausage stuck through it. Fucking incredible.
  1221. @davemcclure pull your motherfucking face out of my ass.
  1222. Holy motherfucking mother of god, I need to swim in a goddamn fucking ocean of motherfucking coffee right fucking now.
  1223. Off to eat a steak the size of my head, then go home and punch a fucking mirror until my knuckles are motherfucking pulp.
  1224. Well that's over. Motherfucking fucking motherfuck.
  1225. Some dumb motherfucker... that I hate. Hope you enjoy today.
  1226. 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.
  1227. Five hours of this testimony and I've come to one conclusion: People are motherfucking assholes.
  1228. I am going to drink more alcohol than you can ever possibly imagine when this motherfucking godforsaken shitstorm of a day is over.
  1229. These questions are awesome. I'll take "Fuck You In The Motherfucking Armpit" for $500, please.
  1230. I swear to god, if Axelrod shows up at lunch break with fucking Subway, I'm going to completely lose my motherfucking shit.
  1231. Well here goes motherfucking nothing.
  1232. In the bathroom at City Hall trying to dethaw my ballsack at the hand dryer and Dock fucking Walls walks in. Fuck this day.
  1233. Someone keep count on how many times I "itch" my eye with my middle finger during testimony today. I bet 352 fucking times.
  1234. Frozen balls, riding the bus, and giving fucking testimony to 25 motherfucking assholes. A+ motherfucking day.
  1235. And the Civic won't fucking start. Axelrod, Carl, and I are riding the motherfucking bus. Fucking perfect.
  1236. 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.
  1237. I went out to grab the paper and now my motherfucking balls are frozen to my motherfucking leg.
  1238. @DJAHa I think you need to look into what a motherfucking mayor actually does.
  1239. Motherfucking six fucking degrees? Fuck this motherfucking bullshit.
  1240. @kwithk really, why would I want to follow any of you stupid motherfuckers
  1241. @subliculous Carl says you heard fucking wrong.
  1242. Fuck studying for this motherfucking testimony. Axelrod's back with pizza and beer. Your honor, it's time to fucking drink.
  1243. Motherfucking flag's four stars: Fort Dearborn, the Great Fire, the World's Columbian Exposition, and the Century of fucking Progress.
  1244. Chicago derives its name from the motherfucking Miami-Illinois tribal word for "wild onion." Fuck yes: shikaakwa.
  1245. Did you know there are 77 communities in Chicago? Motherfucking take THAT, Board of Election Commissioners!
  1246. 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.
  1247. Axelrod just got in from gassing up the Walker and his mustache looks like it was part of the Shackleton expedition. Icicles.
  1248. I know it might not send the right message, but we're taking the Imperial Walker to get to the residency hearing. Fuck the Taun-Tauns.
  1249. Who the fuck replaced Chicago with the motherfucking ice planet Hoth?
  1250. @ashamedtosay @cholmes96 Have you looked at the city budget? At the state of the schools or the cops? Your fucking side street isn't shit.
  1251. @ashamedtosay @cholmes96 not my fucking job yet, assholes.
  1252. Motherfucking Cutler is a motherfucking cocktard.
  1253. I'm going to go outside and have Axelrod whip iceballs at my cock. Has to be more fun than this motherfucking football game.
  1254. Motherfucking fucking fuck fuckers. What the fucking fuck game is fucking Cutler fucking playing?
  1255. fuck this motherfucking football game. fuck it right in its snowy motherfucking ass.
  1256. Pretty sure it's payback for making Carl follow Chico around this week pretending to record him, just to fucking fuck with his head.
  1257. Carl the Intern scheduled a fucking presser about education in the middle of a goddamn snow storm and the motherfucking Bears game.
  1258. @jollyevil speaking the fucking motherfucking truth right there. I've already had 14 cups.
  1259. I'm so tired I think I'm going to vomit, and now it's motherfucking snowing like a motherfuck.
  1260. 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.
  1261. @KTAndrea you're the dumb motherfucker that lives in Minneapolis.
  1262. Motherfuck this motherfucking rain.
  1263. Axelrod and I are filling the house with donuts and seeing if we can eat our motherfucking way out.
  1264. I don't give a thousand fucking fucks; it is motherfucking finally Friday night.
  1265. @HermannM spoken like someone who hasn't lived within 10,000 motherfucking miles of an actual fucking dictatorship.
  1266. Fax from Plouffe : "We need to work on your likeability before your testimony." Faxed him back a picture of my asshole.
  1267. Fucking annoying hearing today that leads to even more motherfucking annoying hearings next week. Democracy is a bitch.
  1268. Holy fucking fuck, I need some motherfucking coffee poured directly into my fucking mouth right this motherfucking second.
  1269. Axelrod is doing yogurt and beer shooters.
  1270. Motherfucking pro tip: soy sauce and fucking cognac. Motherfucking amazing.
  1271. Getting ready for the residency hearing tomorrow by drinking every motherfucking thing in the kitchen. Up next: Baileys and dish soap.
  1272. Fuck you, you motherfucking Senatorial fuck-asses.
  1273. He also says no to pulling down my pants, spreading my cheeks and saying "Eat my motherfucking deep dish."
  1274. @caribbeanscot the fucking fuck is "workings"?
  1275. Strategy session for residency hearing: Axelrod says no to pulling my cock out and asking, "You want this shit Chicago style?"
  1276. Hoffman finally got the final candle lit. That guy sure does know a lot about the motherfucking Maccabees. Fuck me.
  1277. At this point, I'm holding my hand above the menorah, just to feel something.
  1278. 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.
  1279. Spending the last night of Hannukah with David Hoffman. It might be Yom fucking Kippur by the time he gets all eight candles lit.
  1280. Also, he's got a fucking knitted mustache pouch to keep his 'stache warm.
  1281. Axelrod's taking his heartbreak out in ice sculpture: joining Santo is Elizabeth Edwards, a unicorn, and a fucking sweet T-Rex.
  1282. @marinos fuck you. Lose the mustache and you lose the man.
  1283. Axelrod has replaced all his Santo candles with Elizabeth candles. Rough fucking week for that guy.
  1284. I would rather stick my dick to a frozen fucking flagpole than answer another motherfucking residency question.
  1285. But really, these fucking candidate forums looking absolutely motherfucking awful.
  1286. Too motherfucking soon?
  1287. I would rather hang out with Elizabeth Edwards' corpse than have to go to one of these motherfucking "mayoral forums"
  1288. @pigeonspotting it's not my fucking job to catch you up on tweets you didn't fucking read.
  1289. It warms my asshole to see dumb motherfuckers get kicked off the ballot.
  1290. So my tenant isn't running for mayor after all. What a fucking motherfucking shock.
  1291. Holy fuck, it's motherfucking cold as motherfucking shit outside.
  1292. Elizabeth Edwards was fucking classy--too bad her husband was such a fucking douche-cock. And also about the cancer.
  1293. Standing in front of City Hall, giving the fucking double birds to all these dumb fucks walking into the Board of Election office.
  1294. Motherfucking coffee fucking commence!
  1295. We drove by Chico's house and I pissed "Fuck you you fucking motherfucker" in the snow.
  1296. Dug out Axelrod's Civic to go buy some boots. Put fucking five lawn chairs and an old ironing board in the spot.
  1297. Axelrod's outside with a chainsaw carving a motherfucking Ron Santo ice sculpture right now.
  1298. Also, Carl the Intern won't make me a hot cocoa because he's sitting shiva with Axelrod over Santo. Fuck me.
  1299. My feet are so fucking numb that I'm considering setting them on fucking fire.
  1300. 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.
  1301. @Jankowski60 hey dumbshit, it was Bilandic not motherfucking Byrne. Get your shit straight, asshole.
  1302. I'm out here fucking shoveling this shit myself because Axelrod has been fucking catatonic since he heard motherfucking Ron Santo died.
  1303. Fuck this snow. Fuck this snow. Fuck this motherfucking snow.
  1304. What are you waiting for? Motherfuck every fucking thing, it's Friday fucking night! No snow yet, you assholes get out there!
  1305. Axelrod just ripped the bumper off his Civic trying to attach a fucking plow to it. "Just trying to be prepared."
  1306. You know what's just fucking adorable? That Ed Burke still thinks he fucking matters.
  1307. Motherfuck! The! Sleep! Of! Hoffman! Is! The! Greatest! Sleep! Of! All! Motherfucking! Time! Hoff! Me! Again! Motherfucker!
  1308. @ChrisFidis uh, you realize that you're talking to a fake account, right? Move along, dumbass.
  1309. @ChrisFidis not my lord, asshole.
  1310. Jesus fucking Christ, I almost burnt the motherfucking house down lighting that second candle.
  1311. Sure, he's a fucking stand-up guy, and I'm fucking glad he's on ou... zzzzzzzzzzzzz
  1312. Seriously I just look at that motherfucker and I get sleepy. They should stand him outside mattress stores. Make a fucking fortune.
  1313. Seriously, there is a reason this guy lost to dumb-fucking Alexi. And that reason is he is a motherfucking painfully boring motherfucker.
  1314. Keep me locked in this room with David Hoffman much longer and I'm going to turn into a fucking arsenic-eating lifeform too.
  1315. New slogan: "It's 2010, this is for mayor, and Trivial Pursuit is for fucking pussies. Vote Emanuel."
  1316. And Braun would have a lock if we were competing for placement on a motherfucking Trivial Pursuit card.
  1317. And Gery Chico would be a threat if we were running for president of the fucking PTA.
  1318. Danny Davis would be a worthy motherfucking opponent if it was 1982.
  1319. Holy fucking motherfucking fuck, where the fucking fuck is the motherfucking coffee.
  1320. Thanks to him, we're up to our ears in fucking Hannukah gelt.
  1321. Jesus fucking Christ, it turns out that Carl the Intern used to hustle kids on the Dreidel back in Hebrew school.
  1322. All this "starting at sundown" shit would be a lot fucking easier if sundown wasn't in the middle of the goddamn afternoon.
  1323. @emaufmuth the fucking finger fucks me on Skeeball.
  1324. I have so much fucking Hannukah shopping to finish. Fuck this motherfucking lunar calendar bullahit.
  1325. Axelrod's been standing outside, shovel in hand, for three hours now, like he's Nanook of the fucking North.
  1326. @lawstcause who died and made you Tom fucking Skilling?
  1327. Fuck this motherfucking snow right in its motherfucking nimbostratus cloud formation.
  1328. So 21 Chicagoans have filed objections to my candidacy. The other 2,853,093 think I'm fucking amazing. I can live with that.
  1329. Strategy session: We're going to contest everything up to and including the existence of the motherfucking City of Chicago.
  1330. @lakecountydem who the fuck died and made you the motherfucking Talmud?
  1331. @Positiveinlife no, I'll chop her fucking dick off too.
  1332. 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
  1333. Post-birthday hangover means that I'm going to make Meeks see motherfucking god for this shit he's pulling with my tenant.
  1334. Stumbling into bed. Wet, hoarse, happy. Fifty-one is going to be all fucking right.