A Message from Hizzoner Rahm Emanuel
Hey, Mother Fu#^ers,
Everyone and their retarded uncles have probably heard by now that I, Rahm Emanuel, White House Chief of Staff (on my way out the fu#^ing door) am supposed to run for Mayor of my home town, Chicago after Daley's sudden announcement that he's stepping down. Why is that? It really doesn't matter why his approval ratings are in the shitter or that the city is broke, or how any of that happened. So, for now, you can call me 'Hizzoner' until I decide whether I want the job or not.
What matters now is that the people of Chicago will need a strong leader to fill Daley's shoes and collect the dues. (I'm good at collecting dues, and don't DON'T even start talking sh*t about my height because I KNOW PEOPLE.) While that gravedigger buster Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart's name is making the rounds, believe me, I'm the guy around Chicago who knows where the bodies are buried. These other pansies in this poll called We Ask America haven't read We Ask Fu#^ing Rham, have they.
I'm not saying yet if I will or I won't run for Mayor, especially not to you fu#^ing babies at the Washington Post who make sh*t up as you go along, anyway. So, while you pussies are wondering why I might – might want to run for Mayor, don't forget that my man on the street (code for 'the smooth talking orator guy I walked into the White House') is also having his sorry ass handed to him in the Swamp for colossally blowing it on a long, long chain of undelivered, promised goods filed under the “hope and change” tab (haha) which will probably cost him 2012. It seems that the Inauguration was only yesterday.
Looking back, I think it was those disrespectful Scandinavian mother fu#^ers who pissed me off the most for refusing to cut the Chicago Olympics deal under Barry's watch - that's when the whole tuna can lid of this administration began to peel back. The rest is history.
Don't even get me started on peeking into Nate Silver's fu#^ing candy ass crystal ball for “predications”. F^CK YOU, Silver!
Did any of you people even consider that maybe I'm sick of being a political big, swinging, public servant dick and might want to switch hit over to the private sector? (No, you didn't, and don't try to tell me you assh*les did.) I know, the broke city of Chicago needs me to get back home and start kicking ass, even if I'm Mayor or not. And if nobody votes for me, boo-hoo, too fu#^ing bad because maybe I've got other, bigger, waaay bigger fu#^ing fish to fry. Like firing up the Chicago Climate Exchange (CCX) to name one not entirely half-backed scheme. I could even keep a seat warm for Barry by the time he gets back in 2013. Good times, all over again.
We'll make a new start trading carbon futures and bring a whole new meaning to the “Hookers and Blow School of Economics” where derivatives beasts rule and greenbacks are old school. Frame THAT, you fu#^ing babies without an inside clue. Talk about future book deals, baby... “Barry and Me: Building a Bridge Out of Fu#^ing Thin Air to the Hog Butcher of the World” is one title I'm already floating.
Maybe I'll even drive to DC to pick up Barry in my new Fisker, only I'll have to get the thick smell of bacon and grain spirits out of the backseat upholstery first. By all means, the prospects are so mother fu#^ing exciting, I've got to go take a cold shower.
Here's the important thing. If you forget all about how Chicago's public schools are one big, fu#^ing mess or that whole Renaissance 2010 stinker Barry cooked up with Arne Duncan is another frothy house of cards that needs filthy lucre that doesn't exist to run on, or that the fu#^ing teachers union contract is rolling around and they're in no mood for any more cutbacks and Charter Sch$ol sh*t, the city of Chicago is gonna need an Enforcer the size of Goliath. That would be me.
IF...if I run.
Hizzoner Rahm Emanuel