A Day In The Life Of A Drug Addled Mayor

Before we get into today's mischief, check out our joint blog for a Snippet Sunday post. Have a peek at Norma's blog for her take on an unexpected situation involving the Avengers. Shelly has tips on critique preparation. And Krisztina has a pic of the week at her blog.

Now then, I have written about this colossal douchebag, complete idiot, and national source of annoyance and humiliation before. Check out previous posts here and here. Odds are this won't be the last time either. I look forward to the day when this horse's ass and his blowhard brother are finally removed from public life for all time.

11:05 AM. Waking up out of what feels like it must have been a drunken stupor. Head pounding. I hate hangovers. Almost as much as I hate liberals, smart aleck left wing goons, hippie pinkos, the media, the police, every member of city council, the premier, and the Dalai Lama.

11:10 AM. Best way to get over a hangover... the hair of the dog that bit you. I down my first booze of the day. Ahhh, really tasty. Even better if I'm smoking crack.

11:45 AM. Out the front door. I grunt to the driver. No sign of those ****ers on my front lawn asking questions. I hate reporters. Too bad I can't take a flamethrower to the ****ers.

Wait a minute... if they're not here, I guess that means I didn't do anything weird during last night's drunken stupor.

11:47 AM. Barreling down the street, over the speed limit. I wonder where the driver is... 

Oh, right, I left him back at my driveway. Oh well, I'm good to drive.

11:53 AM. Swerving on and off the sidewalks. Get outta my way, you ****in' idiots! I'm the ****in' mayor!

12:20 PM. Arriving at City Hall. Parking in the middle of the street. What the **** are the cops gonna do anyway? Ticket me? **** 'em. They're all out to get me.

12: 23 PM. A few people ask for photos with me near the entrance. I grin and ask if they're voting in the next municipal election while we're having pics taken. They're in some kinda uniforms. 

12:28 PM. Walk into my office. Say hello to Dougie. My brother tells me the re-election campaign's having trouble getting support in the community. He thinks the cops and the reporters and the lefties are all doing something to undermine us. Yeah, that's right, Dougie. The problem's them. Not us.

1:00 PM. Walking into council chambers with Dougie. We sneer as we pass all those councilors who turned against us and pulled that bull**** move taking away my mayoral powers. Just wait til the election when Ford Nation turfs every single one of you mother****ers out. Then you'll see what happens. I'll be bigger than ever, and all of you ****ers will be outta a job. And then I'll really go to work on you ****ers. Nobody screws me over. Nobody!

1:05 PM. Dougie and I start a verbal shouting match with some granola eating hippie pinkos up in the public gallery. Hey, you don't like the way Robbie Ford rolls, I don't give a **** what you think. You're the problem, not me!

1:07 PM. The council speaker insists Dougie and I stop arguing with people. We roll our eyes and return to our seats, snickering among ourselves.

1:10 PM. One of those left wing pinko ******* is talking. God, I hate him. Always have, always will. Thinks he knows everything. Thinks he's better than me. Well you're not better than Robbie Ford, you ****! You hear me? You're not better than me!

The speaker demands I apologize. I roll my eyes, shrug, and say it won't happen again.

1:13 PM. Screaming profanities at that **** Matlow. The speaker insists I leave.

You think you can tell me what to do? **** you!! All of you ****ers want a war? You've got one! I'm the greatest mayor this city ever had! I'm gonna be Prime Minister one day, and when I do, I'll have every single one of you horsewhipped!

1:25 PM. Back in my office. Totally pissed off. Drinking vodka. That'll take the buzz off. Speaking of buzzes, I could really enjoy smoking some crack. Haven't had any of that since yesterday. Seems like an age ago. Just as long as nobody catches me.

1:55 PM. Dougie walks in. I put the crack pipe away. Hey, Dougie, did those ****ers apologize to me yet?

1:57 PM. Dougie tells me that last night I was caught on video drunk in a Tim Horton's ranting about the Orientals ****ing Australians. It seems the video just made the news. Hey, I can't comment on anything I mighta said while I was drunk, but the important thing is we've gotta keep moving forward and take out that gravy train and bulldoze the houses of every single left wing hippie pinko on our enemy list. By the way, Dougie, we've gotta fill a few staff vacancies. Do we have any buddies of ours with no experience but plenty of criminal records willing to work for me?

2:10 PM. Emerging from the office. The media's waiting for me. ****in' reporters. I hate every one of 'em.

They start shouting all sorts of questions about what I meant in the video, and if I've ever heard of rehab. **** you! I was elected to take down the gravy train, and build the subways, and make this city a world class city, and I've done that! Everyone's talking about this city, and that's because of me! So go **** yourselves, you ****ing mother****ers! You don't watch your ****in' mouths, I'm gonna call up one of my buddies and have every single one of you ****ers put in the ground!

2:12 PM. Looking exasperated as I tell the reporters they misinterpreted what I said two minutes ago. Feeling a pounding in my head and a tight pressure in my chest. What the **** is that about? No time to worry about that. I mutter a few things, walk away from the lot of them, and say I've got nothing else left to hide.

I hope they buy that, but I hear one of them call after me, "what are you hiding?"

2:35 PM. Dougie and I are in crisis mode talking in his office. God, I'm thirsty. Dougie, do you keep any vodka in here? Look, it'll all work out. The hard workin' taxpaying citizens who are with us hate the pinko commie hippies just as much as we do. They don't care what I do with my off time. All we do is get the message out there. Not like that Kimmel *******. That ****er just made a fool of me.

2:40 PM. Dougie and I look over the enemy list while we drink Scotch. Yeah, Dougie. Yeah. Every one of these ****ers is gonna pay when I get re-elected.  Right after I have the media outlawed. 

4:00 PM. What the **** am I still doin' here? I've been at work long enough. Time to take off, have some ****in' fun.

5:05 PM. Gettin' wasted at the bar with my old pals Butch and Vinny. They're good people. Oh, sure, they've been ****ed over by the legal system and in and outta jail dozens of times, but that don't mean they're not great guys, salt of the earth.

6:05 PM. Dougie tracks me down at the bar. Tells me we've got a problem. Hey, Dougie, let's not talk about problems. Problems just give me headaches. 

Dougie says the people I posed with this morning at city hall were with Aryan Nation.

How's that a problem again, Dougie?

9:30 PM. Dougie's managed to get me kind of sobered up at my office. We find the press gathered outside, and the ****ers start shouting questions about Aryan Nation. I feel the headache coming on. I hate hangovers. I mean, if it was possible to never stop drinkin' even while asleep, I'd love that. 

I start to speak... and then keel over and throw up.

11:00 PM.  Back home. The footage of my throwing up all over the floor starts off the national news. Oh, great. I can see those ****ers makin' hay of this for weeks. And those ****er comedians having a field day with this.

Boy, do I need a drink. Something that'll make me forget this whole day even happened.