Matt did a LIVE BOURBON BLOG last night during the South Carolina GOP debate. Prior to the debate he announced how he was going to tweet during the debate while drinking.1 He even invented a new drink, the Modern Whig (chug bourbon straight from bottle, smash bottle, use glass to slit wrists). I found this drink and his feed during the debate to be highly entertaining… I knew there was a reason I drink bourbon with him. His best tweet, in my opinion, was his opening:
“7:38: annnnnnndddddd, we’re live! I’m coming to you tonight from the northern tip of the Confederacy, just a stone’s throw from Lee’s estate, and just 150 meters from a street called Lee-Jackson Highway. Yeah! With me on the couch are my laptop, a 375 of Woodford Reserve Kentucky Bourbon , and the ghost of John Calhoun. I’d say we’re ready.”
This blog post, however, made me think about the stupid idea of sitting down with GOP presidential candidates and having a drink.There is a common refrain about voters wanting a president they can have a beer with. In 2008, Thomas Nagorski argued that this “have-a-beer” as a presidential quality may be exclusively American. He also notes that others have asked “Where’d we get this notion that the President of the United States should be a drinking buddy?”
I don’t want a presidential drinking buddy. Choosing a president based on his alcoholic consumption and his ability to guzzle from a beer bong is ignorant and devoid of rational thought. The assumption that someone I can have a conversation with is a presidential quality is utter madness. A presidential candidate shouldn’t have to sell themselves as an “average” person, or a person capable of carrying on a conversation about baseball.2
People I drink with should never be president. Not that my drinking buddies are idiots or incapable of making presidential decisions. They are smart and funny guys. The problem is that they are too sarcastic and too smart for the Oval Office. None of them would be willing to put up with the bullshit that comes with the presidency.
For the sake of discussion, I am willing to imagine the scenario of having a drink with each of the remaining GOP presidential nomination candidates. This is pure speculation on my part, and I don’t think I would accept an offer to have a beer with any of them.
– Mitt Romney: possible location would be the Underbar in New York City (201 Park Ave. South), the expensive drinks would lean toward his income bracket. If he agrees to have a drink with me, the most I could do is drink in a place of his choice. I am torn on the drink selection though. On one hand I imagine we would drink an extremely old (expensive)scotch, the stuffiness of it would match his publicly perceived personality. Conversely, I can see us drinking Bud because of his desire to seem like the average Joe and Bud would be the first beer that would pop into his mind. We actually know he doesn’t drink due to him being a Mormon, so we would probably meet at BLT Burger in New York City (470 Sixth Ave) for milkshakes,3 … the only way he would consume alcohol is if I slipped some in when he went to the bathroom.4 I wouldn’t care what he wanted to talk about because I would bug the shit out of him for stock picks. If he assisted in giving me a winner, he would have my vote. I would hang with him all night as long as he kept talking about “how he got rich.”
– Newt Gingrich: possible location would be Quill in D.C. (1200 16th St, NW) because the gleaming yellow glass bar would appeal to his narcissism … it would perfectly reflect his big hair5 and allow him to gaze at himself. We would enjoy something Newt would call “scholarly and glowing”, like the Sparkling Clementine (Prosecco and freshly squeezed juice). The conversation would obviously be about all things Newt.6 In an attempt to steer the conversation toward something I gave a shit about, I would ask him about the methods he goes through when writing alternative history books. Newt likes history,7 I like bullshit … the conversation would flow naturally. My attempt would be for naught and I would walk out as soon as Newt said “… now imagine if Hitler and FDR had been brothers and the children of Martians.”
– Rick Santorum: potential location would be the second row of pews in St. Patrick’s Cathedral8 in New York (5th Ave). We would be sharing a bottle of Boone’s Farm wine that is wrapped in a brown paper bag. Between sips he would stash the bottle under his coat and steal glances around to ensure no one saw our transgression. Initially, the conversation would be about his love of God and country, but the more we tasted the sweet nectar that Boone’s Farm is … he would steer the conversation, in a slurred voice, toward “damn fags and slutty teen moms.” I wouldn’t leave until he passed out. No one walks out when a drunk idiot is blubbering.
– Ron Paul: location would be on a bench along the Galveston Island Strand in Texas. He would comment on how the open air and ocean makes him feel free and inspires him to ensure others experience the pleasures of freedom. He would pass on drinking with me, but would encourage me to drink whatever I want as long as I don’t get too drunk and start infringing on the other Strand visitors’ pleasure. After hearing this utopian bullshit, I would down my Shiner Bock in three swallows, thank him, and chuckle at the midget as I walked away on the beach.
If we really want to see their true characters, we should force them into a room (wired with CCTV of course) and then make them do beer bongs.9 After a couple of those, there is no telling what will come out of their mouths. True character comes out when idiots are drunk. I know because I express some amazing shit after I guzzle beer from a bong.
1. His wife was going out with friends and he hoped his two young daughters would go to bed and sleep. It seems his fortune held for the evening because none of his tweets seemed to indicate that his wife or daughters were around.
2. I am, however, entertained by President Obama going through the PR stunt of making his March Madness selections, but I know this isn’t anything more than propaganda.
3. Matt suggested the milkshake.
4. Contact me for a bitchin’ bourbon milkshake recipe.
5. And head… Newt has a big fucking melon.
6. Newt’s an ass that way.
7. Newt thinks he is a historian, he is an ass that way.
8. He was “knighted” there as a member of the Knights of Malta in 2005. Something seems very Renaissance Fair weird about Opus Dei and the whole knighting thing… I wonder if he wore tights and chewed on a turkey leg while getting “knighted?”
9. Open marriage?