Liveblogging the Iowa Caucuses

Precinct Party at my house -- Comments open, BYOB

5:15 PM: Looks like a real barnburner! Tammy set up the living room for the GOP and put card tables in the basement for the Democrats. Be right back, I gotta go to Hy Vee for sandwich platter and Old Milwaukee.

5:40 PM: Goddamn, the lines at Hy Vee were a zoo. Chris Matthews was there with his stupid MSNBC entourage and they cut in front of me at the 15 items or less line with a cart full of bottled water and takeout salads which he forgot to write down the weight. Then he starts asking the cashier if the salad bar is organic, and then he didn't have a Fresh Values card so the cashier had to call for a manager. I got so pissed off I finally let him use mine. While he was paying I hocked a loogie into his salad.

Later while I was loading the beer and sandwiches into my Camaro, I saw Matthew's MSNBC news van get t-boned by Zogby's Pollmobile. Karma's a bitch, Crissy. LOL!

6:10 PM: Finally back at the house. There was a caucus traffic jam on Highway 6 and while I was waiting I saw that the Casey's Store had a special on PBR so I stopped in and snagged a couple of 30s. Fridge is full but I they'll stay cold on the patio deck. On the way out I almost ran over what I thought was a small raccoon, but it turned out to just be Kucinich. 

6:18 PM: Tammy is giving me the total stinkeye because the caucus people are showing up late and she want all of them out of the house before Grey's Anatomy. Like it's my fault eVite's default time zone is Pacific. A couple of UAW union guys from Waterloo show up and give me shit about my Yamaha. Hey, if Harley made a dirtbike maybe I'd buy it. I give them some Old Milwaukee which shuts them up. Some Huckabee supporters arrive with a hot dish and an abortion poster.

6:30 PM: The house is starting to fill up and the entry landing is filling up with filthy melting slush from the pile of shoes. Some of these idiots (especially the Mike Gravel people) don't even take off their shoes and tromp crap all over the new carpet we just got from Menards. Joe Biden drops by, supposedly for some "last minute campaigning," but I swear I saw him rifling through the coat pile.

6:42 PM: The Romney and Huckabee people are bitching about the lack of decaf soft drinks, and the Democrats are bitching about the lack of vegan hot dishes. The McCain people want their own room, so I send them to the garage. Holy Christ, I am glad this is only once every four years. I go out to the patio to light up a doob, and get startled by a couple of creepy pie-eyed Ron Paul zombies. "Drug... laws... are... unconstitutional," they moan. *shudder*

6:58 PM: Finally, they're getting started. When I came in from the deck some Romney dude was giving a speech on Massachusetts, and the Olympics, and his awesome hair, and blah, blah, blah. Just then I heard some yelling and clapping from outside the window, and it turned out to be Hugh Hewitt, so I went outside and chased him off with a shovel.

7:07 PM: Oh great. the Democrats are yelling from the basement about a problem. One of the Clinton people choked the bowl on basement commode and it's starting to back up, and they're screaming at me to fix it. I try to plunge it but the fumes are unbearable, so I cut up some Hefty leaf bags and duct tape the toilet door closed to minimize the stench. Looks like it will be a bad night for Hillary too.

7:18 PM: When I get back upstairs Tammy has John Edwards pinned against the wall in a chicken wing hold. "Hey Mister Let's Have a Caucus Party," she sneers, "one of your goddamn guests has been going at my makeup drawer." When she boots him out the front door, I realized I'm probably won't be getting any for a while. I decide to stop drinking beer, and switch to tequila.

7:31 PM: Jesus, what a disaster. The Huckabee people are speaking in tongues and accusing the Romney people of believing in dinosaurs. The McCain people have invited the network news people for their caucus in the garage, and that fucking Tim Russert has his lighting man standing on the hood of Tammy's Civic. I open up the garage door and shut off the garage power at the fuse box, figuring they'll get cold and go away.

7:42 PM: As if things couldn't get any worse, now the Democrats are coming upstairs to use the hall toilet because of the problem in the basement. The environmentalist only use one square of paper, and the others steal entire rolls. None of them wash their hands. I'm headed out on the deck to smoke another doob with the Thompson people, who seem to be the only sane ones here.

7:58 PM: Jeeeeshh. About 5 minutes ago a big black Lincoln stretch pulled up on the lawn and out pops Hillary, along with 15 or 20 of her closest flunkies and footmen. They barge right into the house, without ringing the bell, without so much as a "hey Dave," and head straight down to the basement. Apparently with the plugged up toilet and all the vote was not going real good for her, so she was here for a little last-minute canvasing. Some of the people in her entourage started instructing the caucus people in the basement to vote for her, but they pretty much ignore them. Then Hillary starts screaming at her main flunky, "goddamn it, I told you to make them vote for me!" Normally I'd probably feel bad for the guy, but I'm pretty drunk right now so I kinda laughed. But I laughed harder when Tammy pushed by the security people and grabbed Hillary by the hair and booted her ass out the front door into the driveway snowbank. I probably won't laugh as hard when Tammy does that to me later tonight.

8:15 PM: That was weird. I heard the exhaust fan running in the upstairs bathroom so I went up to turn it off. When I opened the door Barack Obama was in there torching a one-hitter. "Hey man, want a hit?" he goes, with a big grin. I'm pretty toasted already so I said no thanks. "That's cool,' he says. Really seems like a nice guy. So then he shakes out some blow on the counter and offers me a line. "No thanks man," I say. "That's cool," he says. "Y'all Chase the Dragon?" he asks, pulling out a spoon, lighter and some rubber tubing. I declined again. I'm not sure how good a president he will be, but he's certainly a lot better house guest than Hillary.

8:31 PM: Shit, talk about a buzzkill. Down in the living room Huckabee has won the GOP caucus and his salvation freakshow is pouring all my beer down the sink (even the good stuff like MGD), shouting"Praise Jesus!" I yell at them to stop, but they crank some godawful Creed song on the stereo and tell me they're going to perform an exorcism on me. The Democrats are screaming in the basement, apparently because they can't decide on a candidate and how to divy up the shit they stole from my garage and liquor cabinet. I'm too high to figure out what to do.

9:11 PM: All my friends know about Tammy's mean streak, and some of them wonder how I can risk staying around her. Well, sometimes that mean streak comes in handy. Like tonight when she grabbed her .410 and shot it off into the living room ceiling. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here," she yelled. "I will thank you to now get the hell off my property."

There was a lot of mumbles and grumbles, but they did all shuffle towards the door. Some Guiliani guy mumbled something about "sensible gun regulations," but Tammy cracked him on the back of the head with the stock of the .410. I laughed pretty hard at that, but then she turned and glared at me. "What are you laughing at, Party Boy? You get the hell out like the rest of them."

Long story short, I'm at Super 8 for the night and my laptop battery's almost dead. So no matter what the pundits and newspapers tell you, the real winner in Iowa tonight just locked me out of the house.

Comments

Oh man; time to clear outta this joint - the spambots are here.

Hey Hawkster, can I bunk on the floor at the Super 8? My old lady ain't fond of me comin' home all liquored up...

[Steve]

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[M. Simon]

Don't you just hate it when the old lady jacks a round into the pump instead of pumping a round outta the jack?

Maybe you can find a cuttie at the Super 8.

Nite all. Been much fun.

[Major John]

A pity about the beer getting drain-o'd. At least the Huckabee and Romney people didn't start a sectarian war in your front hallway...

[Thomas Collins]

Enough with the candidates, their supporters and Tammy. When is I-hawk going to resolve the real mystery of the night? We all know he has a stash of PBR, Old Milwaukee and Doobs. But the real question is did he ever take a trip to Little Rhody about four decades ago and bring back several cases of Narragansett Lager Beer (I know they are selling beer under the Gansett name again, but I'm taking about the REAL horse pi$-, er, Gansett). And has he stored them in a basement freezer. And is he bringing some out tonight to celebrate Preacher Huckabee's temporary ascension to the top of the GOP heap.

[Ray]

Was that raccoon being followed by a tall redhead with a tongue stud?

[M. Simon]

Re. 7:58,

The Red Witch stage whispers Vince Foster and Democrats fall in line. Or dead. Which ever comes first.

[M. Simon]

Drudge calls it:

WINNER: Huckabee 33!; Romney 24 McCain 11 Paul 0; Thompson 17 Giuliani 0

[Tully]

Heavy turnips do take longer to process.

[M. Simon]

Orin Samuelson has yet to weigh in with any predictions.

[M. Simon]

Durge reports that heavy turnips in Iowa may delay the process.

I'm waiting for the sorghum report before I make any predictions.

[M. Simon]

I support the Thompson campaign position on medical marijuana.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

[M. Simon]

Drudge:

Huckabee 33; Romney 24 McCain 11 Paul 0; Thompson 17 Giuliani 0

[I Heart Thomson]

"the only sane ones here" Amen!

Go Fred!

[Tully]

A Kucinich voter just came by, looking for the IowaHawk party. I told him "Dave's not here, man."

(Hey M. Simon, my uncle worked at that Falstaff plant up until it closed.)

[M. Simon]

Druge reports that despite the voting going on the numbers are unchanged.

[Tully]

One of the Perot voters just knocked on my door, asking for directions. I told him he was in Kansas, and pointed him towards Iowa.

[Tully]

Verbs? We don't need no stinkin' verbs! I don't gotta show you no stinkin' verbs!

Old Mil, PBR, Falstaff...The only thing missing is some Jax.

So, where are all the Perot voters assembling? The shed?

[M. Simon]

BTW I was a straight A student in AP Math and AP Physics. I got Cs and Ds in English. Which explains why I have trouble getting my verbs right.

[M. Simon]

When I was a kid I used to service the cigarette machines at the Falstaff plant in Omaha. Free Beer! On tap. yea.

And now it is closed? All I have left is the memories. BTW that was a different age. I was 16. Kids today are so screwed.

[Wind Rider]

Old Mill?

Damn, things have sure gone to crap since they closed the Falstaff plant in Omaha.

[will.see]

PBR and Old Mill together? Man are you gonna pay for that. So will Tammy...

Happy Caucus!

[Joan of Argghh!]

Hot damn! Just the sort of blog hangout I was looking for tonight.

*settles in with Capn 'n Coke, smoked oysters and datil pepper sauce*

You and the Vodka Pundit make politics drinkably bearable.