I Nailed the New Hampshire Primaries But My Editor Still Favors Young Upstarts

Read

Just like I did in Iowa, I predicted the outcome of the New Hampshire primary with near 100 percent accuracy. While I’ve eaten my election cake and eaten my victory lap, my editors could not care less. For while the Dig has destroyed the cretin Nate Silver once again, I’m supposed to cede my precious column inches to two young colleagues who simply go by the Twitter names @virgiltexas and @ByYourLogic so they can give you their moronic recounting of their last day of showing up late, snarking at young men and women who actually give a care, and abusing DXM in New Hampshire.

Here’s their “reporting”:

We Hope This Is The Last Rubio Thing We Ever Do

After vowing not to pursue the slimy Floridian after his scheduling incompetence two days prior, we went back on our word as we’re wont to do. Having been granted press access to Rubio’s election night party, we traveled to the Radisson in Manchester and passed hallways filled with salt and pepper-bearded men glowering at us on our way to Rubio’s credential table. There, a man in the official Rubio uniform (a quarter zip fleece over a shirt and tie) and a female granted us the official campaign press passes.

While we glanced over the hastily-constructed piece of cardboard, the man sneered at our hard plastic John Kasich press passes, which we picked up just earlier.

“Nice passes from Kasich,” he laughed. “God, he’s just burning through money.”

After this bizarre outburst, we entered the press room. There, we saw dozens of staffers who looked identical to the insecure press pass man. Rubio has an army of ice cube-chewing Brooks Brothers mannequins who exude an aura of sexual frustration and condescension and could easily pass as the senator’s illegitimate children, whom the Floridian attempted and failed to legitimize.

Our goal in there was to film a quick video, maybe ask one of the 23-year-old Junior Wolfowitzes to name 3 things that inspired them in under 30 seconds. We were bothered by three virtually identical men at one point, who demanded to know our credentials again. We said “CAFE” without looking at them, leaving them to shuffle around moronically because they’re not used to being dismissed. We finished doing whatever asinine thing we were doing and went on our way, saying goodbye to Rubio’s warmed over Project for the New American Century freakshow for hopefully the last time.

Later into the night when we saw Rubio’s concession speech, we couldn’t help but think of the UFC title fight between Josh Koscheck and Georges St-Pierre. Georges St-Pierre was a beloved champion, and Josh Koscheck was a talented s**ttalker. Years before their rematch for the title, the two men fought. St-Pierre won very easily. When the rematch rolled around, someone asked St-Pierre if he was excited for the fight. The Quebecer responded that while he wasn’t, he was happy that after he won, this would be the last time he’d ever have to hear from Koscheck, because the American couldn’t possibly secure a third fight after two sound beatings. Sure enough, Koscheck lost a one-sided decision and he faded from our memories.

This is Marco Rubio, who has lined up for the free throw multiple times, and multiple times shot, missed, and had his pants fall down in front of everyone. Hopefully, all that people will remember is Rubio unable to sustain a direct attack from Chris Christie and looking absolutely terrified, Rubio trying to be the bigger man than Trump while looking like he’ll burst into tears at any moment, and Rubio stammering with anger. Rubio is such a revolting, cynical marketing creation, a dips**t whose combover shows you exactly where they stuck Paul Bremer’s brain in his head. He was grown in a lab to sell you the Iranian war that you and your kids will die in. He’s a new smiling face that can kiss King Salman al-Saud or whoever on the mouth. He’s empty in every way, and doesn’t even have the interesting “gross!” factor of Ted Cruz. We wish to never see him ever again.

Kasich’s Boxcar Hits Overdrive

“We want seatbelts! We want seatbelts!”

That, or something like it, was the chant last night at Ohio Governor John Kasich’s rambunctious victory party in Concord, NH. Early returns showed Kasich in 2nd place after Donald Trump, claiming the title of Establishment Winner in the first-in-the-nation primary.

Kasich’s team of upbeat teens and polite moms (“CAFE? I love coffee!”) were a welcome contrast to the Rubio gang of sociopathic future Raw Story article subjects.

There’s no incredibly funny thing we have to tell you here; yes, the Kasich town hall the day before had a child in Kasich-branded Under Armour running around with a microphone, asking questions from likely plants, to which Kasich would respond with byzantine stories that made no sense. The Governor was just as weird yesterday, but he was also electrified, having gotten exactly what he wanted in a strong second place behind Trump.

There were a lot of very strange, very Ohioan chants that seemed meant to summon Kasich, who only took the stage after Donald Trump’s speech ended. This proved to be a good strategy, as the hapless rich kid Jeb Bush’s own concession speech was pre-empted by Trump on Fox News.

Kasich spoke in sweeping, Bill Clinton-esque terms, about the overlooked Americans whose “victories aren’t celebrated and defeats are ignored.” He told rambling stories about meeting the parents of kids with addictions and terminal illnesses, ultimately coming off as a sincere man who is equally intense and odd. This isn’t an endorsement of the man; he’s a weirdo who has set back women’s health in Ohio a good century and tried to get Blockbuster to ban the movie Fargo because the violence made him upset. He also has the same insane hatred of Shia Muslims that all Republicans are constructed to have per factory settings. He would, however, probably beat Hillary Clinton in a general election because of how human he can come across. We suppose that we’ll never know.

Carl “The Dig” Diggler has covered national politics for 30 years, and is the author of “Think-ocracy: The Rise Of The Brainy Congressman”. Got a question for the Dig? E-mail him at carl@cafe.com or Tweet to @carl_diggler.