Did somebody say McDougal's?

For a few years in the late 1970s most of the delis in New York City were selling a kind of a sandwich called "The McDougal." The Big Man's vices were considered excessive by even the Studio 54 crowd, which is saying quite a lot. Of course, in '70s New York that was exactly the kind of thing that would make one a celebrity. The sandwich was as excessive as the man whose name it bore. A whole Virginia ham was thin-sliced, topped with a full wheel of melted Stilton cheese (which stunk like sweaty feet), a whiskey-mushroom sauce and grilled Scotch Bonnet peppers, all of which was served between two family-sized chicken pot pies. The price was also excessive, averaging at $149.99. Most chose to split the cost and the sandwich among a large group because of the enormity of both, but not everybody would share. Elvis Presley particularly fond of The McDougal during the year preceding his death. Now, unless you knew of a deli that was truly disreputable, you couldn't get The McDougal prepared in what the in crowd considered the real way it should be served: topped with a generous mixture of cocaine and heroin. It was up to you to add that particular finishing touch. It is rumored in certain sandwich circles that it was actually an over-seasoned McDougal that took the life of John Belushi. I'm not sure I believe that though. Today it is impossible to find a deli that will even admit to knowing about The McDougal. Every once and a while I hear about some back alley deli in an unfashionable neighborhood that has put The McDougal back into production, but so far all have turned out to be mere rumors. It seems that kind of irresponsible sandwich-making died out with disco.

McDougal Campaign Tour - Day 7

Campaign Managers Journal 8/29/06 - somewhere in the Midwest

McDougal seems to have instituted a new system of navigation. We are travelling from ice cream shop to ice cream shop. Chain stores are not acceptable, nor are hard ice cream shops. Only locally owned soft serve. Preferably in some sort of novelty building. McDougal seems to know the exact location of every Dairy Duck, Tast-E-King, Curly Top and Bunky's Igloo between Bangor and Baha. We are making poor time.


Utah speeches could have gone better, but I wouldn't call them a complete disaster. McDougal has abandoned the podium and taken to giving all speeches perched on the edge of the stage. "Crowds" seem impressed with his down-home charm. If we could only get him to talk about the issues he could be unstopable. Even if his positions on the issues are complete nonsense, when combined with down-home charm the voters will eat that shit up like a soft serve sundae. Fuck, it's been working for Bush for decades. Utah seems to conservative for McDougal's style of politics, however I like his instincts in this case. Those Mormons are always going door to door. Could be a good way to build word of mouth about the campaign.

The extra truck (Interns have taken to calling it Vehicle X, not sure I approve) is still with us. Highway cops seem to ignore it the same way the press ignores our campaign. A few reporters have turned out for McDougal's appearances, but they are from tiny local papers like the Nosepick Corners Union Register. They mistake McDougal's tortured genius for the rantings of a common lunatic and rarely print an article. Does a common lunatic travel in a luxury bus with an inflatable gorilla? I think not.

Found out yesterday that McDougal has been giving pills to the convoy drivers. Truck drivers are used to taking lots of pills, but I'm worried about the effects on the interns.

McDougal Campaign Speech Transcript

This speech was given to a crowd of seven in Provo, Utah on August 22:

It has not been edited for accuracy, brevity, or clarity. These are the words just as they rolled from the big man's gullet:

What manner of fruit is this? I thought it was a pink lady. The
apple. Its exterior is soft and supple ... but smooth ... like a lady ...
almost plasticine. And behold. It has a pit. Like a
peach. Dear God, man. What manner of fruit is this?

"crowd" sits in rapt silence

Never thee mind.

McDougal knocks over podium and walks to front of speaking platform. Sits on edge and addresses "crowd" directly.

If you have a dog. And a cat. Say you have both. And you
take them swimming. You notice the dog is the more efficient
swimmer. He has a stroke, nay a paddle named for him. The cat
flails
and thrashes about in the water, stirring up a fuss. "Why flail
you,
cat?"
Damn cat. And the dog retrieves the duck or mallard or
whatever it is
that you people -- and I am assuming you are all hunters --
call them.
And you grab that cat by the scruff of his catneck and you say to
him,
"What sex are you, damn cat?"
And you turn him about, but you cannot
tell. And he does not
answer.
And you say unto him, "I should like
to make the babies with you."
And he does not answer.
Trow are then
dropped.
And finally ... "I am a man," says the cat. "Same as
you."
Then we cannot procreate.
And we do not.
Say I to him, "Where ist
thou penis?"
And he says you cannot see such things.
"But I can see the
dog's cockandballs."
"Aye," says the cat.
"And why can you not
swim?"
The cat says the cat can, though he choses
otherwise.
"The
flailing and such?"
"Yes."
"And later, I take you home and put you on my
waterbed, and you poke holes
in it with your talons."
The cat agrees,
this is what he does.
"They are tiny holes that I do not notice, until I
awaken in a pool of
stale water at 4:13 a.m. on a Tuesday."
"Aye," says
the cat.
"And on the next day, a Wednesday, I crush your skull and eat
you."
The cat does not respond.
He is submerged under the water.

And tomorrow we dine on cat stew!

The audience has gone and McDougal is left alone on the stage ... alone with a bag of Habnero Doritos and a half-empty fifth of gin.

'Twill be a good year.

The McDougal Campaign Tour - Day 1

Campaign Manager's Journal - 8/22/06 - Washington, D.C.

The Campaign Convoy got off to a late start this morning. Had to rent an extra truck at the last minute because McDougal insisted we bring more drugs, weapons and several novelty items that he made me track down at the last minute. We probably wouldn't have needed the truck if he didn't insist on the giant inflatable gorilla like the ones you see at used car lots. McDougal says it is our answer to the elephant and the donkey and wants it set up at all campaign functions. The only inflatable gorilla I could find at short notice is pink. McDougal does not think this will create an image problem.


The media doesn't seem to be taking our campaign seriously. Very light turnout despite many press releases sent out over the past week. We were counting on C-Span 2 to reach one of our target demographics, the age 50-70 overweight shut-in absentee ballot voter. At least a student from McDougal's old high school showed up to do an article for the school paper. McDougal blames me for not setting up the gorilla. Tried to explain that it is impossible to inflate it and load it into the truck at the same time.

Once the trucks were loaded we eased the convoy into Beltway rush-hour traffic. McDougal's bus, the Speedball Express, was in the lead. I followed behind in one of the Jeeps. McDougal insisted we bring several all-terrain vehicles. I don't know what he has on his mind. The itinerary I drew up would only require freeway driving. McDougal insisted on navigating though. We could end up anywhere. This may make it impossible for me to schedule appearances. Very concerned about this.

Because of the illegal nature of most of its cargo the extra truck has been instructed to follow a few vehicle lengths behind the convoy. That way if it is pulled over the rest of the convoy can keep moving. Truck is unmarked. Deny any association with the campaign. (Note: find someplace else to pack inflatable gorilla. Put all weapons and drugs in unmarked truck ASAP. McDougal won't like this. Distraction! Hookers?) One of the interns is driving the truck. Interns are expendable and not on the payroll. Deniability!

We got a great deal on McDougal's bus. It was last used on Dr. Dre's Chronic 2000 tour. Been in storage somewhere in New Jersey. It had a large pot leaf on the side. McDougal actually cried when we painted over it. Had to convince him that the Stars and Stripes will play better in the heartland. I bet if you vacuum between the seats you could empty the contents of the vacuum bag and pack a wicked bongload. (Note: have one of the interns try this.) We mounted half a dozen large waterproof speaker boxes on the roof. They are hooked up to an MP3 player that McDougal has complete control over. I pre-loaded it with his campaign theme, "White Lines" by Grandmaster Flash, and showed him how to load other songs onto it as he sees fit. Hopefully by the end of the tour he will have a good mix going. Currently he has it programmed to play "White Lines" 26 times in a row, then it plays "Fortunate Son" by Creedence Clearwater Revival once, then back to the "White Lines" marathon. The other drivers stuck in traffic around the bus were definitely annoyed.

Fuck 'em. Washington DC is populated by 40% dickheads, 40% eggheads and 20% crackheads. Fortunately rush hour is made up entirely of those first two, because that last group is one of our target demographics.

The McDougal Campaign Handbook (page 1)

Conventional wisdom says that a presidential election is a popularity contest. McDougal wants to take the conventional wisdom, roll it over and fuck it up the ass until it cries for mercy. McDougal doesn't seek popularity. McDougal seeks respectful fear.

The average presidential candidate wants the voters to view him as a trusted friend. McDougal wants the voters to view him as an uncle who's in the Mafia; not someone who you want involved in your everyday business, but when trouble is brewing he will solve your problems without asking a lot of questions and in a way that will make your enemies regret even crossing your path.

Did I ever tell you about how McDougal lost a leg in Vietnam? No??!! Now why the fuck... Oh, I think I was saving this story for Veteran's Day, but then I forgot. And next Veteran's Day is so far away...

Well, McDougal was at a forward recon post in LaChoy (McDougal's memory of Vietnam is somewhat fuzzy, particularly in regards to place names. This is a direct result of the copious amounts of weed he was smoking at the time. It didn't help that he was also deeply involved in a personal scientific study of the psychotropic qualities of various jungle frogs. So now, when he tells stories about Vietnam, if he can't remember the name of a town he just calls it "LaChoy" rather than delay the story struggling to remember the real name. This can be very confusing when he's telling a story about something that happened on "the road from LaChoy to LaChoy" for example) when they came under heavy rocket attack. McDougal burst from his tent carrying his M-60 machine gun and ran to his defensive position. He fired that gun until the barrel melted down. They managed to repel the North Vietnamese assault that night, but at some point during the attack the gooks breached the perimeter and ransacked several tents. One of these was McDougal's. They made off with some inconsequential paperwork, a few maps, ammunition, grenades, other assorted explosives... But what really stung was that they got away with McDougal's leg.

He loved that leg. He didn't like to go anywhere without it, but that night he left it behind in his footlocker. He was afraid it might get damaged during the gunfight. McDougal thought he locked his footlocker before he ran out the door (flap?) but in his haste it must not have latched properly. The leg originally belonged to a Merchant Marine named Johaanson. It was hand-carved teak from India. Johaanson lost his leg (his real one I mean) during the Korean war when his gunboat came under fire. The Navy issued him a substandard replacement leg. It was uncomfortable, wobbly and the hinges squeaked. After joining the Merchant Marines, during a port call in India, he met a craftsman who promised to make him an artificial leg that was almost as good as the flesh and bone that he lost so many years ago. The woodcarver was an Untouchable, blind in one eye and disfigured from being doused with acid by bullies from a higher caste. None of this mattered to Johaanson of course. All he wanted was a leg that didn't rub his stump raw when he walked. And boy did the Indian woodcarver deliver. Johaanson swore that leg was actually more comfortable than the one he was born with. But if he loved that leg so much he should have folded. Instead, one night, while playing cards with a group of mysterious Americans in a Philippine whorehouse, he laid that leg on the table and a mountain of a man named McDougal called his bluff.

To this day McDougal is offering a reward of $75,000 to anyone who can return his leg. Several schemers have tried to pass off fake legs to McDougal. Most haven't been seen since. The real leg has the name of the Indian Untouchable woodcarver burned into the upper thigh in Hindi script, along with the name Johaanson and, underneath those, a small symbol that McDougal himself carved in. He refuses to reveal the nature of this symbol, and uses this as a test for authenticity. So why all this trouble for a leg he doesn't even really need? I've wondered that myself, and I have a theory. See, I've spent some time searching for this leg. It's not that I need the money, but... Well, I'm just curious. Some men search for Atlantis, some for Blackbeard's treasure. Call it a hobby. Two decades ago I managed to track down that Indian woodcarver. He actually remembered that leg too. He said there was a hollow cavity in the thigh. It didn't lock, not in a conventional sense, but it would take a very clever person to figure out how to open it. Someone more clever than that sailor Johaanson. Those gooks probably never even realized what they had. But someone like McDougal, especially with a belly full of mind-expanding frog toxins...

But like I said, it's only a theory...

The McDougal Campaign Handbook (page 36)

The key to out campaign strategy is to make as many wild accusations against our political opponents as possible. For example:

• Our opponent is actually a robot.
• Our opponent had sexual relations with Bigfoot.
• Our opponent was sent back from the future to prevent McDougal from becoming the best President ever.

The reasoning behind this is twofold.

1. If forces our opponent to respond constantly to these bizarre attacks, rather than focusing on the issues, an area in which McDougal is notoriously weak.
2. It draws attention away from the fact that McDougal is a Sasquasexual robot from the future.

McDougal Fast Facts

McDougal carries with him at all times a duffel bag containing his passport, a grappling hook, a fire extinguisher, a boomerang, the Bayonne New Jersey telephone directory and the June 1994 issue of Penthouse Letters.

McDougal was once arrested in Los Angeles on suspicion of selling anti-aircraft cannons to both the Bloods and the Crips. All charges were later dropped under mysterious circumstances.

McDougal belongs to an exclusive club that races surplus Soviet-era submarines in the North Atlantic. McDougal's submarine is number seven and is sponsored by Tide.

McDougal was kicked out of the 1984 World Series when he emerged from the men's room at the bottom of the fifth inning wearing only a "Foam Dome" (fig. 1) on his head and one of those giant foam fingers covering his genitals.

McDougal visited the set of The Hanged Man last week. The only time more drugs were consumed on a movie set was during the filming of The Blues Brothers (1980).

It speaks of this in the Bible

There has been a small outbreak of “zombism” in a small town near the border of Laos in North-Eastern Cambodia.

The culprit was discovered to be mosquitoes native to that region carrying a new strain of Malaria which thus far has a 100 percent mortality rate and kills victims in fewer than 2 days.

After death, this parasite is able to restart the heart of its victim for up to two hours after the initial demise of the person where the individual behaves in extremely violent ways from what is believed to be a combination of brain damage and a chemical released into blood during “resurrection.”

Cambodian officials say that the outbreak has been contained and the public has no need to worry.

General Ary Serey had this to say, "We have obtained samples of this new parasite and plan to learn how it starts the heart and other major organs of the deceased. We intend to use this to increase the quality of life for all."

US Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice opposed the plan saying that the Cambodian government holds a great biological weapon and should destroy it immediately. Cambodian officials have yet to comment.

A United Nations team will be dispatched to Cambodia to confirm the safety of biological research in Cambodia.

McGrammar

The pondercation point was originally addressed by Mr. McDougal several months ago on this blog; however, due to failure of adaptation by the masses, McDougal has requested (nay insisted ... at gunpoint) that we re-address in its own post.

Please note and incorporate into your written vernacular:

The pondercation point is a punctuation mark that fills a critical need in written communication. In spoken word, inflection and tone are used to indicate inquisitive statements. In the written word, however, there is no official punctuation mark to delineate a statement intended as a question (e.g. "I wonder if beverages will be provided.")

With an increasing amount of communication being conducted in written word (e-mail, chat rooms, instant messaging) the need for greater clarity in punctuation drove research grammarians at the "Toughest Guys in the World" think tank in Provo, Utah, to develop a new punctuation symbol using existing punctuation available on a typical Western keyboard.

The pondercation point is represented by the combination of the ~ (tilde) and the `(apostrophe), and is used at the end of inquisitive statements that require an answer from the recipient. Therefore instead of saying, "I wonder if you are lying to me, asshole?" intent is better indicated with the pondercation point: "I wonder if you are lying to me, asshole~`"

Examples:
* Perhaps that happened because you tried to retread my monkey~`
* I wonder if your problem is that their reaction is fueled by the blood of Christ~`
* I thought you were going to kiss my black ass~`

McDougal in the Raw

"Let's get some of that raw fish that them slants eat."

Whenever I hear those words I know it's time to find a sushi restaurant, and fast. McDougal is extremely susceptible to suggestion, particularly when the suggestion is his own. McDougal is an absolute fiend for sushi, but he steadfastly refuses to say the word. I've never been able to figure out quite why. It may be some sort of weird superstition... That's the best I've been able to come up with because his Japanese is excellent. So much so that he is able to order his favorite delicacies using the accent, no matter how subtle and obscure, of whichever city, town or village a given sushi chef hails from. But when he speaks to me of sushi, he always cloaks it in backwoods racism. Now that I think of it, perhaps it is out of contempt for my complete inability to pick up the Japanese language...

Anyway, McDougal's love of raw seafood knows no bounds. Why, one time while we were snorkeling on the great barrier reef, much to the horror of the tourists on shore. McDougal repeatedly dove down to the bottom and emerged with live sea urchins, which he immediately cracked in half and loudly sucked out the still quivering flesh. Actually, this alone probably wouldn't have been enough to horrify all of the beachgoers. Some were no doubt cosmopolitan enough to appreciate the value of fresh Uni. It was McDougal's attire that really got to everyone. McDougal, you see, favors Speedo swimsuits. He is, as I have mentioned before, a very large man. Comedian Drew Carey once said that if he were to put on a Speedo he would look like "a Bartlett pear with a rubber band wrapped around it." That's not a bad description, but it doesn't take into account one factor. The skin of a pear is rather firm, whereas McDougal's is not. Don't get me wrong, there's a full acre of tightly coiled muscle under there, and woe unto the man who forgets that, but the exterior layer is fairly flabby. McDougal is much like a walrus in that respect.

A few of the tourists might have still been unfazed by this display, particularly any who had been to the beaches of Greece where fat men in Speedos are common, but there was just one more thing... The Japanese believe that Uni, the sea urchin, is a powerful aphrodisiac. Personally, I doubt this very much. It seems to me to be more of an exercise in psychology, specifically the power of suggestion. But as I said earlier, McDougal is extremely susceptible to suggestion. So there he stood, glistening in the Australian sun, loudly slurping on a sea urchin's spiny shell, with a massive erection bulging out of the lycra of his Speedo. An image like that burns itself into your gray matter in a way that now amount of drugs, alcohol or therapy can erase.