I want to see Baracky and Hill go boca a boca with bar food and drink. I want to see them slam boilermakers. I want to see them eat pickled pigs feet and pickled eggs.
To what tests of non-elitism would you like to see the candidates subjected?
I mean, this is a start, but . . . no Chicken Dance?
UPDATE: Mrs. Clinton sucks up to Pennsylvania “Dutch”. Coincidence? h/t Reynolds
UPDATE x2: Information about Sturgis 2008; it’s Aug. 4-10, so that still leaves a couple of weeks before Denver.
UPDATE x3: In case anyone’s forgotten Hillary supporter Elton John at Harley’s 100th Birthday Bash, here’s a reminder of this most hilarious of PR debacles.
UPDATE x4: Mike Hendrix:
It’s a brilliant idea, and one I should’ve come up with myself. But…she’s going to have to keep her shirt down, that’s all there is to it.
Eat a plate of Rocky Mountain oysters.
I don’t mind there being elites in our society, so long as they just quit pretending not to be. FDR was as aristocratic as Americans can get, and you didn’t see him trying to pass for regular folks.
Have a real job.
A marathon of monster truck rallies, hot dog eating contests and camel races.
The wet t-shirt contest is out of the question, though.
I think they should try noodling.
Wendy’s chili.
I think they should be forced to make their own Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich, using nearly-empty jars of Jif and Welch’s, so they have to reach and dig and get PB&J on their knuckles.
John Kerry (who served in Vietnam, by the way) should be the official taste-tester. It’ll be like Christmas in Cambodia all over again.
Monster Thickburger.
Explain pit strategies for a NASCAR race.
As a onetime resident of Pittsburgh, I recommend and Imp ‘n’ Iron slamming competition.
Failing that, competitive eating with anything from Pimanti Brothers.
God, I miss Pittsburgh!
I think after 3-5 shots of strong liquor nobody is an elitist.
We all become small town bitter/happy folks.
I am elitist when I am sober.
But if somebody is an elitist and thinks about me that I am not and need his advice, I pretty soon start resent this guy with all my small town attitude.
Carin, that technique works along riverbanks, too, in those recessed undercut overhangs; although you have a better chance of reaching in and pulling out a cottonmouth.
The Aggregate Service Rifle competition at the National Matches at Camp Perry. The candidate with the highest number of X’s gets the Democratic nomination.
I think they should give each other blumpkins. The winner would be . . ., well there would be no winners only survivors.
Hmmm. All my entries are about eating and drinking.
So, given recent comments, let’s see either of them field strip an M9, or an M1911A1, if they’re not into the whole brevity thing.
Or name the price of gas at the local QuikTrip. Or the price of a loaf of bread, gallon of milk, etc, at Publix. (Whoops! More food.) Name when they last filled out their own 1040. What was their property tax bill last year? How many homes do they have? Cars? Chauffeurs?
Attend, stay and eat at an ethnic food festival.
I’d reccommend the Day of Portugal festival in New Bedford, Mass.
Bon dias!
elitism is a philosophy – one which I subscribe to. but I think the term “elitist” has been sullied. I think what is meant is they are friggin snobbish latte drinkin self-absorbed bastards. and as socialists, they are decidedly not elitist.
Is having them face off on “American Gladiators” low-brow enough?
I would like to see them spend one week without putting down America.
I would like to see them both smoke a cigarette in a bathtub full of gasoline.
but fine. I would like them to spend one week with my kids. especially when they want to play “last one in bed is a Democrat”. Nuthin like hockey-fights in the Root home.
Challenge #1: Making Sure It’s Not Loaded.
Which is what we call an “elimination round.”
Hunt and shoot a deer themselves, while on camera.
Take the CTA to work.
Wait in line for something, like at the DMV.
Ride in a Shriner motorcycle parade while wearing a fez.
Timed competition using a leaf-blower.
Be the judges at a Texas chili cookoff.
Chili # 1: Mike’s Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.
JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor Very mild.
OBAMA: Holy smokes, what is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that’s the worst one. These people are crazy……
Gut and clean anything that they shoot (or pretend to shoot) like Kerry’s geese and Hillary’s duck that she shot one time back in Arkansas.
First one to drink a mug of instant coffee without gagging; wolf-whistling contest; mercy-kill injured dog found lying in road with shovel and load on to back of pick-up
#20 is the winner. Thanks for playing.
I’d kinda like to see Hillary dance the Cotton-Eyed Joe. Cankles flyin’ left and right.
Too bad they did away with the Snake Pit at Indpls Motor Speedway, and parking on 16th St the night before the race. Talk good old-fashioned debauchery!
Maybe hang out one night at the Alley Cat.
Or they could try driving themselves to the grocery and doing the shopping on their own. Prefferably on a Sat afternoon, in a zip code with high senior citizen population. And then use the self checkout.
I wonder how many of those shopper-savings tags they have on their keyrings? I assume they have keyrings.
Riding to Sturgis and partying with them all week would seal the deal for me.
Belvedere – Excellent suggestions.
Garage Sale!
Cook their own moonshine and sell it. In West Virginia.
Honestly, I thought Hillary’s duck was downed by sniper fire- am I misremembering ?
Matt Esq: Go get some sleep. :-)
Riding to Sturgis and partying with them all week would seal the deal for me.
Hillary explaining sun burned boobs would kinda fun.
And a bunch of non-PC tats.
Boca a boca?…
I think I’ll skip lunch.
I wanna see ’em do laundry.
I want to take them both catfishing on the banks of the White River. We’ll drink Old Milwaukee (slightly warm) and eat SPAM sandwiches on white bread with Miracle Whip. The beer and the sandwiches will taste a little like the Off! we’re coated with to combat the skeeters.
For bait, we’ll use either chicken livers or my own stink bait recipe.
First one to scream and run has to clean the fish.
I’d keep it simple. Make them judge livestock at a county fair; walk through the stables, walk around the judging pens. The first one to scrape their footwear loses.
Good Lord, Mike! If that’s the measure of regular folk, put me down for ‘elitist’.
Two words: Chewin’ tabacky.
I want to take them both catfishing on the banks of the White River. We’ll drink Old Milwaukee (slightly warm) and eat SPAM sandwiches on white bread with Miracle Whip. The beer and the sandwiches will taste a little like the Off! we’re coated with to combat the skeeters.
For bait, we’ll use either chicken livers or my own stink bait recipe.
Can I go, too?
I had an Uncle used to do that under the overhang on the creek bank noodling for fucking snapping turtles. According to him, they dig holes to sleep in and always crawl in headfirst. I never went with him to test the theory, but he did have all his fingers.
Moe, your comment reminds me of a t.v. episode where the host (not Steve Irwin, I can’t rmember his name) was wandering around the Louisiana swamps and within just a couple of minutes of each other, walked straight up to a cottonmouth and picked it up and then dove into the waters to retrieve the biggest friggin snapping turtle I’ve ever seen.
Seriously, the damned thing had to weigh at least 50-75 pounds.
Wendy’s chilli?
How come up here in Yankee country, Wendy’s doesn’t have the “All You Can Eat” Mexican bar like they do in Nashville?
If he then killed and ate them, it was “Survivorman”.
[…] Back in April I suggested a variety of ways in which candidates might prove that they weren’t elitist, including by going to Sturgis. […]