And now all I can hear is that music, and suddenly everything just fucking...
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Rahm Emanuel
@MayorEmanuel
Your next motherfucking mayor. Get used to it, assholes.
Chicago, ILJoined September 2010
Rahm Emanuel’s Tweets
I can see a thousand fucking skylines, and they are all as motherfucking glorious as the first, and I can feel the touch of my friends.
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Quaxelrod flies over, and dips his little head, touching my fading shoe. Hambone just curls softly between my invisible legs.
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Carl the Intern can't even make eye contact, but he's reaching out, and I touch his hand. And he says, "I love you," and I say "I know."
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And that song's still playing from the car radio, on a never-fucking ending loop from hell.
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And I can see myself starting to fade out, and I hear Axelrod whispering the fucking Kaddish quietly to himself, tears streaming.
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And then the sky fucking opens up on us, and there's chunks of ice flying down. And it's pretty clear that the party's over.
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FUCK YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKING TIME VORTEX. I FUCKING LOVE DANCING WITH MY FRIENDS.
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And we've pulled the Civic over, turned up "Separate Ways," and we're fucking dancing out here on the motherfucking streets!
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We're driving down Elston when, all of a fucking sudden Axelrod's radio starts working. It's playing that fucking Journey song!
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Picked up Carl the Intern at Lane Tech, after his mathletes practice. Carl's first words: "There's not much time left." Motherfuck.
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Knowing I'm entering a time vortex tonight would be a lot more tolerable if I could get Journey's "Separate Ways" out of my fucking head.
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Tossing bread to Quaxelrod under the Cortland street bridge. The view from here is motherfucking incredible.
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Driving around in Axelrod's Civic, doing loops around the block outside Chico's offices, my ass hanging out of the missing window, laughing.
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Watching Axelrod eat at Manny's is like watching Da Vinci paint the motherfucking Mona Lisa: a work of art.
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And we sit down and plan out one last, perfect, day: Lunch at Manny's, mooning Chico, tossing fucking bread to Quaxelrod.
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And we hug, and I give Axelrod that look that asks, "Are you going to be OK?" And he gives me that look that says "Who fucking knows."
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"There must be something we can do..." But there's not. Only things that fucking suck never end: look at laundry, or dishes.
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Axelrod looks up, tears filling his eyes and says, simply, "don't go." Fucking time portals are a son of a bitch.
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We're sharing a cup together in the crawlspace, and I can tell that Axelrod's trying not to cry by the way his mustache fucking quivers.
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They'd better have coffee in the parallel fucking dimension I'm descending into tonight, or I'm breaking right back out.
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Motherfucking coffee, I'm going to drink you like there's no goddamn tomorrow.
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This party's going to go all fucking night. Fuck you, tomorrow, you're just gonna have to wait.
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And I dive into the crowd, and their hands hold me up, and together we are fucking one.
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"But tomorrow is tomorrow, and TONIGHT'S A FUCKING PARTY. LET'S GO CHICAGO!"
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"And sure, to save the fucking world I have to disappear into a time vortex tomorrow. But being mayor is about making hard decisions."
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"Through everything-- through assholes, through cockholes--I've had two things: The people of Chicago, and my fucking friends."
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"I've held the motherfucking pulsating heart of Chicago in my hands, and I know that it beats true."
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"I've slept in an igloo and I've slept in a crawlspace and I've slept under a bridge. But as long as I was asleep in Chicago, I didn't care.
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"I've learned that this is Chicago and that CHICAGO DOESN'T FUCKING QUIT, NOT FUCKING EVER."
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"But to the rest of you, I've talked with a fuck-ton of you and I've learned about your resiliency, about your spirit."
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"The motherfuckers that contested my residency, you've got some great days ahead of you, I fucking promise you that."
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"FUCK YES CHICAGO! This has been a long fucking campaign. The other assholes didn't stand a chance, but they put up a good fight."
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Quaxelrod soars down from the balcony and lands gently on my shoulder. I stroke his downy fucking feathers and begin.
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Turns out crowdsurfing your way up to a stage takes a long fucking time. OK, victory speech--let's fucking do this.
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I'M FUCKING RIDING ON THE BODIES OF THE MEN AND WOMEN OF CHICAGO, AND I FUCKING LOVE EVERY ONE OF YOU.
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Fuck the fucking champagne slide, I'm just going to jump out of this fucking window and bodysurf to the fucking stage.
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Axelrod and I are double-fisting beers right now, smashing the empties on our foreheads. IT FEELS FUCKING GREAT TO BE ALIVE.
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Elected mayor tonight. Sucked into a time vortex tomorrow. Might as well KICK THIS PARTY OFF RIGHT FUCKING NOW.
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Carl the Intern just ran in, with a notebook full of fucking numbers, his eyes wet with tears. "The time vortex: It'll close tomorrow."
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