What Did We Learn Yesterday At The DNC?

This isn’t going to be a totally great post, fucking sue me, but I need to get something for you before we jam out of our slick Airbnb to go do Other Shit, like get thrown out of the Axios party.

It Is Not Very Hard To Get Kicked Out Of A Politico Party Apparently

But here’s what I can tell you about yesterday.

The secondary site for daytime events, over at McCormick Place (the convention center, which is not where the nighttime speeches are held), wasn’t very fun and we didn’t like it, and we’re not going back. (Although the “expo” for buying awesome shit from local Chicago people was cool. But THAT’S ALL.) We couldn’t find a beer and everything was miles away down unpleasant hallways and empty rooms that Evan (obviously) made very funny jokes about we found the REAL Kamala rally just like Trump said.

We split up for the evening, with Evan and Robyn going to see Lizz Winstead’s abortion COOCH show, and Shy, Dok, and I heading over to the United Center to see Old Handsome Joe and the Swan Songs.

Joe Biden Wanted For Arson After Burning Barn At DNC

It took … an hour? More? To get into the United Center. It’s hard to get VERY MANY MORE THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE than showed up for Trump’s convention into one place at one time. Once we were in, we discovered we had the wrong combination of passes to get into the hall where you could sit and actually watch the speeches, and Dok needed a seat. So Shy and I stayed in the “arena” (the hallway but not the hall) and … stood there. There was AGAIN no beer unless you were in a private party, but we are neither US Mayors (we shouted at the Mayors party to send Duggan out, but they did not listen. “Karen Bass? How about Karen Bass!” but they did not acknowledge that either) nor “creators.” Here were the “creators.”

*That* child got to have beer.

We found our dear Charlie Pierce sitting in there — there was nowhere to sit inside if you did not have a pass to get into the actual hall — and after I joined him, they kicked me out. Then Weigel joined him and they let him sit there for about 15 minutes before kicking both of them out too. Are we “creators”? Madams, we are three of the preeminent bloggers of the last 20 years! We invented political blogs! So no then. That’s a no.

Here’s how we watched Hillary’s speech. We heard it was good.

We stalked people in the hallway a bit; here is Rep. Pramila Jayapal for whom we laid in wait while she used the women’s room. That’s some stalking! She was gracious. Maybe because we did not actually follow her in and accost her there.

We saw Swalwell and said we had to get a pic for Evan from Wonkette, and then another lady, I suppose a friend of his, came over and made a big show of making fun of us for getting a selfie with him, screeching in a falsetto, “OH I NEED A SELFIE TOOOO” and he laughed and told her she was such a dick. I was embarrassed, so I did not accost Ruben Gallego or the back of Mark Kelly’s head for a picture too.

We were tired of standing in the hallway, it had been a long day, and all the wine was back at home.

But on our way out we saw Qasim Rashid, who’s a lovely fellow and nobody made fun of us at all for wanting to take a picture with him. You should follow him on Substack (that link back there); he’s a good writer and person, and had the proper respect for us, Your Wonkette.

So that was better then! We trudged off and got to our slick-bitch apartment just in time to watch Joe Biden from the comfort of this marvy couch, as is right and proper.

Goodbye!

For Beer (If We Ever Find It)