Da Chipster!  (with additions by Barb in DC and TexasEllen)

The 40th Republican National Convention is nearly upon us, four whole days of angry white villagers in funny hats holding a pep rally to elect the most regressive ticket since Strom Thurmond/Fielding White in 19 and 48.  Their snarky theme will be “why, yes, I DID build this by myself,” but in a spectacular display of unintentional irony theatre, they’ll be holding it in an arena built with GOBS of government gilt.

So, if spending the week before Labor Day weekend contemplating the potential Presidency of a guy who never labored a day in his life is enough to drive you to drink… well, then, you might as well do it up right.

Try my RNC drinking game.

First, a couple of house rules:  if you are watching network coverage, which is shorter, it’s preferred to use hard liquor shots.  If you are watching extended coverage and/or have future plans for your liver, shots of beer or wine are acceptable.

The order of drinking begins clockwise, but can change direction.

If you point at someone you must use your elbow, unless they are a Romney supporter, in which case you may also use your ass – they don’t know the difference.

If you miss your turn and get called on it, double the drink penalty, unless you immediately blame the lamestream liberal media for your gaffe.

If they tout Mitt as a “job creator” – drink one shot.

If they show a token minority – drink one.

If they show the same token again – drink two.

Basic hypocritical statement – drink one.

If they show Ann – drink two, one for each Cadillac.

If they blame Democrats/Obama for something that is the Republicans’ fault – choose someone else to drink.

If they push a position that Mitt has flipflopped on – CHANGE DIRECTION.

If they mention the 2002 Winter Olympics – drink in a luge position on the coffee table.

If they mention Massachusetts – yell “NORM!” and drink.

If they mention Bain – claim to have had a drink retroactively.

If they mention Ronald Reagan – drink.

If they mention Dubya – FREE PASS.

Seeing this guy, who appears at every GOP convention because he’s the only black guy ever there, two drinks and a “Lookie, Mabel, there’s that black guy again!”

Your rules can vary, but the result should be the same:  a rip-roaring drunk, followed by a Technicolor yawn of Niagara proportion, followed by a passed-out face-plant into a bowl of Cheeto dust, followed by a hangover so bad it sets off alarms at the CDC.

Which is pretty much how I’d spend every night of Romney’s putative putrescent Presidency.

For safety, sobriety and sanity sake, you can add  cup of coffee for every favorable comment about Barack Obama.  Also, glass of V8 for any praise of Michelle Obama.  Don’t bother to brew that coffee until the opportunity is presented.