Just ask his schoolmates…
A classmate, Malcolm Matheson, described him as a “tough, mean little fucker”, according to Robert Timberg’s ‘The Nightingale’s Song.
McCain’s nicknames at Episcopal High School in Alexandria, VA, were Punk, Nasty and McNasty.
Prior to attending EHS, McCain was bounced from school to school as a result of his father’s military career. McCain wrote of his early education in his autobiograpy.
My first purpose during my brief stay in these schools was to impress upon my classmates that I was not a person to suffer slights lightly. My second purpose was to prove myself as an athlete. When I was disciplined by my teachers, which happened regularly, it was often for fighting.”
McCain, Faith of My Fathers, p. 100.
Another friend at EHA also described The Punk..
Rives Richey, one of his closest friends back then, remembered McCain as rambunctious and combative, at times “just repelling,” the type of kid who had a few good pals within a student body that either actively disliked him or gave him a wide berth. “He was considered kind of a punk,” said Richey.
His good friend and wrestling team mate went on to say…
“You know, frankly, honest to goodness, if they’d have rated everybody in the class for likely to succeed, I guarantee you he’d of been in the bottom ten, without any question.”
The “Bottom 10” was, as it turned out, too kind as McNasty went on to place 894th in a class of 899 at Annapolis. For those keeping score, that’s “Bottom 6”. According to Wiki, McCain had conflicts with higher-ups, and he was disinclined to obey every rule.
A free spirit, McCain chafed under the strict rules of the academy. Each year, he was always in the “Century Club,” students with more than 100 demerits.
It was mostly small stuff: messy quarters, unshined shoes, reporting late to formation, things like that, recalled Gamboa, who roomed with McCain for three years.
“He and I, we got a lot of demerits,” Gamboa said. “It was almost impossible not to.”
Source: Arizona Republic
After graduating (barely) McPunk packed his craziness in his ditty bag and shipped out to Pensacola, Florida where he hung out in strip bars and was banging a dancer by the name of “The Flame of Florida,” who reportedly cleaned her nails with a switchblade she carried in her purse.
Now get this, he brags about this behavior…
“I enjoyed every single moment of my life here, from learning to fly to blowing my pay at Trader Jon’s.”
Qiute the shining example for our Nation’s youth. At least Bush had the brains to have his Dad wipe his record clean and to STFU about his “unruly passions of youth” and “nocturnal sojourns”.
Amazingly, his handlers think this is a plus in his column…
None of these confessions were muttered accidentally. After McCain dropped the line about the strip club in Pensacola, I asked Mark McKinnon, the campaign’s media advisor, if drunken escapades at strip clubs were a good message for a presidential campaign.
“That’s why we like him,” McKinnon said with a smile.
“That’s why he has potential appeal to young people.”
Source: Time Magazine
Well kiss my ass and call me Betty. His message to our Nation’s youth is to be punks, whore mongers and mean little fuckers?
And the fuckin’ Press just eats this shit up!
Is it because he’s “The Maverick”?
Is it because he’s a cute cuddly, harmless old codger?
Here’s. Fuckin’. Why.
Journalism is not a profession or a trade.
It is a cheap catch-all for fuckoffs
and misfits – a false doorway to the backside of life,
a filthy piss-ridden little hole nailed off by the building inspector,
but just deep enough for a wino to curl up from the sidewalk and masturbate like a chimp in a zoo-cage.”
Fuckoffs and misfits just like “The Maverick”