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“Dick Bulger: Make CB Great Again (and Put Me on the Quarter)”

When Dick Bulger announced his campaign to Make CB Great Again, the entire ham and CB radio community went into a static-filled frenzy. His slogan, shouted through a dented Cobra 148 GTL with a cigarette dangling from his lip, was simple:

“We’re takin’ back Channel 19 from the libtards and the truck GPS mafia!”

Nobody really knew what that meant, but it sounded patriotic enough. His rallies—usually held in the parking lots of roast beef shops and defunct RadioShacks—drew enormous crowds of grizzled operators clutching mic cords like rosary beads.

Dick promised everything:

  • Free SWR meters for every citizen.
  • Mandatory AM-only transmissions after midnight.
  • A new holiday called ‘Breaker Breaker Day.’
  • And of course, a wall of copper wire to keep out ham operators.

The people loved it. They called him “The Voice of the People’s Mic.” He called them “My Frequencies.”

Election day came, and against all odds—mostly because the other candidate, “Wisconsin Cheese Cutter,” was found unconscious in a hot tub full of nacho cheese—Dick won in a landslide. The FCC begged him not to take office, but he swore on a stack of QSL cards that he’d clean up the airwaves.

That’s when things got weird.

Instead of improving CB radio, Dick immediately redirected all federal communications funding toward a single goal: getting his face on the U.S. quarter.

“I been sayin’ it for years,” he told the press from the backseat of his car (his official residence). “Washington had wooden teeth. I got three real molars and a mouth fulla fillings. I’m more metal than him already.”

The Treasury Department tried to explain how the coin design process worked, but Dick wasn’t having it.

“Look, we can keep the eagle,” he said, waving a half-eaten onion ring for emphasis. “Just put my mug on the front—maybe me in my scally cap, winkin’. That way when you flip a coin, it’ll say Heads or Dick.”

Within weeks, the Make CB Great Again movement devolved into chaos. Ham operators defected. Truckers were confused. The citizens of Revere started trading “Bulger Bucks,” which were just photocopies of quarters with Dick’s face drawn on them in Sharpie.

At one point, the U.S. Mint’s website crashed after Dick posted a tutorial titled “How to Melt Down Your Spare Change and Make Freedom Coins in a Frying Pan.”

By the time Congress held hearings, he was broadcasting 24/7 from the White House basement, his CB set wired into the national emergency alert system. Every American phone buzzed with his voice:

“Breaker one-nine, this is President Bulger. I repeat—there will be NO tax on roast beef sandwiches. And also, I look great in nickel.”

He was impeached two weeks later, not for corruption, but because he tried to personally autograph every quarter in circulation.

Still, to this day, you’ll sometimes find a vandalized coin in a Boston laundromat with a little scally cap drawn on Washington’s head. Locals call it “a Bulger.”

And whenever someone flips one for luck, they say:

“Heads or Dick?”

Because in the end, Dick Bulger did make CB great again—just not in the way anyone expected.

Would you like me to turn this into a fake political ad transcript or a newspaper article next? Either one would make a great follow-up.

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