Just a couple of years ago, Sarah Palin was a fresh young political personality. For battered and depressed Republicans who had just lost the House and Senate in an incredible pileup of corruption and perversion, it seemed like an impossible dream to have a happy, heterosexual family girl win a governorship — even if it was in some shoddy backwater like Juneau. Why, this Sarah Palin might just go all the way to the White House! Except she didn’t, and now she’s washed up.
Thanks to national idiot Bill Kristol, Palin was plucked from obscurity just 18 months after winning the Alaska governor’s race. And then she proceeded to make a fool out of John McCain, while simultaneously guaranteeing the election of America’s first black socialist president. God, she sucked!
And now she’s back home in the snowbilly trailer-trash burg of Wasilla, with her loser husband riding in circles around the house on a snowmobile, all night long, and her unmarried teen-aged daughter raising the grandchild of some random oxycontin dealer, and Trig dressed up like Shrek or something, who knows.
Happy 45th birthday, Sarah Palin! Middle-aged people sometimes say “life begins at 40, or maybe 50,” or whatever, but not in your case. You’re done.