Much of Sarah Palin’s allure seems to fade by each passing talking point of Michele Bachmann’s that goes viral. And with each passing day, Sarah Palin looks more and more like a confused woman who can’t decide which way to go. The last thing our country needs right now is a president who can’t make up her mind or make tough decisions. As Americans, we live in perilous times and what we need is real leadership. Republicans really have a chance to win the White House in 2012. We don’t need to be distracted by Sarah Palin’s attention-seeking antics anymore, unless of course she actually decides to stop flirting and finally make a move to announce her candidacy.
Yeah. Meghan’s an expert on “attention-seeking antics.”
Jay Leno: Are you dating anyone? Meghan McCain: No. I’m in, like, dating Babylon. Like, I go on dates with men and, literally, like Sarah Palin will come up in like the first 20 minutes, and that doesn’t put me in the mood. Like, talking about Sarah Palin. And they just want to know gossip, and I’m just kind of taking a little hiatus from dating right now, because I just don’t want to talk about Sarah Palin.
This is the part of the blog post where normally I’d include some snarky comment about why Meghan’s dating life is really so bad.
However, recent events have caused me to reconsider my ill-advised penchant for juvenile humor. For example, it would be wrong to make fun of Meghan by suggesting that maybe she shouldn’t date guys she meets at the pharmacy while picking up her Valtrex prescription.
So I’m not going to make any jokes like that, because such crude humor would be in poor taste. However . . .
UPDATE: Just to make sure nobody ever forgets that she’s a victim, Meghan McCain reminds the New York Times:
I wake up every morning with large breasts, and it doesn’t affect me. But people had a meltdown when I posted a photo of myself on Twitter. I found such extreme sexism in it. I’ve spent as much of my career having my weight and body commented on as my writing and politics.
Oh, how horrible a fate! To “wake up every morning with large breasts”! And to be hated for it . . .
UPDATE II: While I don’t usually link Wonkette, it’s worth noting this observation: Meghan “is a multi-millionaire and gets writing jobs for which she is utterly unqualified . . . an ultra-rich Republican who is taking writing jobs away from talented non-rich people . . . her ‘writing career,’ which exists solely because her dad is a failed presidential candidate from four years ago.”
In addition to being a celebrity heiress dilettante, Meghan is also the kind of Republican who can be counted on to badmouth conservatives — the only kind of Republican the media actually likes.
“Let the in-fighting continue. . . . I don’t need some blue blooded elites who have accomplished nothing on their own to keep telling me what is right for my country. . . . I don’t need a bunch of spoiled brats who only got into the ‘best’ schools because of what other members of their family have accomplished telling me what is best for me and my country.”
— Monique Stuart
“Blue blood” has a variety of tones to it. Blue bloods think of it as a good term. Often it’s used in a purely descriptive, neutral way — people are objectively “blue bloods.” Same as saying they’re wealthy. Not really open to much debate.
And sometimes it’s used derisively, as in “entitled little beer-empire princesses who supposedly go into Columbia based on nothing but academic potential (wink, wink) and yet never read a single book in which the very common term ‘blue blood’ was used.”
Read the whole thing, and notice that Ace finds himself compelled to defend Sarah Palin even though he’s not exactly on board the Mama Grizzly 2012 Victory Express. Like I say, she’s making the right enemies, and that can be a very valuable asset in politics.
UPDATE I: A great sentence from Monique, summing up the basic problem with Meghan:
Which is a damn fine sentence, although it reminds me of a joke Lewis Grizzard used to tell:
A grad student at the University of Georgia has a research project that requires him to access rare documents available only at the Harvard University library. So he catches a plane to Boston, takes a bus to the Harvard campus and stops the first student he meets.
“Excuse me, sir, could you please tell me where the library’s at?”
“At Harvard University, we don’t end our sentences with prepositions.”
“All right,” says the Georgian. “Then could you tell me where the library’s at, asshole?”
