It Will Be a Crime if She Doesn’t Run

I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…

I think I’m beginning to like the idea of Sarah Palin as Presidential candidate. We already know Sarah looks pretty good in a Photoshopped bikini and AK-47. It’s the kind of thing Barack Obama has never been able to pull off comfortably.

Sarah for sure would make a fine Commander-in-Chief. She knows how to muster and inspire the troops. The other day she attended a “real nice, mellow party” that started slow with drinks, gained a little momentum with more drinks, then turned into a real humdinger with the addition of…more drinks, with twenty people, including a passel of Palins, mightily concentrated in a full-blown brawl. In other words, an Alaskan birthday celebration.

The way I heard the story (I think it was in the New York Times), six or seven drinks into the affair, things were going swimmingly when Sarah spotted across the way some damn young man who once dated one of her daughters. He had spread some nasty rumors about the child, as damn young men like to do. I’m not saying sexting was involved, but you never know.

Anyway, Sarah immediately took charge, having spotted that damn young man, and directed her strongest son — turned out he was the only son — to go over there and have some words with the damn young man.

Words were had. Then before you know it a damn young nose was bashed. When that sort of thing happens in the North to the Future State, events go south real quick and a lot of noses get bashed.

Next thing, Sarah turned to her husband Todd, motioned a finger just the slightest, and said get in there, you big lout. And he did get in there. The New York Times helpfully explained the big lout “also races snowmobiles.” Apparently snowmobilers are like that.

Then Sarah, with a mere raise of an eyebrow over a glowering hawkeye, directed Bristol Palin, a different daughter who I think is just a little girl, to get in there too. And Bristol did get in there too, and “threw several punches at the owner of the house where the party was being held.”

“And he deserved it,” Sarah might have whispered to just about anyone at the party. “How dare he invite that damn young man.”

So, having endured several puny Palin punches (or maybe near hits; the New York Times didn’t specify), the owner told the Palins to get the whole damn clan out of there. And they did get out of there, bruised and bleeding and every one of them piling into their stretch Hummer limousine. But not before Sarah, according to the New York Times, fired “several rounds of profanity” across the bow of the remaining crowd, and somehow persuaded her own, fine, young man to hoist a parting one-finger salute (put me to mind of John-John Kennedy’s salute his mom told him to do, only involving fewer fingers).

And as they motored a little wobbily away, someone in the crowd — I don’t really know who — claimed to hear her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight, “Higher, boy, get that thing up there higher!”

Now that, ladies and gentlemen, that’s a President.

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