I THOUGHT MY WIFE WOULD SHARPEN KNIVES WHEN MARTHA STEWART BOILED SARAH PALIN

J. Grant Swank, Jr.


She was not ready to hoist our turkey knife-upward either. She was livid. She was after Martha Stewart. For certain.


And this wife of mine is a Martha Stewart loyal royal. She loves her show. Martha says it; it’s true. My wife even tried the recipe mimic.


But no more. When Priscilla learned that Stewart went after Sarah Palin, finis!


Sarah Palin is not God. But Palin is indeed a choice one for Priscilla.


So Stewart was asked what she thought of Palin. I saw it with my own eyes. And as far as I could tell, Stewart’s eyes drooped in a condescending fall. The lids were all but on the floor.


Stewart let it be known in that soft, cutting voice of the elite that Palin was “boring.” Palin is so boring that Stewart would not even care to walk across the street to hear one syllable from the former Alaskan Governor.


Further, Palin is not only stiff board, she’s “dangerous” for any country. Just plain dangerous. She is not good stuff, in other words.


When I told her what media was telecasting, Priscilla was a bit suspicious that I had fallen into hyperbole.


But when Priscilla heard with her own ears those
nasty terms sliding off the kitchen mistress’ tongue, Priscilla just about slid all the knives from her own cabinet onto the fighting field. Priscilla looked to me as if she were after blood.


After all, there are some moral bases that cannot be crossed without battle begun. I guessed in an instant that the garrisons were being called up and children should run for cover.


Stewart, with all her cute phrases and courteous glances toward one show guest or another was now no friend of Wifey. Stewart’s lush pad and come-back from prison cell was no bait for Priscilla’s liking.


And I can’t say I blame her. I go right along with her analysis of the Cooking Queen.


Stewart has lost with us common folk who have brains working for what is decent and logical. Stewart has tightened all the more with the crusty liberals, dittoing their mantras and bedding down with their tripe.


That’s it for Stewart.


Any questions, just ask Priscilla. She’s ready with the verbiage—out and about and up and down and left to right, no end in sight.


Further, as I see her marching up the avenue, I note quite a line of like-minded pot-banging females screaming at the pines.


See video http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/11/22/martha-stewart-calls-sara_n_366810.html