Tila Tequila is preggers.  Take cover.

So during this season of miracles, everyone’s favorite doosh/famewhore Tila Tequila recently announced her pregnancy via Twitter.

It’s been a busy autumn for Ms. Tequila, who has:

• Accused a man of abusing her
• Defended another man for abusing a woman
• Announced to the world that Rihanna has an STD
• Demonstrated proper tampon removal on Teh Interwebs
• Supposedly got engaged to embattled junkie/Johnson & Johnson heiress Casey Johnson

How does this multitasker do it?

More importantly, how likely is it that she’s really pregnant?  Tequila claims that she’s acting as a surrogate for her brother…which begs the question:

Is her brother utterly insane?

It’ll be a goddamned miracle if that child isn’t born caked in lesions, Mystic tan and a UStream account.

What the biscuits?

Well, we all knew it was coming.  It’s the celebrity way.  Call someone a faggot, or a nigger, or a sugartits (so sweet and tasty!), and just go to rehab!  That’s how celebrities get it done:

In a last-ditch effort to save his marriage, a shell-shocked Tiger Woods will check into rehab to seek treatment for his sexual compulsions and prescription drug use, insiders have told The Enquirer exclusively. The disgraced golfing great agreed to get help at an Arizona clinic after spending the Christmas holiday with his family, say sources. The serial cheater’s decision to get therapy is part of a deal struck with his stunning wife Elin to persuade her not to dump him.

“Elin gave Tiger an ultimatum — seek treatment or forget all about winning her back,” revealed an insider. “Rehab is at the top of the list of things he must do. Tiger will be going into rehab in early January to treat his sexual compulsion and his use of the drugs Ambien and Vicodin.”

First of all, ambien?

Second of all, ambien?  REALLY?

Finally, I’ve never understood the obsession with forcing people to go to rehab just for acting like an asshole.  Are they going to some sort of Asshole Ashram?  Are they sitting in the lotus position while chanting ohm mani padme so sorry for being an asshole?  Seriously, y’all.  Where is this Asshole Retreat?  I know a couple people who should go there.  Hell, I ought to go there every once in a while.

Cripes.

Tiger has really stepped in it, hasn’t he?  He was this goody two shoes-lookin’ fool and now I look at him and all I think is strippers, and whores, and golf, oh my!   And really, when was the last time you thought “golf” and immediately thought “whores”?

Never?

That’s what I thought.

Doosh Thunderdome: It’s votin’ time.

So, whaddya reckon?

Serena Williams?

I'm a doosh in a catsuit!

Delonte West?

I'm a shirtless doosh!

Terrelle Pryor?

I'm a doosh in a horseshoe!

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Terrelle Pryor: Doosh Dossier

This year has visited a groundswell of doosh upon the hapless heads of Hags and Squeeple alike. A torrential outpouring of vinegar so vast in scope and relentless in attack that it can relate to only this: the countless acts of dooshery, douchestacity, and douchebagelry with which we, in the People’s Republic of Thundersquee!, have been forced to reckon. It ain’t pretty people. We’ve had Kanye Interruptus; Carrie Preach-jean; Jon “Ed Hardy” Gosselin; Rush Oxylimbaugh; Glenn Crazy Eyes Beck; and the list goes on.

Here’s how it will work. For the next couple of weeks, we will recount some of the dooshes catalogued in our year-long category aptly titled “Doosh Watch 2009.” We will then pit the dooshes against each other in the Thunderdome. And you, dear squeeperson, will vote for your least favorite doosh, or-if you prefer a phrase more semantically accurate-the dooshiest doosh as between the dooshes.

Put on your protective goggles, squeeples. You do NOT want to look any of these dooshes in the eye.

So here’s what you do: Assess the dooshery based on our prior blog posts throughout the year and any independent knowledge you may have of a particular doosh’s dooshiness. And then vote! It’s as easy as saying… something that’s easy to say.

We will provide a doosh dossier on each of three Doosh of the Year Nominees throughout the day. Then at the end of the day (8 p.m. PST-ish) that day, we will open the polls for voting. You vote for the dooshiest of the three. And at the end of the doosh round robin, we will pit our final three nominees against each other and award a Giant Bag of Doosh to our Douche of 2009. Stay classy, squeeple!

Next up are Serena Williams, Delonte West and Terrelle Pryor or as we at Thundersquee! like to call them, the doosh athletes who shouldn’t be allowed to talk.

Terrelle Pryor

Okay, some people will say you should cut this guy some slack because he’s young.  But I say if you’re old enough to serve our country in a friggin’ war, you should be old enough to put together a few coherent thoughts.  And no, saying “everyone kills people” is not a coherent thought.

To be fair though, that quote doesn’t quite do his dooshiness justice.  First of all, he was defending Mike Vick.  That was mistake No. 1.  Mistake No. 2 follows in its entirety:

“Not everybody’s the perfect person in the world. I mean everyone kills people, murders people, steals from you, steals from me, whatever.”

Also, here is a video of him doing what he does best:  Inserting his foot into his mouth.

We are left speechless from this ridiculousness, when HE is the one who shouldn’t be talking.  And this makes us angry.

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Delonte West: Doosh Dossier

This year has visited a groundswell of doosh upon the hapless heads of Hags and Squeeple alike. A torrential outpouring of vinegar so vast in scope and relentless in attack that it can relate to only this: the countless acts of dooshery, douchestacity, and douchebagelry with which we, in the People’s Republic of Thundersquee!, have been forced to reckon. It ain’t pretty people. We’ve had Kanye Interruptus; Carrie Preach-jean; Jon “Ed Hardy” Gosselin; Rush Oxylimbaugh; Glenn Crazy Eyes Beck; and the list goes on.

Here’s how it will work. For the next couple of weeks, we will recount some of the dooshes catalogued in our year-long category aptly titled “Doosh Watch 2009.” We will then pit the dooshes against each other in the Thunderdome. And you, dear squeeperson, will vote for your least favorite doosh, or-if you prefer a phrase more semantically accurate-the dooshiest doosh as between the dooshes.

Put on your protective goggles, squeeples. You do NOT want to look any of these dooshes in the eye.

So here’s what you do: Assess the dooshery based on our prior blog posts throughout the year and any independent knowledge you may have of a particular doosh’s dooshiness. And then vote! It’s as easy as saying… something that’s easy to say.

We will provide a doosh dossier on each of three Doosh of the Year Nominees throughout the day. Then at the end of the day (8 p.m. PST-ish) that day, we will open the polls for voting. You vote for the dooshiest of the three. And at the end of the doosh round robin, we will pit our final three nominees against each other and award a Giant Bag of Doosh to our Douche of 2009. Stay classy, squeeple!

Next up are Serena Williams, Delonte West and Terrelle Pryor or as we at Thundersquee! like to call them, the doosh athletes who shouldn’t be allowed to talk.

Delonte West 

For those of you who don’t follow the NBA with any sort of regularity, let me just tell you:  This man is kind of psychotic (though in a good way).

Oh sure, he’s a mercurial player at the point guard position, and a true difference-maker for a Cleveland team that was simply Lebron and the seven dwarfs before he arrived.  But can he really get his sh** together and help Cleveland win a championship?  That we’re not so sure about.

The reason for this are manyfold, though most of them have something to do with him being a complete nutbar.

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Serena Williams: Doosh Dossier

This year has visited a groundswell of doosh upon the hapless heads of Hags and Squeeple alike. A torrential outpouring of vinegar so vast in scope and relentless in attack that it can relate to only this: the countless acts of dooshery, douchestacity, and douchebagelry with which we, in the People’s Republic of Thundersquee!, have been forced to reckon. It ain’t pretty people. We’ve had Kanye Interruptus; Carrie Preach-jean; Jon “Ed Hardy” Gosselin; Rush Oxylimbaugh; Glenn Crazy Eyes Beck; and the list goes on.

Here’s how it will work. For the next couple of weeks, we will recount some of the dooshes catalogued in our year-long category aptly titled “Doosh Watch 2009.” We will then pit the dooshes against each other in the Thunderdome. And you, dear squeeperson, will vote for your least favorite doosh, or-if you prefer a phrase more semantically accurate-the dooshiest doosh as between the dooshes.

Put on your protective goggles, squeeples. You do NOT want to look any of these dooshes in the eye.

So here’s what you do: Assess the dooshery based on our prior blog posts throughout the year and any independent knowledge you may have of a particular doosh’s dooshiness. And then vote! It’s as easy as saying… something that’s easy to say.

We will provide a doosh dossier on each of three Doosh of the Year Nominees throughout the day. Then at the end of the day (8 p.m. PST-ish) that day, we will open the polls for voting. You vote for the dooshiest of the three. And at the end of the doosh round robin, we will pit our final three nominees against each other and award a Giant Bag of Doosh to our Douche of 2009. Stay classy, squeeple!

Next up are Serena Williams, Delonte West and Terrelle Pryor or as we at Thundersquee! like to call them, the doosh athletes who shouldn’t be allowed to talk.

Serena Williams 

Finding words to decribe her epic rant on a female line judge – a rant that ultimately cost her a U.S. Open championship — isn’t exactly easy.  Especially after our own stopthemadness did such a great job of summing up earlier this year (Serena Williams will kill you).  So perhaps video will tell the tale best:

Among the jewels she blessed the world with, perhaps the most damning of all was the initial threat itself:  “If I could, I would take this fucking ball and shove it down your fucking throat.”

That’s the kind of thing we might say to someone if they’re threatening our family or raping our sister.  The calm-headed Williams used it during a tennis match.

Charming.

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Doosh Thunderdome: It’s votin’ time.

So, whaddya reckon?

Rush Limbaugh?

I'm a doosh with a cigar!

Megan Fox?

I'm a doosh with a stupid tattoo!

Sarah Palin?

I'm a four-eyed doosh!

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Megan Fox: Doosh Dossier

This year has visited a groundswell of doosh upon the hapless heads of Hags and Squeeple alike. A torrential outpouring of vinegar so vast in scope and relentless in attack that it can relate to only this: the countless acts of dooshery, douchestacity, and douchebagelry with which we, in the People’s Republic of Thundersquee!, have been forced to reckon. It ain’t pretty people. We’ve had Kanye Interruptus; Carrie Preach-jean; Jon “Ed Hardy” Gosselin; Rush Oxylimbaugh; Glenn Crazy Eyes Beck; and the list goes on.

Here’s how it will work. For the next couple of weeks, we will recount some of the dooshes catalogued in our year-long category aptly titled “Doosh Watch 2009.” We will then pit the dooshes against each other in the Thunderdome. And you, dear squeeperson, will vote for your least favorite doosh, or-if you prefer a phrase more semantically accurate-the dooshiest doosh as between the dooshes.

Put on your protective goggles, squeeples. You do NOT want to look any of these dooshes in the eye.

So here’s what you do: Assess the dooshery based on our prior blog posts throughout the year and any independent knowledge you may have of a particular doosh’s dooshiness. And then vote! It’s as easy as saying… something that’s easy to say.

We will provide a doosh dossier on each of three Doosh of the Year Nominees throughout the day. Then at the end of the day (8 p.m. PST-ish) that day, we will open the polls for voting. You vote for the dooshiest of the three. And at the end of the doosh round robin, we will pit our final three nominees against each other and award a Giant Bag of Doosh to our Douche of 2009. Stay classy, squeeple!

First up are Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin, and Megan Fox or as we at Thundersquee! like to call them, the Pig, the Lipstick, and the Pig in Lipstick.

Megan Fox

How dooshy is Megan Fox?  So dooshy that our own KeeblerKahn has been grappling with her for months. But she kept fighting back.  She floats like a butterfly, stings like a doosh.  Frustrated, Keebler even declared A Day Without Megan Fox, earlier this summer.  Megan Fox was unmoved; even that didn’t stop her.

Later that summer, we thought maybe she would undermine us by dressing real classy-like.   Maybe she’ll de-dooshify.  We all crossed our fingers.

We were, of course, fucking idiots.  in spec-doosh-ular fashion, she turned down the opportunity to star with Daniel Craig in a Bond movie.

Then she stupidly informed us she might be schizo (doing a great disservice to those who actually ARE schizo).

And then she railed against Michael Bay, the one dude who saw through the doosh and helped make her a star (even if, as Lily the Pink noted,  Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen was a bowl of stupid.)

Finally in a spectacular nuclear holocaust of doosh, she went and did an interview with Rolling Stone during which her cup of doosh ranneth over.

Keebler wants her to STFU.

Stopthemadness wants to punch her in the vagina.  (Oh and there’s the faux appearance anxiety and the “ZOMG!, am I ugly?” bullshit.)

Lisa(#1), after pointing out her diarrhea of the mouth earlier this year, adds these doosh points:

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SARAH PALIN: Doosh Dossier

This year has visited a groundswell of doosh upon the hapless heads of Hags and Squeeple alike. A torrential outpouring of vinegar so vast in scope and relentless in attack that it can relate to only this: the countless acts of dooshery, douchestacity, and douchebagelry with which we, in the People’s Republic of Thundersquee!, have been forced to reckon. It ain’t pretty people. We’ve had Kanye Interruptus; Carrie Preach-jean; Jon “Ed Hardy” Gosselin; Rush Oxylimbaugh; Glenn Crazy Eyes Beck; and the list goes on.

Here’s how it will work. For the next couple of weeks, we will recount some of the dooshes catalogued in our year-long category aptly titled “Doosh Watch 2009.” We will then pit the dooshes against each other in the Thunderdome. And you, dear squeeperson, will vote for your least favorite doosh, or-if you prefer a phrase more semantically accurate-the dooshiest doosh as between the dooshes.

Put on your protective goggles, squeeples. You do NOT want to look any of these dooshes in the eye.

So here’s what you do: Assess the dooshery based on our prior blog posts throughout the year and any independent knowledge you may have of a particular doosh’s dooshiness. And then vote! It’s as easy as saying… something that’s easy to say.

We will provide a doosh dossier on each of three Doosh of the Year Nominees throughout the day.  Then at the end of the day (8 p.m. PST-ish) that day, we will open the polls for voting. You vote for the dooshiest of the three. And at the end of the doosh round robin, we will pit our final three nominees against each other and award a Giant Bag of Doosh to our Douche of 2009.  Stay classy, squeeple!

First up are Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin, and Megan Fox or as we at Thundersquee! like to call them, the Pig, the Lipstick, and the Pig in Lipstick.

Sarah Palin

(1)she believes in death panels–you betcha!;

(2) she doesn’t care about Asian people;

(3) she needs The Shat (Bill Shatner) to interpret her nonsense;

(4) she quit her job;

(5) she gets burned in effigy;

(6) her daughter’s baby daddy doesn’t like her;

(7) she has dumb supporters;

(8) she even pisses off Fox News!

And Lisa(#1) specifically, raises these doosh points:

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Don’t start booking your TV apology tour just yet… it’s not as effective when you’re divorced

Well, looks like Elin Nordegren is cutting her losses and leaving Tiger’s philandering slutty ass.  She’s filing for divorce.

According to Radar:

Tiger Woods’ wife Elin has decided to file divorce papers, RadarOnline.com is reporting exclusively.

Too many women and too many lies have pushed her over the edge. The financial terms of the split are going to take a while to work out, but as of right now Elin has made up her mind that she can no longer be married to Tiger, a source familiar with the situation told RadarOnline.com.

“She’s not going to let Tiger talk his way out of this,” the source said. “There’s nothing he can say to erase years of betrayal.”

At least 14 women have been sexually linked to Tiger since Rachel Uchitel was first revealed as Tiger’s mistress for the past five months. When Tiger’s affair with Uchitel became public it led to a bitter fight that ended with Tiger driving his car into a fire hydrant and tree.

Ding dang, Tiger.  One or two out of wedlock penis adventures might be forgivable.  But last I checked, the count was up to, like, 14, and on top of that, the media is reporting that you are rushing to pay off Rachel Uchitel in order to keep her from releasing text messages and voice mails that indicate that she was more than your bang buddy.  She might have been an actual love interest or some shit.

I think your wife might have been able to forgive a couple transgressions–banging some whores or strippers or porn stars as most of the women who allowed you entrance into their cave of shame and disease were.  But actually falling for one?  Texting about leaving your wife?  Telling your mistress that you only married your wife to boost your image?  No.  Nein.  Nyet.  Is no good.  No bueno.  No whizzle fo shizzle.  No wai.  OMG.

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RUSH LIMBAUGH: Doosh Dossier 

This year has visited a groundswell of doosh upon the hapless heads of Hags and Squeeple alike. A torrential outpouring of vinegar so vast in scope and relentless in attack that it can relate to only this: the countless acts of dooshery, douchestacity, and douchebagelry with which we, in the People’s Republic of Thundersquee!, have been forced to reckon. It ain’t pretty people. We’ve had Kanye Interruptus; Carrie Preach-jean; Jon “Ed Hardy” Gosselin; Rush Oxylimbaugh; Glenn Crazy Eyes Beck; and the list goes on.

Here’s how it will work. For the next couple of weeks, we will recount some of the dooshes catalogued in our year-long category aptly titled “Doosh Watch 2009.” We will then pit the dooshes against each other in the Thunderdome. And you, dear squeeperson, will vote for your least favorite doosh, or-if you prefer a phrase more semantically accurate-the dooshiest doosh as between the dooshes.

Put on your protective goggles, squeeples. You do NOT want to look any of these dooshes in the eye.

So here’s what you do: Assess the dooshery based on our prior blog posts throughout the year and any independent knowledge you may have of a particular doosh’s dooshiness. And then vote! It’s as easy as saying… something that’s easy to say.

We will provide a doosh dossier on each of three Doosh of the Year Nominees throughout the day.  Then at the end of the day (8 p.m. PST-ish) that day, we will open the polls for voting. You vote for the dooshiest of the three. And at the end of the doosh round robin, we will pit our final three nominees against each other and award a Giant Bag of Doosh to our Douche of 2009.  Stay classy, squeeple!

First up are Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin, and Megan Fox or as we at Thundersquee! like to call them, the Pig, the Lipstick, and the Pig in Lipstick.

Rush Limbaugh

(1) he’s oh so easy to dislike;

(2) he rules RNC Chairman Michael Steele with a pudgy oxy-filled fist;

(3) he thinks Mexico tried to infect us with pig AIDS;

(4) he makes assholic statements about Sonia Sotomayor and her heritage;

(5) he makes dickish comments about Henry Louis Gates, Jr. being a black militant;

(6) he inspires WTF!?-ism with his musings on  Tiger Woods;

(7) he thinks people who exercise are fucking up the health care system;

(8) he blames Obama for Mark Sanford’s affair;

(9) he blames Obama for Michael Jackson’s death;

(10) he is a racist fuckwit;

How dooshy do you think Limbaugh is?  Ponder the case we’ve made throughout the year, and add your own musings in the comments section.

(Stay tuned throughout the day as we make our case for Sarah Palin and Megan Fox.)

Put on your protective doosh gear, squeeple.

Perez Hilton is named Hispanic of the Year. 

Hispanic Magazine named semen artist Perez Hilton “Hispanic of the Year.” I’ll give y’all a minute to let that Nugget of No Fucking Way sink in.

Perez Hilton is an ass who bring exactly jack and squat to the table, other than a keen ability to ingratiate himself to the celebrities he used to make fun of.

I used to read Perez Hilton. Back when he was pagesixsixsix. Back then, he castigated Paris Hilton on the regular, and I kept reading because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Paris Hilton deserves to be castrated. I mean castigated. What did I say earlier?

But then Paris got her hooks in him and he became her BFF.  After that, it was all over.  Perez’s modus operandi became “get me into a party and hang out and take pictures with me or else I’ll draw a cum stain on your face and tell everyone you’re gay.”

I find it offensive as a person who knows a lot of Hispanic people (heh) that this magazine would name this fucktard Hispanic of the year, instead of say, SONIA FUCKING SOTOMAYOR.

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Douching, I mean duking it out

Michael Lohan has accused Jon Gosselin of “stabbing him in the back,” because he had a business arrangement with Gosselin in which he allegedly would act as what sounds like a freelance agent for Gosselin–he would get Jon work in return for a percentage of his fee–and Gosselin reneged.

“Jon knows what the deal was. I kept him out of harm’s way… and he stabbed me in the back,” Lohan told Access. “When you open your door to somebody and you give them a safe haven and a place to go and then they turn around and bite the hand that feeds or stab you in the back, that doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Jon has hurt a lot of people in his life, ” Lohan added. “I feel bad for him.”

I want to be happy that these two de-combined their wonder-doosh powers, but I can’t help but be a little sad.  A doosh force of that caliber would have surely eclipsed Speidi. Then again, it might also have eclipsed the sun and caused the earth to enter an eternal state of vinegar winter.  So now I’m torn…

This is me not caring.

Last week, Chris Brown got his underroos in a bunch when he found out that a bunch of retailers, including Wal Mart, were refusing to stock his new CD Graffiti on their shelves.  Like any pissed off person with too much time on his hands, he took to  Twitter:

-” im tired of this shit. major stores blackballing my cd. not stockin the shelves and lying to costumers. what the fuck do i gotta do…- WTF… yeah i said it and i aint retracting shit - im not biting my tongue about shit else… the industry can kiss my ass.”

Wal Mart was all, “huh?” and released a statement:

“All Walmart stores nationwide have carried the CD since its release, including the Wallingford, [Conn.], store mentioned in the post. This store actually sold through its initial shipment over the weekend. The majority of our stores today are showing they do have copies available.”

Yesterday, Chris Brown took it to the streets Twitter again:

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Personally, I think Barack the Magic Negro is catchier

Matt Fox and AJ Rice, a couple class A dillholes posted the following over at Human Events, a website which touts itself as the “Headquarters for the Conservative Underground”:

Illegals in my yard.
Illegals in my yard.
Illegals in my yard.
Sixteen arrive in a stolen car[...]

They’re getting free organ transplants this Christmas.
They’re going to have anchor babies this Christmas.
They’re going to scream “sí, se puede” this Christmas.
Those illegals in my yard[...]

They’re going to spread bubonic plague this Christmas.
They’re going to bring me lots of bed bugs this Christmas.
They’re going to pass tuberculosis this Christmas.
Those illegals in my yard.

Aaaaaand, as soon as your head is finished exploding, take a gander at the comments section.  It’s enough to make me want to set myself on fire.  The only bit that saved me was this comment gem:

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If you don’t think Sarah Palin is qualified to be President…then you’re probably gay.

You betcha!

Or at least according to the legions of whackos in the comments section of Free Republic.

The GOP has a problem… the howling and screaming coming from the most insanely neocon faction of its party is growing louder. That voice includes the mind-numbingly annoying shriek of Sarah Palin who, despite being totally incompetent, looks like a likely candidate for either the GOP or for some nascent Tea Party Party, even though members of her own party refuse to say out loud that she is qualified. It’s like saying “Bloody Mary” three times in front of a mirror; the likelihood is that nothing bad will happen, but it’s best to keep your yap trapped on the off chance you’ll turn around and find some crazy lady humming the Battle Hymn of the Republic while wielding a bloody knife rifle.

Last month Haley Barbour, Mississippi Governor and President of the Republican Governor’s Association wouldn’t/couldn’t say she was qualified. A couple days ago, House Minority Whip Eric Cantor also dodged the question.

People. SHE’S NOT QUALIFIED.

Here’s how the exchange should go when a question about Sarah Palin’s presidential qualifications is posed:

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T Minus 12 Days Til Christmas

I like Christmas music. With the exception of one Christmas song that I think should be purged from recorded history. The song is Christmas Shoes by a Christian group of fart-knocking douchebags called Newsong. Now I’m not going to post the video for it. I’m only bringing it up on the first day of the count down to get it out of the way.

I think Newsong should be dragged into the Applebee’s parking lot for a public bricking.  The song actually makes me angry when I hear it. It has to be the most emotionally manipulative piece of crap to ever be put to music. Well it turns out Patton Oswalt and I feel the same way about the song.

You might want to be careful watching this at work. Patton uses some naughty words.

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Sunday Night Foot-Bale with Faith Hill

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Because opinions are like assholes - and sometimes they ARE assholes.

Expert on the black experience, Rush Limbaugh, took to the air yesterday to describe the “black frame of mind“ for his listeners.  You see, African Americans are being kept down by The Black Man, rather than just The Man.  What is this based on?  A soundbite from Jesse Jackson, of all things.

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Continues to suck.

Sam Tanenhaus’s review of Sarah Palin’s book Going Rogue is worth a read.  Buried in his review in the New Yorker (soooooo deliciously elitist), one can find this crispy fried morsel of WTF:

Palin, though notoriously ill-travelled outside the United States, did journey far to the first of the four colleges she attended, in Hawaii. She and a friend who went with her lasted only one semester. “Hawaii was a little too perfect,” Palin writes. “Perpetual sunshine isn’t necessarily conducive to serious academics for eighteen-year-old Alaska girls.” Perhaps not. But Palin’s father, Chuck Heath, gave a different account to [Scott] Conroy and [Shushannah] Walshe [authors of 'Sarah From Alaska']. According to him, the presence of so many Asians and Pacific Islanders made her uncomfortable: “They were a minority type thing and it wasn’t glamorous, so she came home.”

Words can’t describe the degree to which this woman chaps my ass.