Deep End | Sarah’s Pipeline: First Dude Todd Palin spills the oily gossip. | News | Salt Lake City | Salt Lake City Weekly

Deep End | Sarah’s Pipeline: First Dude Todd Palin spills the oily gossip. 

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We caught up with Todd Palin, Alaska’s First Dude and consort to beauty queen and politician Sarah Palin, at the Salt Lake City International Airport, where he had a stop-over en route from Anchorage, Alaska, to Paris, France. Mr. Palin insisted we have our chat in the glassed-off smoking section so he could enjoy a few cigarettes before his 10-hour flight to Paris (throughout the interview, Mr. Palin, dressed impeccably in his bespoke Rigatoni suit, smoked continuously, stopping only to insert a Marlboro Light into his elegant cigarette holder, “a gift,” he informed us in his languid, almost supercilious manner, “from the late Prince Egon von Bustenhalter, who became deathly ill after ingesting one of Sarah’s moose burgers.”) n

After getting comfortable, we turned on the tape recorder and made final adjustments on our gasmask. What follows is a redacted (for national security reasons) transcript of our interview.

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Deep End: Are you happy the campaign is over?

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First Dude: Happy? I don’t think happy is quite the word to characterize my emotions at the present moment. I should say a more precise word would be ecstatic.

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DE: That surprises us. It would seem disappointment would be the prevailing emotion.

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FD: I feel like a new man.

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DE: We thought you seemed different. Maybe it’s because you’ve shaved off your mustache and goatee.

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FD: The whiskers were fake. The boys from the McCain campaign said the First Dude must have whiskers, so every morning a make-up girl came to my room and glued on the goatee and mustache, whisker by whisker. It took two hours. But the make-up girl and I became very good friends.

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DE: Tell us what it was like palling around with John McCain.

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FD: Boring beyond belief. Wake me when it’s over, I used to mutter under my breath. The guy told the same jokes over and over, and I had to pretend to laugh my ass off. It was hell. It was never-ending. In fact, the other night I tuned into Jay Leno and there was old John recycling the same old gags.

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DE: How about your wife? Did Governor Palin hit it off with the elderly senator?

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FD: She said it reminded her of the old days when she had to suck up to the old coots who judged her beauty pageants. He couldn’t keep his paws off her. It got really bad when Mrs. McCain started hanging out with Joe the Plumber and John needed someone to talk to.

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DE: Did it make you jealous?

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FD: Are you serious? It just took pressure off of me to have to stand around grinning like an idiot. And Mrs. McCain and I were able to spend some quality time together, if you know what I mean. By the way, the rumors about her and Joe the Plumber have no basis in reality. Everything about him was fraudulent, and I mean everything, if you get my drift.

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DE: Now we’re on the subject, could you address the rumors about your wife having an affair with your business partner Brad? Everyone says he was a good listener, and you were always out riding your snow machine through the Arctic wastes.

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FD: Listen, pal, my wife drove me nuts! I got out of the Governor’s Mansion every chance I could. You heard her on TV; the words just spill out of her like an oil leak in a pipeline, gooping up your mind till you don’t know if you’re coming or going. ‘Geez, Todd, doggone it,’ she’d say, and I’d just mentally check out, if you get my drift.

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DE: You are now off to Paris. Can we conclude you won’t be returning to Alaska any time soon?

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FD: Hey, I put in my time. Now it’s my turn. It’s payback, and I’m going to go out and enjoy the finer things of life.

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Alaska? Do you have any idea how cold it gets up there? After my trip to Paris, where I’ll be the special guest of Madam Sarkozi, I’m heading to the French Riveria to lie in the sun with Andrea Mitchell of NBC.

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DE: What are your long-term plans?

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FD: I’m mulling over offers with my agent. I’m leaning toward Dancing With the Stars. After that, the sky’s the limit.

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DE: God bless America!

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FD: You betcha!

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D.P. Sorensen writes satire for City Weekly.

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