Saturday, June 29, 2002

Martha Stewart: Sing Sing Prison Bitch

I am amusing myself, picturing Martha Stewart in some funky NYC prison after being convicted for insider trading, and doing her 'Martha Stewart Living Show' from the pokey, so the proceeds can help defray her megamillion dollar fine.


(Enter: Martha clad in an orange jumpsuit, with fall leaves stenciled at a jaunty angle over one shoulder. Her prison number is in burnt umber, Copperplate Gothic Bold type.)

Good morning. Today, my assistants ChaCha and Shandalier are going to help me show you how to brighten up a Saturday brunch.
We have on hand some powdered eggs, some frozen grated potatoes called 'hash browns,' some lovely white, thinly sliced bread, and some fragrant coffee crystals.

(ChaCha): Yo, Martha don' ju forget abou' da oleo and we gots some jam in little packages too, yo.

(Shandalier): Whatup, what we need is some-bleepin-bleep-mutha-bleepin bacon grease to fry up some of this powdered motha-bleepin-egg-bleeped-up whatevah the -bleep- this -bleepin-bleep is suppose to be.
MStew, can you just ax them to get us some -bleepin- Bisquik and maybe a orange or sumphin?

(Martha): We have taken empty lavatory tissue cores and cut them in half with our serrated plastic knives, then decoupaged (with a powdered egg glue) some found objects we gathered from the outdoor recreational area to serve as napkin holders.
Note the lovely antique patina created by the egg wash.
(Shows finished napkin holders to camera)

(Shandalier): They smell like bleepin rotten bleepin eggs, girl.

(Cha-Cha): Shanda, don' be raggin her for her art, bitch, she tryin to make da joint more pleasan. Don't be such a bleepin puta, you ho skank.

(Shandalier): Bleep you, mothableeper, you just wanna make her your bitch and you be all kissin her ass and up in her face an all that.

(Martha): We have taken laundry marking pens and some classic corrugated board to create lovely calligraphied placecards, to make each guest feel as honored as they are.

(Shandalier rips a placecard in half, ChaCha slaps her in the head with Martha's DayTimer. Stray eggwash flies into Martha's hair. Shandalier rips Cha-Cha's jumpsuit.
Martha decks Shandalier.)

(Cha-Cha): Oh Martha, papi, are ju okay, baby?


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