I was on tv fuckers even if it was the gay channelWhat's up you motherfuckers!? I don't actually care so consider that a retorical question.
I hope you all watched me on the Kassie Griffith show on Gay TV (Burfer Channel???) this week. Kassie came up to Wasilla and took a look at my pimp ass house I share with my roomie Dane. Yall ain't heard me talk about him in here much except for the time I told you we pulled his bad tooth by tying a rope to four rotweillers and the time we got in a headlock standoff over the last superpretzel. I won because my neck gets all sweaty if you put anything on it for more than like 30 seconds. Same reason I can't wear turtlenecks or zip my fleece up all the way.
Anyway, Kassie seemed to get pretty turned on by my house that I bought with the settlement money over that slip-no-sign on the walk up to the library. Supposed to salt or put up a visible sign, bitches, but your loss is my gain. Sorry, Wasilla Library. I guess the taxpayer money is gonna have to go to my lamp and entertainment center instead of 30 more books on CD for that guy up on Prospect whose house got time warp stuck in 1995. I'm sure he can make do with back issues of popular mechanics. More like unpopular mechanics. Moon house by 2002 not quite dumbasses.
Kassie got a little upset about the four bears I killed with rifles and the two I killed with bear spray and a leister and a rete. It turns out theres a loophole that says if you can kill a bear with a trident bear hunting is 365 legal in Alaska. It was put in there by a congressman from anchorage who got jerrymandered into an all net-fighting gladiator district so all his laws are about loopholes for those dudes and anti-gladius stuff to keep out the secutors from juno. You got to preserve your heritage and besides I'm like 1/15th net-fighter on my mom's side.
After the house tour Kassie had me do an interview with Playgirl which was pretty much so she could talk up how much I love gay dudes and my butt pictures.
Whatever. I will sit there and talk about my butt and gay dudes all day I don't give a fuck. What do you think I am insecure? I literally threw a trident into a bear's face and then cut off all its skin and put it on the wall of my empty-ass house. Shouldn't be empty-ass after that slip and fall lawsuit wraps up and also got a lawsuit filed with that friday late nights football tv show for ripping me off for some fag called tim riggins. I mean I appreciate putting me in your show but I am pretty sure TV law says you gotta pay me license fees plus also football sucks forever I play hockey.
After all that nonsense we went ice fishing with my buddy chad. You heard all about him because me and him and tucker used to go out behind tucker's house and tucker has the conan sword, ninja stars, the sword from highlander that sean connery used, and the braveheart sword which is the one I always call and we throw swords at a junker car with no tires parked out in the back yard. I am pretty much pro on the braveheart sword and I'm working my way up on the conan sword. You'd think a sword would just slice straight through an 83 ford bronco but it takes 15 or 20 hits just to cut a door in half. Swords are pretty much BS but you feel awesome throwing them.
Ice fishing was fun but Kassie sucked at it bad. All of her jokes are how I do her non stop and pound her round until its ready to break open like a dinosaur egg. I did her once when I was on her show before and it was like humping toilet brushes somebody melted a brown crayon over. Takes a few more smirnoff ices than 10 to get me into that scene. On the other hand she did bring up this plus size cutie name slips my mind but I destroyed her like it was 9/11 up in that crease and I decided her cervix had too much freedom. I've seen kids come off of 6-hour pony rides at a birthday walk better than her. Hopefully she tripled up on the birth control in The First 48 because after that the odds of solving a baby problem drop way down.
Couple other things I got to address here. First of all I want to give a shout out to my boy Al Gore. You drawling lactonic weather-talking motherfucker. Looks like the inconvenient truth is you can be staying at the almost presidential suite and you can't even talk your way into a handy from a girl who has probably beat off more dudes than Jackie Chan. Opened up the lockbox and waved it around at some massoops and all you got was a 2006 criminal complaint.
Hu-whoops! Little tip on how to play it. Just tell the girl your thigh has been cramping up and when she starts massaging that you just lay it over her hand like a dead snake. If she doesn't go to town on it right then and there then maybe yall need to start hanging out at better and/or way worse hotels.
Gulf oil, fuck it, I forgot what I was gonna say except I read the beeps was burning turtles which is pretty fucked up. Does that even work? Let's get a turtle car in here see how it compares to one of those electricity cars. If it turns out Donatello runs machines and Raphael is cooler than crude I bet you the beeps has a technodrome inside a week.
Oh, yeah! The other thing was I saw this shit on Paris Hilton's website:
"Bristol and Levi are still very close. Now that Mama Palin is out of the picture and Bristol is on her own in Anchorage, they spend more time together than most people think. Levi even stays overnight. I think they are back together."
I don't know why she gives a fuck, but Paris, baby, you're wrong. Boning on mrs. palins bed (after I disabled todd's two hidden cameras w/ motion sensor shit) for like 90 minutes does not mean we are getting back together. Hell I have broken up with girls in the middle of boning them before. So, yeah, we did it like a couple of wizards in a magic battle, but my advice is get your facts straight. You'll know we're back together if you ever catch a picture of me and todd standing within ten feet of each other and he's not crying and having blood shoot out of his busted nose and lips. I will feed him the letters off a maple leafs jersey if he tries to get near me until then.
Anyway fair warning to all of yall.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
Levi "HOckey" Johnston is a pro writer now and hockey expert since forever. He comments regularly on family life, politics, Alaska, hockey, vag, babies, babes, 4x4s, hunting, and stuff like that. Oh, yeah, and he was engaged to Bristol Palin and had one (two) kids with her, so...I can put anything here? He also fights like a devil and pounds poon like a demon. He's pretty much unbelievable. His life is a raw adventure to the root.