TBogg

The Blow Job Not Taken

It’s hard not to imagine Levi Johnston as a blossoming real life “Rabbit” Angstrom as he approaches marriage to his baby’s Yo-Yo mama to be followed by an empty unsatisfying existence attached to this family of snowgrifters. With his youth hockey stardom quickly receding in the rear view mirror, bank account nearly empty after his brief fling with fame, and a (now) nouveau-riche white trash family of snowbillys who never saw another persons dollar that they didn’t want to pocket threatening lawsuits, he probably figured it was easier to join them rather than be haunted for every penny he will ever make working at a gas station to pay his child support bills.

Only in Alaska could a kid leave the family homestead run by a mom meth dealer and move down the social ladder by marrying into a former half-governors house. But such are the wages of sin when you boink the governors daughter in the backseat of your Camaro instead of settling for the front seat blow job. Sure, you could blame it on the Hurst shifter that got in the way, but avoiding pregnancy is all about making good choices and Levi chose unwisely.

In choosing to make an honest woman out of Snowpack Snooki, Levi may have hoped for a sincere and warm Mama Grizzly hug into the family, but Sarah Palin is as thin-skinned as Abe Foxman at Oktorberfest and  she is not one to forget slights no matter how small. Witness her “statement” about the nuptials:

“Bristol, at 19, is now a young adult. As parents we obviously want what is best for our children, but Bristol is ultimately in charge of determining what is best for her and her beautiful son.

Bristol believes in redemption and forgiveness to a degree most of us struggle to put in practice in our daily lives.

We pray that, as a couple, Bristol and Levi’s relationship matures into one that will allow Tripp to grow up graced with two loving parents in his life”

Nice.

Now imagine holidays at the Palin family compound as Levi, Bristol, and little Tourniquet or whatever the hell his name is, make their way through the Palin yard cluttered with broken snowmobiles, old waterbed liners, and taxidermy mishaps, only to be greeted at the door by Gramma Sarah with ” Bristol! Tourniquet!..oh….. Hi. Levi.”. Sarah’s nose wrinkling like she just smelled a moose fart, those lines around her pursed lips deepening even further with disapproval.

And remember this: she controls the purse strings for her shiftless family dependent upon her celebrity.

This is what you are signing up for, Levi Johnston.

This is your future and it is pretty fucked up.

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TBogg

TBogg

Yeah. Like I would tell you....

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