I dropped down into stealth mode after some incidents in the library where I might have punched out a child and also ran a ball and cup hustle on a bookreading by some author who writes stupid davinci codes shit.Yo, yo, yo alright I got to get to this shit because I don't have a lot of time this week. Apparently you get a warrant put out on you if you threaten a screwdriver death on some douchetank from Fish and Wildlife with a serious hard on about three year expired hunting licenses when you're just trying to feed your damn family and put some bald eagles on the table. Also apparently having a warrant means you're gonna get the evil eye from the librarian when you use the public computer to look up buttholes on google image.

Look lady, I'm sorry netnanny's castle crumbles over here when I unleash some Hustler vocabulary. Yes show me a snizz and some cooch gapes thanks google.com. And quit hovering over the printer like all these close-up lady pictures are for you. If I wanted to show you some down south parts I'd hit the V-cro strip on the sides of these track tearaways and nail you in the shusher with my easter basket.

In the meantime I have been doing my New Years revolutons for next year. I ran a rampage on 2010. Tore up the turf and left fools yoked and hypercoloring some ice on 2009. And 2008 looks like I turned zoo snails loose all over its silk sheets. Girl you should have told me if you didn't want my business in your small clothes. Now it's time to turn this juice loose on 2011. Another year, another chance to make it big. And this year I am making some plans.

Revolution 1: Forget I ever saw Tron

What sort of 1995 mario kart bullshit was this? Thank GOD I was getting ribbit BJed from Ponita Clarkpatrick in the back row of this turkey. 3D more like 1D throwing frisbees around and riding videogames at Matrix ladies wearing neon signs. If I ever meet the dude who thought up this movie I am going to knock him out, put his ass in the street, and drive over his legs and arms so he can never walk anywhere or write anything again. Also gonna run a linda hamilton op on the dude who invented the wheelchair talking computer thing like what Roger Ebert has so tron fucker can't even dictate a pretzel order to the guy runs the pretzel cart that sells only pretzels.

Revolution 2: Get my babies back

yeah happy birthday trog guess who wasn't there. Also guess whose airsoft guns he stole weren't even allowed to be given to him because of some spacious claims about eye damaging. Meanwhile the palins smoked this boy crazy chinese wtfBristol is trying to move to arizona and split up the fucking family. Meanwhile up north Todd is crawling out from his harry potter stairhole and trying to refuse me visitations on Trad. The palins have caged heat on their hands and shit is about to get raw up in the w-town if they don't let me take my kids blackwater rafting.

Yes, the chuchoochee runs through the tar sands and yes there may have been some fracking disaster that happened in 2008 that turned the entire river into battery acid sludge but my boys need to learn about nature and shit. Beards and wolves and flannel you wear under vests full of shotgun shells. I want to teach my boys how to baseball bat fight a bear in the wild. I want to teach them which color of pill you can step on and snort to get smarter for like 8 hours. I want to teach them how to hit the trailer park and tell which trailers are cookers and which are running some greasy business out of the back like letting you take pictures with a dead body of an old lady or letting you pee on a retarded girl in a bathtub. If you can't deal with some straight up gummo science then you aren't prepared for my world. I got to raise my boys right.

Revolution 3: Buy a Rolls-Royce Phantom

I am sick of driving around on this vespa I stole off a charcoal artist I might have put a baby inside that goes to community college in Palmer. Yeah, she was fun to talk to because she had craazzzy weed baggies in her apartment, but when we got down to the business I might as well have filled a sack with pudding skins and rolled it around on the floor of a lumberjack barbershop. It was like doing it with the exact feeling I used to get when I was a little kid and on Christmas my weird uncle would kiss me on the mouth. Wicked sleep-farter too. On the plus side she was so used to ripping raunchy she must have gone half deaf because I got her keys and took her vespa no problem. Point is, I need new wheels, and according to a search at the library on google.com looking up "best car" I got this and the Toyota Corolla and one answer has got to be wrong. Rolls-Royce Phantom is my ride.

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About This Column

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.

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