Am I surprised that Bristol and Levi aren't actually getting married? Hell no. I mean, who thought that was going to play out in any way other than how it did? Certainly not me. I may not be the most eloquent speaker or all that politically savvy, but it would take a special class of idiot to believe Alaska's own white trash mascots were bound for a life of nuptial bliss.

Of course, it probably didn't help their chances that I did what I did to that little prick, Levi. On my latest visit back to Wasilla I caught wind of Levi's most recent exploits. To be honest the kid's been off my radar for a long time. I even recalled the goons I hired to follow him around. They were getting bored and the list I've got of people who need their faces rearranged is longer than my arm. The word around town was that Levi had knocked up yet another stupid girl. Lanesia Garcia was her name. What kind of name is “Lanesia” anyway? Geez, people sure do name their kids some stupid things these days. Anyway, I sent the Garcia girl a care package with a few dozen G's in it. Every time Levi gets some girl pregnant I feel partially responsible because I should have castrated the little screw-up the moment I met him.

I was going to leave it at that. Really, it's not like I have time to minister after Bristol's love life. So her philandering ass of a boyfriend or fiance or whatever was diddling girls in the back of the Dairy Queen or whatever. Three words: Not my problem. But then I got a phone call from Todd (even though I've told him countless times not to call me on my travel line). He sounded like his usual idiot self, except I detected a hint of genuine concern in his voice. He told me that Bristol was crying, really upset, not even touching her Butterscotch Tower Sundae. She never resists the Tower. Never. I had my driver swing around to the old homestead... with its stupid, ugly fence and jerky neighbors.

Bristol told me about all the crap she found out about Levi. Poor girl. She thought she was actually going to get married. Well, I can't just watch my girl fall to pieces like that. I called in my boys, the talented ones. They picked up Levi trying to put his moves on some bar back. He and I had a little chat after that. It was in an unfinished basement in, let's say central Alaska, surrounded by medical equipment. I told Levi he could continue to associate with my family if he paid the toll. A jewel or two, that's all I asked of him. When he told me he didn't have any jewels it only took him about 30 seconds to parse my inference. Did he accept my offer? Well, just watch the news. If you see Levi Johnston's name in the same sentence as the name Palin, you've got your answer.