It used to be that an ambitious, semiliterate Alaskan had just one route to fame: strike it big while pannin’ fer goald and be immortalized in a poem by Robert Service.
But recent history shows that all you have to do is be willing to depart your beloved Meth Capital of Wasilla and either 1) pose for sexy pictures with Runner’s World or 2) pose for sexy pictures with Playgirl and 3) be somehow affiliated with John McCain’s humiliating 2008 presidential campaign, and you too can get your own reality show.
Seriously though any normal sane human would prefer to watch the Levi Johnston show for a million hours rather than look at the perennially bewigged Sarah Palin dragging her rapidly aging carcass across the hinterlands, right?
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