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Gotta hand it to Levi Johnston: the dude has leveraged. He took a random and semi-awkward moment in the political spotlight that, for mere mortals, would have lasted fifteen semi-awkward minutes at the most…and has, like a rugged Rumplestiltskin, spun those moments into (potential) stints as: a memoirist, an actor, and a star of male erotica. And into (bizarrely real) stints as a GQ Man, a condom advocate, a semi-ironic gay icon, and, relatedly, a dater of Kathy Griffin.
So, you know: respect. Or something. Except now we learn that Johnston has added one more endeavor to his ever-expanding list of public pursuits: looks like the studliest dropout in the land is bringing his haiku-like verbal sensibility to bear…as a writer for Vanity Fair. Yes. That Vanity Fair.
Dear Apocalypse: we are now officially ready for you.
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