Palin and Me: Ice Skating Naked. Moonshine. And Alaskan Police Folk. Episode 7.

Dinner with the Palins this past week was a slight-jog down memory ski-slope with a rifle slung over my shoulder and Wasibilly moonshine in my flask.

Todd and I got to talking about the last time I had the home-made juice from a rotten orange. It feels good to sit around with old friends, and reminisce, you know? I couldn't stop laughing as he told the story of when I started figure skating with nothing but a Gymnastics ribbon to cover my nipples to make sure my male breasts weren't suddenly sexualized by Western Culture. But it was Summer.

And what I thought was ice was really just an elementary school playground, so when the cops tried to apprehend me, I hot-wired a Zamboni and drove across the Arctic circle for a good seven weeks before they finally caught up.

LOL. LMAO. ROFLMAO. ROFL. GAHAHAHAHA. HEHEHEHEHE. TEEHEHEHEHEEHEEHEHE. OHOHOHOHOHOHO. HO HO HO. Every other city we go.

I can't even control myself as I write this! What better way to communicate unrestricted laughter than to type out a string of acronyms and consonant-vowel combinations.

Full collection of my Non-non-fiction documentation with Sarah Palin and the family here.