Because nothing says “I’m a big, tough Alaskan man” better than naming your kid after a gun. Or a really shitty car from the 80′s. See Exhibit A:
And of course, Exhibit B:
No, it’s apparent that Alaska is famous not only for its oil and having LeAnn Rimes and Eddie Cibrian film their love movie there, but for its bevy of stupid names (Breeze Beretta Johnston … Track Palin … Piper Palin … Trig Palin … Tripp Johnston), too.
From the Huff Po:
Levi Johnston’s second child will be a girl named Breeze Beretta, his pregnant girlfriend, Sunny Oglesby, told Inside Edition in an interview to air Wednesday. Beretta is the name of an Italian firearms manufacturer, and Oglesby confirmed that the child will be named after a gun.
She also talked about the accidental nature of the pregnancy.
“We were out at the cabin for like, four days, and forgot the birth control,” she said.
Johnston told Inside Edition that he plans on doing things differently with Oglesby than he did with Bristol Palin, the mother of their son, Tripp.
“I’m actually in love…not doing it just because we had a kid together,” he said.
Bristol Palin has been vocal in criticizing Johnston for being an absent father. She recently told In Touch she is “upset” he is having another child already, and that she worries Tripp could be teased at school.
“I don’t want him to go to elementary school with 10 half-siblings,” she said. “That would really affect him.”
Yes, because going to school with half-siblings never happens. Jesus, Bristol, f-cking move, then, if you’re so worried that your son’s developmental milestones are going to be deeply shaken by the fact that maybe—just maybe—his daddy’s a skank.
As for you, Levi Johnston, you’re just weird, OK? YOU’RE WEIRD.
Finally, I have a personal story about a Beretta that I just can’t shake. See, one of my high school boyfriends drove a navy Beretta, and he was a really nice guy. And it goes to show, I was a heartless little shit back in high school, too, because one time? We were on our way out to meet some friends for lunch one weekend when I noticed that my already-anal-retentive boyfriend had a change organizer strapped to the driver’s side sun visor, and I immediately began laughing and poking fun at the fact that he was seventeen years old and rocked a change organizer on his visor like he was some sort of grandpa going on a road trip and needed easy access to his toll money. I wasn’t, you know, trying to be malicious or anything, but he actually pulled the car over on the side of a busy street (where there was no curb to pull over to), and he cried. Guys, I almost died. I didn’t know what to do. What the hell are you supposed to do with a seventeen-year-old boy who’s crying over a change organizer? We broke up shortly after that.
He’s an airline pilot today, and even though I haven’t seen him in over ten years, I’m pretty sure it’s a safe bet to make in saying that I’d probably ask him if his plane has a change organizer on its sun visor.
You know, for all those tolls he probably has to pay.