Now usually, I’m not one to comment on someone else’s appearance, since I don’t pretend to groom myself, each morning, to a standard beyond being allowed into a cattle auction. But last night, on the vice-presidential debates, I couldn’t help but notice some cosmetic “enhancements” on Joe Biden that challenge anything found in nature.
First, his “whitened” smile would dim the lights on a ‘68 Bonneville.
Second, the Botox in his forehead has stretched his skin so tight “taggers” are fighting over who will be first to spray paint an Obama ad on it.
Third, someone needs to tell Joe that he went bald years ago. The telltale sign is the hairless patch of skin, resting quietly behind the field of hair plugs, clinging to the front of his scalp like lichens on lava rock. Hey Joe, YOUR F**KING BALD, either plant the rest of the pasture or mow that sucker.
The only thing that Joe and I have in common is that neither of us look at the back of our heads before we leave the house, while only one of us risks a rear camera shot, while bloviating.