Michelle Hopenchange, we all know you're the media darling, fawned over for the slightest morsel of insight to what your favorite color is, whether or not you like tiger or zebra stripes for the new upholstery, and if you prefer Fiddy Cent over Puff Daddy. Yeah. Thanks. We get that. But no matter how much of our tax dollars you spend on garish clothing and bling , you still paint the picture of a malcontented oaf out of place in a setting that requires understated confidence and social decorum (at least until the President Dress-Stainer showed up in '92).
Frankly Mike, I'm embarrassed to even acknowledge that you're residing in the seat of power of the free world. It's not that you're Black (who cares?) ..it's just that you represent the Sista Souljah element of the Black community. You exude a latent pissed-offedness through every pore, especially the ones around your witch-like eyebrows. I'll bet Barry spends a lot of time on the couch when your pork skins don't show up on time. You like snappin' those clawed fingers for maid service, do you? Payback time, ain' it?
As a little reminder of what class used to look like before you came clomping down the red carpet, take a look at what real grace, real beauty is. And no matter how much you try, you will never get there.
Classic Beauty:
An a**-load of Booty:
See Mitch, Jackie Kennedy actually looks like a woman:
And then there's you:
Probably the ugliest legs we've ever seen: ....ugh...try shaving those stumps.
Even this old man looks better than you:
But you will never have the grace this woman had. So spare us all with the comparisons.
The nightmare never ends---June 9, 2009
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