I don’t consider Congresspersons experts on anything important. We hire them to do their jobs because we can control them - or because we think we can control them - and we expect little in return unrelated to newly named Post Offices and only minor adjustments in our income taxes, but where their light of ignorance really shines is on the subject of fashion. “Seersucker Thursdays,” anyone?
(Man, Rick Santorum will be remembered for a lot of tragedies accomplished in his time as Senator, but that has to be among the greatest.)
So, imagine my surprise when one of our very own elected officials decided to inject himself into the great debate of whether journalists should have “professional hair.”
House Republican Leader John Boehner is known for regularly poking fun at reporters about their hairstyles. But at his weekly press conference on Thursday he couldn’t contain himself.
As he launched into his regular refrain about the Democrats’ budget, saying it “spends too much, it taxes too much, and it borrows too much”, he stopped himself — trying to hold back laughter during his own opening comments.
He quickly singled out a young print reporter, telling him, “You really do need to do something with that hair of yours.” As reporters laughed, he joked, “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
He went on to finish his opening comments, but before calling on the same reporter, he teased, “Get a brush, would ya?”
Dear John Boehner, where shall I start?
I could tell you to butt out of David Gregory’s business (and it HAS to be David Gregory as there’s really no one else whose hair can qualify as “laughable”), but I am more likely to question your judgement. Off the bat, I’ll tell you I don’t like you. That suit, that commitment to populism, that utter and unabiding love for puffed up partisanship that, while totally meaningless, somehow ensures that you remain in a Congressional leadership position despite your clear ineptitude at the assigned task, and…that tan.
Where the hell did you get that tan? I thought orange fake bake went out around the time they discovered exfoilation. Did you have an accident involving an Oompa-Loompa? Have you been secretly counseling Linday Lohan? Did you slather yourself in butter and bake on the roof of your Georgetown apartment? Did they leave you in the Mystic Tan machine? Because if so, you should either stop or sue someone. Twenty years from now, they’re going to find out that that stuff is toxic, eats through plastic and all these years has been slowly rotting away that part of your brain that allows you access to reason. Then, while we may all finally understand what motivates you, you’ll be nothing but a vegetable in a badly tailored suit.
Which probably ensures your continued election, but hey, whose counting.
