You know the one — the chin presses down against the throat in triple folds, the cheeks become hard as crabapples; the eyebrows, barometers of bile, rise toward the gel-encrusted hairline; the eyes go round but the pupils narrow to pinpricks, and she’s smiling, full of good cheer, on the outside, but on the inside she just wants to die.
One thing you can say about Romney and Obama, they ain’t repressed.
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