Touch my hair and I'll fucking restructure you.

Mitt Romney’s Hair is the Eiffel Tower of coiffures.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair were my wife, I’d still be having sex with her.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair were my son, I’d tell him I love him for once.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair were my cousin, I’d probably marry that cousin. We’d have adorable, half-Brow half-Hair hemophiliac children. They would all grow up to be investment bankers who will hit the big time as the hairiest and most musically gifted Chamber orchestra since Yo-Yo Ma and 3 other people we don’t give a shit about.

Because Yo-Yo Ma wants all the glory and we’re happy to give it to him.

Seriously. Have you watched that man play a cello? It’s like watching iPads hump in a field of Calla lilies.

And Yo-Yo Ma can steal the limelight from a lot of things, but one thing he can’t do is steal the limelight from Mitt Romney’s Hair.

Mitt Romney’s Hair will beat Obama because the first time Obama meets Mitt Romney’s Hair in a Presidential debate all he will be thinking about is how to get close enough to touch Mitt Romney’s Hair.

Mitt Romney’s Hair will offer him one caress in exchange for dropping out of the race.

Obama will gladly concede.

At the inauguration of Mitt Romney’s Hair, I hope he doesn’t invite Yo-Yo Ma to perform. That will probably set off an atomic explosion in Washington D.C. Which would be cool only because after the explosion it will rain a beautiful shower of Mitt Romney’s Hair combined with the rare unicorn hair Yo-Yo Ma uses for his cello bow.

But before Mitt Romney’s Hair is destroyed in a nuclear explosion of egos, let me just say that if Mitt Romney’s Hair were a Ferrari, it would be the kindest, most devout Ferrari in the whole world. But at night, in its garage, Mitt Romney Ferrari Hair would likely grow weary of the human race for their lack of speed and perfection.

In the morning, though, Mitt Romney’s Hair will be fine. He will trust in humanity again. He will love us for our silly foibles.

In fact, Mitt Romney’s Hair is actually visiting the year 1951 right now, where he is busy reminding himself of all the things that make America so great. He will bring back some pie for you, if you ask nicely.

But don’t ask Mitt Romney’s Hair to bake you a pie from scratch. He’s not into baking pies.

He doesn’t have time for that bullshit.

If Mitt Romney’s hair were a bulldozer, you could only bring it out when you needed help bulldozing snowflakes.

Or the dreams of everyone in all of America who isn’t capital W white.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair were dreaming right now (which it can’t be because it’s busy collecting mementos from 1951), it would be dreaming of a world, much like this one, where Truth and Justice didn’t get capitalized quite so darned often.

And where being Mitt Romney’s Hair was itself a version of pure capital H Happiness.

THE END

 

(or is it just the beginning?)

And since you asked, here’s some more Mitt Romney Hair metaphor for your pleasure:

If Mitt Romney’s Hair needed a hair net, it would have to be spun from Rapunzel’s pubes.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair went into debt, Ben Bernanke would put his beard down as collateral.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair took up skydiving, the horizon would lower just for added safety. And John Glenn would fly the plane.

When Mitt Romney’s Hair sneezes, Vidal Sassoon farts.

If Mitt Romney’s Hair took up throwing pottery, the earth would yield more clay.

Mitt Romney’s Hair once visited the Starship Enterprise. That’s why the original ship’s computer left Star Fleet to go to cosmetology school.

Sure, Chuck Norris’ beard likes Mitt Romney’s Hair. But until Mitt Romney’s Hair makes more time for snuggles, Chuck’s beard will NOT be putting out.

You have nothing at stake here. Why not insult me?

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