The Resemblence Is Uncanny

Baby,You\'re A Star!

You know, this just confirms my darkest fears. Apparently, I really do look like a man.

When one’s eyes rest upon my mug, they interpret me as either:

A) A really hot blonde, say Christina Applegate, Portia Derossi {yeeaah!} maybe somebody russian. OR,


Apparently, many men, according to the experts over at MyHeritage.com. A nod to my natural versatility, I suppose. You know, I always felt that deep inside I embodied the spirits of a short-statured disc jockey from Buenos Aries, certainly, a blood-doping, cheating Olympic cyclist (and there you go again, automatically assuming that since the word “dope” is involved, dude must look like me), and of course, The Thin Man. Couldn’t tell you why-I just always knew.

Well, I always knew I looked like Tyler Hamilton. I mean DUH, c’mon, it’s a no-brainer. (For those of you not “in the know”, Tyler Hamilton was the UK cyclist in the 2004 Athens Olympics who almost had his gold medal snatched away from him for alleged “blood-doping”,a surprising practice that involves neither steroids nor china white {then why the hell even bother????} , but instead has something gross to do about blood transfusions and extra red blood cells. Jeesh, that would just be way too messy and too much trouble for me. Hasn’t he ever heard of Red Bull and Vodka? It’s the chosen performance enhancer for millions of savvy, on-the-go barathletes who need that extra BOOST to get the job done.) Tyler and I are the same height, and have very similar fashion sensibilities.

Which reminds me, where the hell are my Limited Edition Lance Armstrong autographed LiveStrong bicycle shorts and coordinating laurel leaf olympian coronet? They were just here on this chair, I was about to go riding-DAMNIT, do you have them? Huh? Is this some kind of joke? Ha Ha, very funny.

Or …..C) Hillary Clinton. Well Of course!I always thought we were twins. In fact, whenever I see a picture of her and her tired eyes, I notice the faded beauty of her softly drooping contours, drab hair, and bland wardrobe-it’s freaky! It’s just like looking in the mirror. You know, you just thwarted my crafty plan for world domination. In the beginning, when the campaign was fresh and Hillary had such promise, much like the promise I made to God that I would save myself until marriage, I concocted a plan to sidle up behind her and club her upside the head with the tail end of that rifle her grandpappy used to teach her ol Calamity Jane self how to shoot with.

You know, just take her out, stuff her in a barrel on the otherside of the shed, and then run for president in her place, since we’re sooo obviously dopplegangers. I was stoked, too! I was really looking forward to becoming our nation’s first Lady President. Hey, I could truly use a trusty government job with a stable, respectable wage and a decent benefits package. The government usually hooks yo ass UP! Which reminds me…HOOKERS! Right On! I’d get hookers too. HELL YEAH! Wait a minute. Why do I need hookers? I guess maybe because now I’m a politician, and I can. Fair enough.

You know, I almost forgot about all those other great “perks” of the job. Number one, I’d have A job (bonus!) that would allow me to have a title.(nifty!) …PRESIDENT! That sure does sound a whole lot better than LIFETIME OF UNDERACHIEVEMENT. Yay! Mama might finally be proud. But probably not.


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