Sadly, John Bolton has no redeeming qualities that might offset the horrors of that hideous growth of hair that commands the incredulous attention of anyone seeing him live or in pictures. It makes one think of hiring thugs to pin him down to eradicate that offense to a humane society. And it pains me to admit that John Bolton's unfortunate facial affectation has made an intrusion into my personal life.
He has made it necessary for me to change the way I shave.
I was probably 17 or 18 before I had to deal with the issue of facial hair and dealing with it established a life-long routine that, year after year, became a set-in-stone ritual: Soak face with hot wash cloth. Apply shaving cream to whiskers (in early days with a brush and soap). Starting next to the right ear, down stroke to jaw line (rinse razor) and continue under jaw to base of neck. Back to top and repeat down strokes until reaching nose. Then go to left side of face and repeat down strokes at left ear.
OHMIGOD! What's that foamy white blob above my top lip? I'M JOHN BOLTON.
At my age I'm vulnerable to anything that plays tricks on my mind and so I changed a deeply ingrained ritual. I now start at the foam mustache. Whack, whack. Mustache gone (along with anything that might call up a thought about what'shisname). Continue with old system.
When life throws you a curve ball, bunt.
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