Look, I like Joe Biden a lot, confessedly, I like him more than a lot of people who like him like him. And even I don’t think he’s perfect.
I don’t drift off to sleep imagining some scene out of Anne of Green Gables, where a fresh-faced Joe dressed in a Seersucker suit meets me at our favorite bridge and we finally, after years and years of “plutonic” friendship, confess our undying love for one another (that’s long since been Ewan McGregor’s lane, sorry Joe).
I’ve never daydreamed about a shirtless Joe kicking in my door in a fire and rescuing me from my bed while I’m seemingly surrounded by flames and out of options (ok, I may be revealing a tad too much about my fantasies, but I digress…)
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