How can anyone really WANT to look at Mel Kiper any longer than they have to? Strange hair, shadowy eyes, pock-mark surrounded smirk do not a hair caster make. And Charles, Kiper's making the face the waitresses at The Beacon give you when you order a sweet tea. You can't burn that place down, but you can vote that hair down.
I can't tell what's shining more, Johnson's hair or his eyes. I've supported the best head of hair this whole match. Johnson.
With Kiper, you may not want to look at him, but the sheer power of his hair compels you to. I did not choose to vote for him. It was a commandment from the peak of Mt. Kiper, divine in reach and scope. Johnson's beautiful flip, like the crest of a perfect wave, receives my admiration, but Mt. Kiper is awe-inspiring.
Kiper's smoldering gaze not only lifts his hair above Johnson's, but makes his photo hazy. Johnson may be clean-cut, but he can't compete. In this contest, a part showing that much scalp is a desperate attempt to salvage hope. Abandon it, Jimmy Johnson, for you have entered the Haircaster Championship, and Kiper's glare reflects the fires of hell.
To be fair, Johnson's ensemble works better than Kiper's. And now that I look upon it --
Johnson. My vote goes to Jimmy Johnson. Your weak grasp at victory has garnered my vote. Kiper's sorcerer's ways won't frighten me.
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I can't tell what's shining more, Johnson's hair or his eyes. I've supported the best head of hair this whole match. Johnson.
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- Wagon
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JOHNSON
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To be fair, Johnson's ensemble works better than Kiper's. And now that I look upon it --
Johnson. My vote goes to Jimmy Johnson. Your weak grasp at victory has garnered my vote. Kiper's sorcerer's ways won't frighten me.
Drew
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