It must not have been easy.
The chore of creating a portrait of a hideous and vile creature whose real life persona is a mix of buffalo and vampire with bare arms and a facial contortion of "I can't shit" is almost too much to ask of any human.
But when you employ someone with so little talent as the painter that Moochelle Obama contracted to do her "official waterbuffalocolor" portrait, the outcome cannot be expected to rise above a menstrual flow or projectile vomit. This is so revolting that you can not only see the putridity. You can smell it.
The official portrait of America's former first gardener was revealed and reviled in simultaneous reactions that was almost as if America had a case of food poisoning exhibiting simultaneous vomiting and endless shitting.
Of course, the "cultured" leftist swines were so impressed with the complete bullshit excuse of the artist that traded in Moochelle's robust burnt chocolate visage in for "grey" skin tones that we shouldn't be surprised that they'll still think Hillary Clinton is an honest woman in a dishonest world.
What we really have here is a complete and utter crock of shit - an untalented artist who can't paint skin tones has to resort to pulling out some shit excuse of charcoals and abstracts with a hint of tribal zulu bullshit interrupted by tacky accents of reds, pinks, and urine yellows that somehow didn't need to be hidden in further greys. It is queer that we must mask the robust black bullshit of Moochelle's naturally puckered visage but we can artibrarily throw in "a hint of color" when it immediately (and thankfully) pulls our eyes away from the facial trainwreck of the first mooch.
To me we have the shocking visage of a haggard banshee who takes a smile and makes it into a tribal warfare aftermath on a good day and a complete battlefield of mangled corpses on her worst. There is no way to make this living hell into something beautiful so that is why the painting isn't even of the First Mooch herself - it is of someone else under the guise it is an "artistic representation of her overall beauty" (which really means, "I painted someone else because there is no natural beauty").
I guess we should be lucky that the artist didn't capture one real thing about this naturally nasty and repugnant collection of human cells - for if the artist had actually succeeded, we'd all have gone blind with one look.
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