My Auto-Biography by Joe Biden: Based on a True Story, Mostly

By Escort J. Galt

It's All Here! The Life of The Joe

"Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them." 

- William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night.

(What the Bard of Avon might have written even today had he the opportunity to meet the King of Kovid and the Cyclic Cycler of Redu

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Galt, Escort
• Release date: Sep 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958690994

Book preview

My Auto-Biography by Joe Biden

Copyright © 2022 by J. Galt, Escort

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN

978-1-958690-97-0 (Hardcover)

978-1-958690-98-7 (Paperback)

978-1-958690-99-4 (eBook)

Warning! Warning! Warning!

Hi, I just found out that some buddy or not so buddy buddy wrote stuff about me and made pictures of me and stuck it all in this book without my permission. That stuff isn’t true, even the parts that are. Kamala said she didn’t do it and I believe her. And Nancy — well Nancy liked me, I think, before the Chinese thing happened. Anyway, I just don’t know who did it but I for sure did not.

Joe for 2024 and 26!

(You don’t think Hunter...Nah.)

P.S. I will autograph this book if you bring it to the White House. It’s the Big one which is mostly white, if you get my drift.

P.P.S. Remember, if you want your kids to be successful like mine, let ‘em watch the radio and play things on the pornograph.

OTHER BOOKS

BY J. GALT

(THE GUY THAT WROTE THIS ONE)

Piercing the Veil

Iranian Foreign Policy

Zero Two Hundred Hours

Preying in Iran

When you’re dead, you don’t know you’re dead.

All of the pain

Is felt by others. The same thing happens when you’re stupid.

– Philippe Geluck

AN IMPORTANT NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER AND THE EDITOR

We are too proud to present to America and to the entire world the inner thoughts, the recollections and the non-recollections of America’s greatest living, currently alive president sleeping in the White House and in his home in New Jersey and elsewhere. When the American economy goes bust, he goes boom, when the drums of war are playing, he dances, and when everyone is crying, Joe is spying. We here at the Delphic Oracles Publishing House cannot help but salute the man, a man of inexhaustible urges and profound profligacy. He is a paragon of urges and psoriatic arts. The melody and beauty of his voice is both profound and base like much else about the man we so admire. A man of the utmost personal integrity, my friend Joe never shoots from the hip as he engages in great research to validate everything he says in public and private. He instead engages in a kind of source-e-ry that makes everyone cry with delight. How could one man know so much? Is he possessed or just truly a genius? His DNA is inhuman, just like the man. His recollection of things both past and past, as well as future, makes him a fitting presence in today’s White House. As Joe himself says, Don’t do now what you could have done then, like in the future, or the past. Such profundity even now eludes most great minds. Like Einstein, Joe knows his own relatives, for he is one of them. And I ask that you the reader remember that, for Joe, life is truly a re-rendering of all things past even if they are not or have never been present. He is a man beyond his times. He is a visionary who has seen beyond the final frontiers of the heavens and embraced its empty spaces, bringing them into his own brain. And like all great genies, Joe thinks outside the box and destroys its rigid confines. As he once said to me, Who needs outer space when I got inner space right here, as he brought his pointer finger to his temple. Yes, his temple, how symbolic. Now join with me as we harken back to those glorious days of Joe’s youth and early childhood in Scranton, Chihuahua, where he first learned to samba and to covort with his Mexican playmates. As Joe likes to say, O Cisco, O Pancho. Not only is he the man, he is the wanderer of the world about whom we all wonder.

One final thought. Some say that Joe exemplifies the very essence of concentration with his laser-like focus upon any task he ignores to undertake. I say Joe is beyond mere concentrated power of the mind. Joe is instead positively dense. Like the universe itself, Joe’s mind can bend time and space thereby bringing darkness to light. Truly, Joe is the black hole of humanity.

Ali Bin Ben

Allahu Akbar

Contents

Part I The Early Years

Part II The Tweener Years

Part III The Campaign Years

Part IV Twilight

Part V The Unset Suns

The Mean New Deal

PART I

THE EARLY YEARS

Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.

Abraham Lincoln

MOTORS, VOTERS, AND JOE

JOE TALKS

When I first told my voters I wanted to write my auto-biography, they said, No, no, Joe, it’s too hard. Please don’t, you’ll hurt yourself. Well son of a bitch, I wrote it anyway and proved, proved... something, like when the people are for ya, I’ll just ignore ya, ‘cause I’m Joe. Believe me, cause I ought to know. So these are some of the thoughts I was thinkin’, as I was, about why I have never been selected for jury duty and other strange things in my wonderful life filled with Ho downs and other Chinese women and mischief makin’ mamas, if you know what I mean.

So one of my greatest thoughts was everyone needs this book about my auto-biography because without it you’ll never learn to drive a car. And that is how it all started. But first I was thinkin’ and thinkin’ rhymes with Lincoln, that’s the guy who started the War of Northern Aggression against us. Cause he didn’t like Democrats much. So we use to say, Lincoln, Lincoln, you been drinkin’, smells like wine, oh my gosh, it’s turpentine. And that ain’t good to drink, Hunter told me about it. And I didn’t like Lincoln much cause he didn’t like us but I do like his car. I got one for my rides around the parking lot at the White House. It’s smooth as Jill’s behind and she ain’t even a cat.

Some say, Joe, you got no Lincoln, cause you were too poor growin’ up. That’s true, I was poor but I worked in the coal mines in Detroit to bring home stuff achin’ like bones and stuff. So when I was workin’ all day in the coal mines I turned black. ‘Cause of that, I was liked by all the other black kids in my neighborhood. They use to call me, Little Black... Little Black Little Black White Boy who ain’t. But I didn’t like it much cause it was too long and I couldn’t remember it all. So I just walked around the neighborhood all day long turnin black more and more each day. I was like a tranny, you know. I was transitioning from one color to another like one of those lizards that climb the walls and drapes in your house, especially the curtain. Then you don’t know where they are until they fall on you at night when you’re sleepin’ and you think it’s Giraffish Park and you’re like bein’ eatin. But you ain’t cause they’re too small and they can’t eat ya if you can’t see ‘em. I think they’re called Kamaleons.

But sometime there were problems like when I was walkin’ around tryin’ to grow my face more black so I could fit in more. This guy came up to me and was sayin’ I shouldn’t keep walkin’ around the neighborhood with a black face when I was cause it was evil. He was named Justin ya know. But he wore pajamas a lot and use to climb up on the school during recess – oh, oh, oh, and I forgot to tell you this—he had a black face just like me. Oh, hey, that reminds me of a book I wrote about my whole experience when I was with Justin the white black boy. I called it Black like Me. And I wasn’t afraid of him and I told him, You ain’t black like me if you ain’t white. And he was a chain smoker too so he use to cry a lot from skin cancer cause he said black people get it more and he thought he had it and a kind of sickle from sales in Armenia --I think it was called. I never understood that. I like Armenians but he didn’t cause he was black. But I’m not sure cause he knew he didn’t cause I could see his white skin kept poppin’ up especially when it rained. He had leprosy! When we played basketball, he kept his shirt on even when we was skins. He was kinda strange too. He ate a lot of frogs and said they were good for ya. But he still wouldn’t take his shirt off ‘cause people would see his whiteness and start yelling Leper, leper! Ring around the roses. You got no noses. Ashen, ashen, you all fall down."

Oh, oh, oh, an’ I forgot to tell you about his peeing. When he was on the roof of the school, he would pee on the little kids down below and tell them they were stupid and some day he would grow up and be a king and they would be mothers of truckers an’ he would reign over them. But I knew that wasn’t true cause he was peein on the boys too and they couldn’t be mamas unless they became lesbians first.

MY FIRST OTTO

Don’t be

Ashamed to fart

While you pee...

There is no rain

Without thunder.

-- Somebody

My first car was a self-made car and I made it mostly myself, especially after I got some help from a friend of mine named Johnny. First I bought a Revel Kit Car and put it on the floor after I opened the box, but it weren’t no use. It just sat there and never moved or made anything of itself. It was born dead so I quit and just poured all sorts of glue on it and lit it on fire to watch the black smoke comin’ out of it remindin’ me once again about my bein’ a black kid and all. He said some day we would have a whole car if we stole it just one piece at a time from the GM plant where it was bein’ made. He even made a funny song about it.

But I had a German friend who I played football with me all the time who was really good at throwin’ long passes. He became a famous football player after he taught me how good it was to learn to throw long, long passes. He was always’ sayin’ The pass is the gas of the game and the air in room. In fact that’s how I met Jill. We met at a party once and I had been eatin’ a lot of beans with my Mexican playmates named Cisco, Pancho, and Goya. And what happened next was just the funniest thing. Ya see, after all them beans, I wasn’t feelin’ so good and I was getting’ kind of crampy and all. Well anyway that Jill was kind of flirtin’ with me and one time she said, Don’t you like me? Tell me how you really feel, Joe, just let it out. And so I did, Whew! What a relief! And as I did that I remembered Otto tellin’ me, If you pass the gas, you’ll always leave air in the room, and boy did I! That may have been the longest gas pass I ever made. Jill was impressed, I could tell when she expressed her admiration for me when she wrinkled up that cute little nose of hers and said, Sniff, sniff, was that you, Joe? Because I’m kind of the manly type when I was a kid, I didn’t say a word. I just turned around with my back to her and did it again. This one’s for you, Otto, let’s build that car. Jill giggled and said, "Joe, you had me at BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT. Yep, she said it, truly. You may be smelly but you are the king of farts, no one else like you. Two days later I saw her again and didn’t say a thing, I just let my body do the talkin, BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBT. Joe, Joe, Joe, you are so special. Maybe some day you can do it when you grow up and do it front of a queen or maybe even the pope. What do you say, big guy? And, if I can re-collect, I think to myself, Boy did it! "

Every party needs a pooper…

So my friend Otto and Johnny and I, after I was workin’ all day in the Detroit coal mines, began constructed a real, live, self-made car. But I had learned that just because somethin’says its self-made doesn’t mean it is. You still have to make it even if the instructions say it is self-made. So we would go to the trash every day outside the Ford Plant and pick out the GM parts we wanted. Some fit together, some didn’t. Then one day I found a pumpkin field near the Chrysler Plant and it had pumpkins growin’ next door. So I know what you are thinkin’, how can a body make a car out of pumpkins? It was actually easier than you can imagine. Remember, I am Joe and I ought to know.

So by and by, we started collectin the parts and draggin’ them out of the trash all the way to my secret hidin’ place which was a deserted barn near the coal mine where I worked. It took us months to put it together. Then finally one day, we had put most of it together but part of it didn’t quite seem right and by and by I contemplated my design. We had forgotten the one thing we had forgotten that was absolutely necessary. Yep, sompin’ was amiss and now I knew what it was. Wheels, we had forgotten the wheels. I screamed out loud in the barn, Da Wheels! Da Wheels! Well, I plump dat a doo masawaki hollobaloooooyeee! Remember I talked like that back then cause I was transitioning into a black person from workin’ in the coal mines all day. But we didn’t have any wheels and we noticed that GM just didn’t seem to want to throw any of them away. We found some but they were all flat on the bottom and no matter which way we rolled ‘em they were always flat on the bottom. And we were just about to give up when a miracle happened!

There she was!

Oh, she was sooooo pretty. She had long golden-like hair and beautiful black face just like me. I had seen her before at the coal mine givin’ out canaries and cages to the other miners so we had somethin’ to eat when we went into the coal mines. But I guess I hadn’t noticed so much her bein’ pretty and all and I thought she was too nice for someone so manly and all like me. But there she was standin’ in the doorway of our deserted barn. When she smiled, her black face and against it them thar pearly whites. Whew! Goodbye Jill! Yep, after hangin’ around the coal mine all day long she had begun to transition from white to black just like me. So I asked her her name, she said, Black Cinder. Ah, that’s beautiful, I said. But then Otto said, Her name’s re-dundant. No, it’s not, I said, It’s Black Cinder. That’s what I’m sayin,’ he said. No, you just said her name’s Redundant. Exactly, it’s her name. I agree, she’s Black Cinder, and she’s redundant.

Otto was getting’ kind mad and I didn’t want to embarrass her and so I invited her into our barn. To humor Otto, I just started callin’ her Redundant and Otto just called her Black Cinder, I guess to humor me. And that is how I first learned to negotiate and compromise, by understandin’ the situation. And, Otto, he just ate some Graham crackers and din’t say much the rest of the evening. But later as we were still refin’ our thoughts about how to get the wheels to our auto-mobile, I caught him lookin’ at her kinda subtle like. So I winked at him and he says, You’re dumb. Yeah, dumb like an ox, I think. He just rolled his eyes and looked away. I think he was scared at my wit. But Johnny didn’t say much, even to Redundant. When I asked him why he didn’t seem to take to her, he just said, Cause I walk the line and I keep a close call on this heart of mine. I thought about it and all but I couldn’t make sense of it. So I just stopped thinkin’ and that has been one of the great lessons I have carried with me all my life. If you’re not sure what to do, just stop thinkin’ and I been doin’ that ever since. And once when I became an alcoholic so I could see what it was like, I just started sayin’ to myself, Don’t think, just drink." Been doin’ it ever since.

JOE SAYS TAKE BREAK

BECAUSE READING IS HARD.

DID YOU EVER READ A

TELEPROMPTER?

JOE DOES THINKIN’

So when we was thinkin’ and workin’ on a way to get tires on our auto that weren’t flat on the bottom, Redundant says to us, Why not turn the pumpkins into the wheels? Of course, I said, that’s it! That’s it! Eureka! Eureka! That was an expression I learned from people in California and they said every time they struck gold but which was mainly only if they went to a dentist and had their teeth fixed, I guess. An’ then later on I went to a Greek bathing party where they baptized a new baby and poured stuff all over their bodies and then left olive oil streaks in the tubs and kept yellin’ Eureka every time the tub overflowed. I never did see the fun in that, especially when they had to clean up the grease streaks they left in the tubs. I tried it once by pourin’ olive oil all over myself but I kept slippin’ in the tub and spent two days in there until a plumber came to my room and pulled me out ‘cause the neighbors were complainin’ about the water and the olive oil that kept flowin’ into their apartments. An’ I was mighty hungry. A body can only drink so much bathwater.

So after that I kept to myself kinda and showed ‘em how tough I was by spittin’ when they walked by and poured more olive oil on myself to be kinda greasy even though I didn’t really like grease. But that was the only way I could pretend I was Aye-talian which I wasn’t completely because I never had a greaser black leather jacket to wear when I was poor and black. But I did have an Aye-talian girl friend once who was named Sophia and She was beautiful and use to dance a lot to make her blouse real sweaty-like so that her nipples would punch holes in ‘em. Man she was a real hot tamale but not completely ‘cause she was still not Mexican and came to America legally, they tell me. But she was really beautiful and so I never understood why she had a fat old bald guy who made her do tricks and stuff in the movies and then he would just go around tellin’ the guys she was doin’ things with in the film, Basta!, Basta! and then clap his hands like a seal. So I didn’t get it, if you want her to do things in sheets and stuff with other men and take pictures of it why do you keep tell her to stop after you make her start in the first place. I guess it’s just the way Aye-talian men are. I like spaghetti and maybe I’ll go there to Aye-taly and find out what Basta! really means but not until I find out if Sophia was born in Rome or Nipples. I think it’s more likely Nipples.

So like I was sayin’ until I was so rudely interruptin’ myself, we had Redundant tellin us about putin’ (somethin’ about that word bothers me) on the pumpkins which made me think of another song I was workin’ on while Johnny kept playin’ a banjo he made out of an old hubcap and some strings. I still don’t get it and told him so, Johnny, I says, ‘Why don’t you help us get the pumpkins by the coal mine instead of just singin’ a song about that line you keep wantin’ to walk. It’s stupid, nobody walks a line even when you’re fishin’. You might cast your line into the water but it won’t catch no fish unless you got bait on it and big old carp come up and bite it. Even then it won’t do you no good, no how. After all, you can’t just throw the line in the water without you tie it to somethin’ like your big toe or a fishin’ pole. But that Johnny, he was real stubborn and kept ignorin’ Redundant and pretended he didn’t see her. But then, real funny like he started smiling and said, "I know, let’s give