An old fellow, Roy, who's daughter I dated in high school, in the mid 70's, died just the other day. He was 85.
He was big on coon huntin' with healers, walkers, blue ticks and who knows what else...
Anyway, once I was eating dinner at their house and somehow the conversation compelled him to state,
"Boy, hit doan matter how much makeup you put on a pig, hit's still a pig!"
I blew a mouthful of food on the table in front of me.
Sadly, that relationship cooled quickly thereafter...