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If gets worse. If you are so motivated there are plenty of stories about Biden's rant about "they don't get us" that need to have Biden's biographical quotes linked to in comments to show what a fraud Biden is when he pretends the his parents were "working class" and how they could "dream" just like "the rich."

During WWII, during rationing and when others were dying on battlefields around the world, Biden's dad and his dad's cousin were each made boss of chemical subsidiary of the family business, Biden writes in his biography:

(dad's cousin)"Bill Jr. and my dad lived high. They’d pilot their private planes up and down the eastern seaboard, run over to the Adirondacks to hunt elk, and appear in the kitchen of Manhattan’s Barclay Hotel with a brace of quail for the chef to prepare. The Sheen did exceedingly well during the war, and my dad went along for the ride.”

Link to google books biography pages 16-17 (google search "Joseph H. Biden oil":

http://books.google.com/books?id=wGlEt5bZ0q4C&pg=PA16&lpg=PA16&dq=Joseph+H.+Biden+oil&source=bl&ots=y7hJezd8es&sig=T680yriquAWIxcfx5UNggz37Qos&hl=en&sa=X&ei=VPizT7HXNYfM9QT50dmQCQ&ved=0CGAQ6AEwBg#v=onepage&q=Joseph%20H.%20Biden%20oil&f=false

Full context passages from page 16-17:

“My dad was born in Baltimore in 1915, around the time his dad, Joseph H. Biden, had fallen in with a family called the Blausteins, helping them deliver kerosene door-to-door from a special tank rigged on a horse-drawn wagon. When the company anticipated the coming of the automobile age, they turned to gasoline and made a nice little company called American Oil Company (later Amoco). Joseph H. was shipped to Wilmington to run the American Oil operation there. Most summers, though, my father went to stay with his cousin, Bill Sheen Jr., who was like a brother to him. Old Man Sheen, Big Bill, was a tough, hard-drinking Irishman who—we were told—had invented a sealant used for cemetery vaults. The Sheens had an estate in Baltimore hunt country and—without putting too fine a point on it—they were wealthy. Every couple of years Big Bill would go out and buy new Cadillacs for himself, his wife, and his son. For his favored nephew, Joseph Biden, he’d buy the newest Buick roadster. My dad grew up well polished by gentlemanly pursuits. He would ride to the hounds, drive fast, fly airplanes. He knew good clothes, fine horses, the newest dance steps.

“So when his own father, Joseph H. Biden, was transferred from Wilmington to Scranton, my dad drove his beautiful new four-hole Buick to Scranton for his last year of high school. He was something the Scranton Catholic schools had never seen, and his classmates gave him a pretty hard time for being such a swell. But my mom—Jean Finnegan of North Washington Avenue—fell head over heels in love. They were married in Scranton in May 1941.

“With the war on the way, the Sheens got a big contract to put their sealant on merchant marine ships that left from American ports, and my dad was swept into the new business. Big Bill ran the operation at the Norfolk, Virginia, shipyard, Bill Jr. ran new York; my dad took over the Boston operation. Bill Jr. and my dad lived high. They’d pilot their private planes up and down the eastern seaboard, run over to the Adirondacks to hunt elk, and appear in the kitchen of Manhattan’s Barclay Hotel with a brace of quail for the chef to prepare. The Sheen did exceedingly well during the war, and my dad went along for the ride.”