the hypocrite
bob dole in his campaign autobiography:«as we approached the enemy, there was a brief exchange of gunfire. i took a grenade in hand, pulled the pin, and tossed it in the direction of the farmhouse. it wasn't a very good pitch (remember, i was used to catching passes, not throwing them). in the darkness, the grenade must have struck a tree and bounced off. it exploded nearby, sending a sliver of metal into my leg--the sort of injury the army patched up with mercurochrome and a purple heart.»
bob dole now:
«as far as i know, he never spent one day in the hospital, i don't think he draws any disability pay. he doesn't have any disability. and he's boasting about three purple hearts, when you think of some of the people who really got shot up in vietnam.»
from [pol] viagra and the brain.
