Like many of you here, I am sure, I have been fascinated and not the least bit dumbfounded by the ease and facility with which the junior Senator from Liptonburg Texas alternately plays chicken with slander, possessing not only the gargantuan stones required to place a duct-taped together jalopy of bald face lies on an electrified Hot Wheels track converging once upon a suicide collision with the God's honest - but also having the unmitigated Lone-Star sized gall to ploy his wreckless chickenhawkshit gambit upon a man whose combat boots he is not qualified to tongue wash let alone place his filthy teahadist mouth upon, and dances away, never actually making a solid accusation, yet leaving wafting in his wake the fetid smell of a fart that only aspired to graduate to turd.
Quite a skill that, one once only perfected by the wiliest and most infamous of demagouges, though, in fairness to Tailgunner Joe he at least served before he began flinging flatulence at Army Veterans.