That's the whole point, isn't it?
So, Romney is a bully and Billy Ayers reported in Dumbo's autobiography that Barry succumbed to peer pressure and shoved - one of his own examples of bullying - an overweight black girl.
I bet Dumbo wishes he could stick to real issues given that he is being made to look ridiculous every time his machine brings up some BS episode from Mitt's life.
You're telling me that a kid acted like a kid in school?
I'm shocked I tell you, shocked.
I'm sure the idiot left would be fine if he was slinging coke and weed with Dumbo instead.
This story matters only to two groups, the gays, and the anti-gays, and the gays are already voting for Dumbo.
Most kids go through school without pinning someone down and cutting off their hair. Romney wasn't even discplined because his dad was rich and powerful. As more stuff like this comes out,
Romney is so squeaky clean, that Dumbo's camp has very little to attack, and when they do, Dumbo's already admitted the same or worse in his book.
There was one other child in my class, though, who reminded me of a different sort of pain. Her name was Coretta, and before my arrival she had been the only black person in our grade. She was plump and dark and didn’t seem to have many friends. From the first day, we avoided each other but watched from a distance, as if direct contact would only remind us more keenly of our isolation.
Finally, during recess one hot, cloudless day, we found ourselves occupying the same corner of the playground. I don’t remember what we said to each other, but I remember that suddenly she was chasing me around the jungle gym and swings. She was laughing brightly, and I teased her and dodged this way and that, until she finally caught me and we fell to the ground breathless. When I looked up, I saw a group of children, faceless before the glare of the sun, pointing down at us.
“Coretta has a boyfriend! Coretta has a boyfriend!”
The chants grew louder as a few more kids circled us.
“She’s not my g-girlfriend,” I stammered. I looked to Coretta for some assistance, but she just stood there looking down at the ground. “Coretta’s got a boyfriend! Why don’t you kiss her, mister boyfriend?”
“I’m not her boyfriend!” I shouted. I ran up to Coretta and gave her a slight shove; she staggered back and looked up at me, but still said nothing. “Leave me alone!” I shouted again. And suddenly Coretta was running, faster and faster, until she disappeared from sight. Appreciative laughs rose around me. Then the bell rang, and the teachers appeared to round us back into class.