By Wesley Pruden
The girl just can’t help herself. Hillary Clinton has a trust problem. Voters tell the pollsters they think she’s a liar. Nobody but party hacks and feminist true believers trust her.
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Some of her lies, like the one she tells about what really happened at Benghazi, are deadly serious. Some of them are more fibs and stretchers than deadly serious lies. Some are harmless and even amusing, like stories about the new bride who can’t tell a straight story about her unbalanced checkbook or how a dent in the new family car got there.
But she’s a big girl now, old enough to wear a big girl’s pantsuit, who thinks she’s ready to be the president of the United States, whose word is always taken as the truth, or at least as fact. Hillary revels in the tall tale, badly told.
She resurrected one from the archives this week at a breakfast in New Hampshire. She wanted to demonstrate her solidarity with the fighting men and women in uniform. Bubba was a malingerer but she has been boasting for years that she once tried to join the Marines.