Santorum and Hands

I held its hand. I shook the hand of the American Dream. And it has a strong grip.

I remember as a kid kneeling at his casket and not being able to take my eyes off his thick strong hands

I shook hands of farmers and ranchers who made America the bread basket of the world. Hands weathered and worn. And proud of it.

I grasped dirty hands with scars that come from years of labor in the oil and gas fields, mines and mills. Hands that power and build America and are stewards of the abundant resources that God has given us.

I gripped hands that work in restaurants and hotels, in hospitals, banks, and grocery stores. Hands that serve and care for all of us.

New rule. You do not hate gay people as much as you think you do if you are constantly thinking of hands other than yours, especially firm thick hands. Santorum vividly remembers the hands he’s previously shaken and I’m sure he did more than shake those hands *wink,wink.

Nevertheless, he gave a good speech

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