The Latest national garbage dump. . . . .
Accuser Details Lewd Behavior by Cain
By MICHAEL D. SHEAR and TRIP GABRIEL
Michael Appleton for The New York TimesSharon Bialek, left, with her lawyer, Gloria Allred, at a news conference on Monday.Sharon Bialek, accompanied by the celebrity lawyer Gloria Allred, became the first woman to publicly accuse the presidential candidate of sexual harassment, saying that she wants to “give a voice” to other women who might have been harassed by Mr. Cain during his tenure at the association.
“I want you, Mr. Cain, to come clean,” Ms. Bialek, who said she was a Republican, told a packed news conference in New York City’s Friar Club. “Just admit what you did. Admit you were inappropriate to people, and then move forward.”
In a statement issued moments after the news conference started, Mr. Cain emphatically denied the accusation.
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7 comments:
Too simplistic, eh? ;-) OK.
How many university students, even those in PhD programs, travel in and have access to << Just ask any Fortune 500 HR officer.>>, do you think? ;-)
Do these people and their ilk admit to such violations of ethics codes - openly, honestly? Do this often. . even once or twice, and I suspect one's business career is on a shaky guerney to the morgue.
THIS was accidentally removed from 'comments'. . . .Sorry.
Richard has left a new comment on your post "COULD IT BE. . . .. ???":
No, it's yet another illustration of what goes on in executive suites across America, perpetrated by both gay and straight executives. Just ask any Fortune 500 HR officer.
This makes four women. Cain is finished.
. . . .So I have noticed. . . Nein...Nein. . . .Nein. . . .
What a circus. Seems to me like not much has changed since GWB.
Sex, politics and religion.
What else do we talk about here?
I long for another feel-good warm Justy post on life, his life and life in general. Paint us a word-picture Justy....not now, but once in a while.
The other stuff tends to be depressing if taken in long lumps.
Aaaaww. . .OK, Greg n' Coopsta..cozy in. . .hehe. . .Now. .
Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a big, old, old-fashioned white house, built high on The Dunes a bit outside the town of Chatham, in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,and when the winds blew from the South from miles-away Long Island Sound and then the broad Atlantic Ocean, you could hear the long-ago, far-off almost forgotten voices of the wives of fisherman lost in terrible storms during the diffficult Winter months.
At the top of our house, high up on the roof there is the part called "The Widows' Walk" where they women would climb up to from the steep narrow insides stairs in the attic providing exit to this safe area, surrounded by railing, space where the women would go to look for their men returning from the fishing voyage.
The closer to the guestimated day of return. . .the wife had been marking off the days on the large calendar in the kitchen.. . .the more often in the day she would make the trek up the stairs to the attic, and then up and out onto the roof to stand walk looking out in the direction of the hoped-for return of her Man and his fishing crew . . and, sometimes as the children grew, often the oldest son would sail away with his father, she would feel the tugs at her heartstrings from her husband and her first-born son, praying in her strong womanly faith for their safe return.
Sometimes at night, in the late Autumn grey November days and darker black nights, you could hear the keaning of the wife and her children crying under the eaves for the husband and father feared lost in the storm somewhere far away from the outer banks on Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. . . . the moans and cries carried in the wind. . .
And everyday she was there, when the work was haalf-done, she would be there searching out to sea for the special flag her Man flew on his ship for his beloved waiting at home. . . and, from miles away when her heart caught sight of that special colored flag. . her flag. . .she and her Man had chosen the strong bold colors and she had hand-stitched the pieces of cloth together. . . she would sing with joy and know deep in heart that HE was safe and coming home. . . . ;-)
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