I lived in Arizona for a time, and there was a male resident of the town in which I lived that had a, shall we say, reputation for being a lout. He was well-known for harassing women, and rumor had it, worse, and eventually I became the target of his unwelcome attention. He’d follow my car while I was out running errands; he’d show up in places where I happened to be; and popped up at my place of employment when I was there alone. One night, while out with friends, I spotted him across the room, staring at me. It was mid-summer, so I went outside for some air. I figured, it’s a public place, I’m safe. I sat on a bench rummaging through my bag for something, and when I looked up, I was startled to see that he was standing right in front of me. I’d had enough. I made it clear, in rather colorful language and with as much aggression as I could muster, that if he didn’t stop harassing me, I’d have my law enforcement friends pay him a visit next. The stalking ended. To this day, I wonder how many other women he harassed. In short, he was the Bill Clinton of a sleepy Arizona town. Which brings me to my point: The Clintons are vile. And Bill is a stalker, according to Juanita Broaddrick, one of those who’s accused the former president of rape:

[Broaddrick] says that within a few weeks after Clinton allegedly raped her, he started to call her repeatedly with the aim of meeting again.

“I was shocked to say the least that he would have the audacity to call me after what he did to me…”

She said that just a few weeks after the 1978 alleged sexual assault, “He called the nursing home that I owned and they patched the call through to my office and I didn’t know that it was him. And he immediately said, ‘Hi, this is Bill Clinton. I was just wondering when you were coming back to Little Rock again.’

“This just caught me so off guard. I had not expected anything like this at all. And I told him I would not be coming back to Little Rock again and definitely would not ever be seeing him again. And I hung up.”