Not long after I arrived at the post, a gaggle of Code Pinkos straggled down the sidewalk wearing Pepto Bismol-pink getups. They looked like bums with bad taste. I immediately felt my nuclear energy ramping up. One Code Pinko began barking like a dog with distemper, daring to ask what I do to support the troops. "We confront traitors like you every day," I said (well, I yelled). "Your group sent $650,000 to terrorists' families when our soldiers are getting killed by them!" She called it "humanitarian aid." Right. Roadside bombs have a certain human touch, don't they? The Pink...
