I never translated from my days in the Navy to being a congressman.

I am showering, naked as a jaybird, and here comes Rahm Emanuel, not even with a towel wrapped around his tush, poking his finger in my chest, yelling at me.

Now, they're saying I groped a male staffer. Yes, I did. Not only did I grope him, I tickled him until he couldn't breathe and four guys jumped on top of me. It was my 50th birthday.

Rahm Emanuel is son of the devil's spawn. He is an individual who would sell his mother to get a vote. He would strap his children to the front end of a steam locomotive.

I do believe in God. That's why I'm alive.

My very good friend, Rahm Emanuel, made it very clear to me on several occasions that I was, quote, unquote, not a team player; that I was not - that I didn't not have a future.

Rahm Emanuel is son of the devil’s spawn.