I Don’t Care about Your Friendship with Mother’s Good Boy, Brett

Dear Friends and Supporters of Brett Kavanaugh,

I can’t express strongly enough how much I don’t care about your thoughts on you favorite member of the Ralph Club, which, as everyone knows, is a film club dedicated to teasing out the important messages in the John Goodman comedy classic, “King Ralph.” I don’t care about your favorite fan of Devil’s Triangle, which, as everyone knows, was one of 80’s hottest hair bands. I don’t care that he let you cut in front of him at Starbucks.

Awful people, abusive people, are frequently good at appearing wonderful to outsiders and even friends and family. Awful people are often quite successful at convincing people they aren’t awful! It’s quite common, actually. So you’ll understand why your insistence that Brett Kavanaugh should be a Supreme Court justice because he let you borrow his Audi that one time your Mercedes was in the shop but you just couldn’t miss the Spring Cotillion at Maryland WASP Country Club doesn’t sway me.

Here’s a list of other things I don’t care about:

• the time he severely damaged your boat by ramming it with a Jetski, but then grudgingly paid to repair it months later
• the time he let that Latino dude sing in your a cappella group because he thought it would make your sound more “caliente”
• the fact that he has children. 10 of them. No, 20! And they are all very sad.
• the fact that he is married. He is, like, ultra-married. What’s “ultra-marriage?” It’s like regular marriage, but somehow it inoculates you from charges of sexual assault.

I don’t care about any of these things. They don’t cancel out the fact that he’s clearly nasty partisan hack who perjured himself during his hearing and who has the temperament of a maudlin drunk who just got told to leave the bar. He may “love you, man,” but he doesn’t love well over half this country.