Doppelgänger 2: The Rapin' Boogaloo
Don't sleep on Republicans, y'all! GOP fuckery and bad faith knows no bounds. Because even after Evan came back in to write you a 9:30 p.m. post on the new Judiciary Committee transcript where Brett Kavanaugh got to rebut all the obvious nutjobs and their bullshit hallucinations with a self-serving monologue on his own sacred virtue, the night wasn't over. Turns out Boaty McBoatface, the "boat guy" out of Rhode Island who theoretically beat up "Mark and Brett" after they took liberties with one of the local ladies, is ... OMG, NOT REAL. So obviously Dr. Ford, and Deborah Ramirez, and Julie Swetnick are also NOT REAL, and we should just vote to give living saint Brett Kavanaugh a lifetime appointment on the Supreme Court, right? Right?
Or Chuck Grassley and the rest of the lyinass bitches on the Judiciary Committee -- this means you, Orrin! -- can GTFOH with that noise.
But Chuck and Orrin did not GTFOH. Instead they beta-tested a brand new Doppelgänger Theory. What if the Real Rapist™ isn't saintly virgin Brett Kavanaugh or his drunken lout buddy "Squi," with whom he spent his entire summer, but is instead some random nutjob who called in out of the blue to confess his crimes to Chuck Grassley? Or maybe it's TWO NUTJOBS!
That's right, you guys! The Hardy Boys of the Hart Building are interviewing not one but two new suspects in The Case of the Lyin' Hussy Who Never Was Attacked, Or If She Was, It Was By One of These Two Randos. What was Ed Whelan thinking last week setting his own career on fire trying to finger Kavanaugh's best buddy "Squi," when there were any number of crazy dudes willing to step up to the plate and confess to a crime which has no statute of limitations in Maryland?
It's so perfect! They don't have to call Dr. Blasey a lying whore put up to it by the Dirty Dems -- the goon squad at Fox will take care of that one. They'll just imply that the little lady is confused, probably in the grip of an estrogen-induced hallucination.
Sure, Dr. Blasey seems pretty clear on the identity of the attackers in her pre-submitted testimony. She seems to know exactly who Kavanaugh and his drunk pal Mark Judge were.
I tried to yell for help. When I did, Brett put his hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming. This was what terrified me the most, and has had the most lasting impact on my life. It was hard for me to breathe, and I thought that Brett was accidentally going to kill me. Both Brett and Mark were drunkenly laughing during the attack. They both seemed to be having a good time. Mark was urging Brett on, although at times he told Brett to stop. A couple of times I made eye contact with Mark and thought he might try to help me, but he did not.
During this assault, Mark came over and jumped on the bed twice while Brett was on top of me. The last time he did this, we toppled over and Brett was no longer on top of me. I was able to get up and run out of the room. Directly across from the bedroom was a small bathroom. I ran inside the bathroom and locked the door. I heard Brett and Mark leave the bedroom laughing and loudly walk down the narrow stairs, pin-balling off the walls on the way down. [Emphasis added.]
But maybe the "female assistant" will be able to pin it on on of those two unnamed weirdos off the street, who could blow this whole case wide open if they were available to testify, but are unfortunately busy putting the relaxer on their home perms this morning. And Mark Judge has ... cramps.
OR MAYBE IT WAS THE ONE-ARMED MAN! Find out in Evan's liveblog, which will be going all damn day.
And just in case you think we're being flippant, of course we believe Dr. Blasey. Shout out to all the survivors -- we're sorry, we love you, and we're with you, today and every day.
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Liz Dye lives in Baltimore with her wonderful husband and a houseful of teenagers. When she isn't being mad about a thing on the internet, she's hiding in plain sight in the carpool line. She's the one wearing yoga pants glaring at her phone.