It’s not Brett Kavanaugh who is under scrutiny; it is the folly of our youth, including all John Hughes movies.

Christine Blasey Ford, typical 1980’s college co-ed whore, living out her youthful folly, found herself in a typical early-80s scenario in which booze flowed, hormones reigned, and common sense were departed, for everyone, not only for the future hand-wringing righteous crowd.

And now she has drawn Supreme Court nominee, Brett Kavanaugh, into her pathetic Leftist-Puritan ball of scorn.


Speaking publicly for the first time, Ford said that one summer in the early 1980s, Kavanaugh and a friend — both ‘‘stumbling drunk,’’ Ford alleges — corralled her into a bedroom during a gathering of teenagers at a house in Montgomery County.

While his friend watched, she said, Kavanaugh pinned her to a bed on her back and groped her over her clothes, grinding his body against hers and clumsily attempting to pull off her one-piece bathing suit and the clothing she wore over it. When she tried to scream, she said, he put his hand over her mouth.

Ford said she was able to escape when Kavanaugh’s friend and classmate at Georgetown Preparatory School, Mark Judge, jumped on top of them, sending all three tumbling. She said she ran from the room, briefly locked herself in a bathroom, then fled the house.


Early 1980’s.

I’m the same age as Kavanaugh, I’m from his, and Ford’s, era. She is describing the unremarkably inept, drunken, sloppy entry-level sex we all attempted to clumsily initiate at that age. We were young, and most of us, pretty stupid.



Each and every one of our lives played out like a ridiculous John Hughes movie.   Whether it’s Mark Judge or Judge Reinhold, one fact remains:  we were young, in body and mind.

Mrs. Ford, though “respectable and dignified” now, was every bit the drunken, slutty tramp back in 1983 or 1984 as was Kavanaugh the rambunctious,  beer-chugging frat boy.  Big deal.  Give me something new, give me something good.  Not this dreary, mundane 1980’s Gen X garbage, regurgitated 30 years later, to be newly and conveniently construed as an indictment of a man’s character.

Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m not in the running for Supreme Court judge…