Disclaimer: this is intended as satire of a public figure. Not to be taken literally.
We at the PartyBlog have sat back and listened to all of the disgusting excuses made by the leading GOP kingmakers to date as to why Fraternal Drunken Catholic Creepy Priest Man Bart O’Kavanaugh should receive a lifetime appointment to the highest and most respected job a lawyer can achieve in the world. The media has done an admirable job of showing why the republicans are not really interested in the truth, but instead shoving the nomination down the throats of the American people. If you haven’t read such articles, I would start here with this piece of reporting, in Politico, by Elena Johnson, in which one of O’Kavanaugh’s enablers and handlers explains:
“A defeated Kavanaugh nomination would not only demoralize the conservative base, it could seriously jeopardize Trump’s relationship with the conservative legal movement, and that could be crippling for conservative influence in the Trump era.”
Or this piece in Vox by Matthew Yglesias, demonstrating that the response to the sexual assault allegations that are rising in numbers, has been one of PR, as opposed to fact-finding. Remember, the point of the confirmation process is not a “trial” but whether someone is fit for the supreme court. If someone is not fit (such as lying to the American people by claiming he did not “party,” pretending to be someone he’s not during a Fox Statenews interview, covering up shady stories about the 60 grand in credit card bills that mysteriously disappeared, stolen emails from political opposition while working for Bush, general untoward activity detailed in this sketchy email) then they should not sit on the Supreme Court. This is not about guilt. This is about our rights and the dudes, and a few women, that are in charge of protecting those rights.
Ask anyone – when a dude says confidentiality “on all fronts, including with spouses” after referencing a dice game and blacking out drunk – this is not super secret valentine’s day plans. More like strippers and blow.
Speaking of blow, what’s up with O’Kavanaugh’s calendar entries? As aptly pointed out by Vox’s Tara Golshen, the Calendar doesn’t prove much except that O’Kavanaugh partied a lot. However, no one parties more than us at the PartyBlog. And we know that a reference to a “ski” party in DC in the summertime means one thing – cocaine. (July 1, 1982, “Go to Timmy’s for Skis”).
We have to give credit where credit is due. Jake Currie at the The Woke Sloth deftly unwrapped the layers of the onion that is O’Kavanaugh’s high school year book page. In the best written article to date, Jake pieces together what the f*ck all of this nonsense in O’Kavanaugh’s yearbook actually means. Read it. It’s a much shorter (and more illuminating) than, say, the Davinci Code.
Amazingly, the Woke Sloth did a better job than any other media publication in putting the pieces together, like a Dan Brown novel. Jake Currie took the yearbook to task more than a week before the stories about Renate Schroeder, and the oh so honorable mentions of the “Renate Alumni” club were surfaced by the New York Times. We do have to give props to Kate Kelly and David Enrich for breaking the “Renate” story, even if they showed up late to the ski party and all the snow had melted…
Most telling about the “Renate” spate, is the fact that O’Kavanaugh could not even get his own lies then straight now. His lawyer told the NY Times that he shared a kiss with Renate after he took her to whatever lame-dance date that he felt the need to memorialize in his yearbook. Turns out that wasn’t true, that they never kissed. So O’Kavanaugh’s re-telling on his sexual escapades were still utter bullshit. Even a seemingly innocent revision to a thirty-five year old lie told to his scumbag buddies– that he got to second, or third, or whatever first generation protein powder generated image he wanted to project — further insulted a former friend who had days before gone to bat for the avid baseball fanboy by signing a letter attesting to his character.
On this eve of the impending testimony to be presented by the first of many accusers, the unimpeachable Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, against the increasingly cringe-worthy, pudding popping, JELLO slurping O’Kavanaugh, we at the PartyBlog will break-down what the hell crap the hidden messages in O’Kavanaugh’s yearbook actually mean. This is to assist the American people – and hopefully the Senate – in asking the right questions and in finding the truth, in this pile of shit quickly amassing around O’Kavanaugh’s nomination.
The PartyBlog is well-qualified in understanding douchebaggery, due to our lead editor having attended years of all-boys’ male, prep high school, and making the metaphysical mistake of believing that such an existence was goal oriented and laudable. The goal of senior year, yearbook psycho-babble all-boy douche-double speak is to hide creepy messages (shout out to DJ Lavaflow), brag to those in the know, while humiliating others, in some sort of Freudian desire to repent, by not regretting anything. So we translate stupid Greek pseudo masonry/wannabe frat-boy – if you were black you’d be part of a “gang” and a “thug” – mentality into reality:
“Varsity Football 3,4; J.V. Football 2; Freshman Football 1; Varsity Basketball 3, 2 (Captain); Frosh Basketball (Captain); J.V. Basketball (Captain); Varsity Spring Track 3; Little Hoya 3. 4***”
Take note of the punctuation he’s using. For every semi-colon, he is completing a thought or phrase. My Third Form English teacher would be mortified because this is one long run-on sentence. He’s butchering the English language, and we are talking about a future Supreme Court nominee (likely to be confirmed at this late hour). Regardless, every time you see a semi-colon, it means he is completing the thought. It seems like blather, but we are talking about an intelligent person. The paragraph is actually well thought out. Because, this is his opportunity to tell all, and he only has a few lines. We will walk you through each hair-brained thought. A few more comments. The years in each line represent his years in high school. Elitist prep schools do not use normal words like “Freshman,” “Sophomore,” Etc. (Note how I used “Third Form” above. In my school the numbers started in 7th grade or First Form, so 9th grade is Third Form – get it?). The elitist schools use the British method of counting up. As if these prep schools are not elitist enough, they opt to be more douchey by using some English style, obscure counting system. This means he was on varsity football in 3 (junior year). And 4 (senior year). If you follow the numbers, it also means he was not that exceptional of an athlete. Only played varsity football junior and senior year. Varsity basketball junior and senior year. It’s a small school. How good could the competition really be? The good athletes make the team as sophomores. (If you listened to the Fox Statenews interview, he presented himself as a serious athlete. As if that’s all he did was study, prey, and play sports. C’mon. O’Kavanaugh may have been a serious meat-head, but he was not a serious athlete. I was captain of the JV baseball team too. Guess what? I kissed lots of coach ass and hit the crap out of sub-par pitching. Next year I got zero at bats and gained 15 pounds from sitting the bench and eating brownies, and no there was not pot in them. They were packaged, store bought, it was the nineties, we were not in Cali, and no one had epilepsy.) Strangely, the really bad teams are saddled with the freshman nomenclature (See “Frosh” basketball captain. I guess “Frosh” team sounds better than 1-sies. Other side note: Little Hoya is the Georgetown Prep school newspaper. The editors of that rag must be having a fucking field day with this fiasco).
Next entry: “Landon Rocks and Bowling Alley Assault – What a Night”
Translation: Someone got their ass kicked at a bowling alley. Likely drunk. O’Kavanaugh loved it. Maybe lost his virginity in a car to a drunk chick a la’ Frankie Valli, and doesn’t even know her name. He will never ever be the same. What a lady what a night!
- “Georgetown vs. Louisville – Who Won That Game Anyway?”
Note the capitals. This means the line was heavily repeated amongst friends and became emblematic of something else, more code words. Likely they blacked out in the stands and don’t remember what happened. Code for – who gives a f*ck – we got drunk and are living – LIVING! Yeah – you boys are real rebels going to the ACC games…meanwhile Bad Brains is probably playing a sick show right down the street and you probably still have no idea what the hell I’m talking about…
Some douche set off a fire extinguisher at some poor rich sap’s house when the parents away and made a damn mess of the place.
- “Summer of ‘82 – Total Spins (Rehobeth 10, 9 …)”
Note the elipses – “…” – there is a whole set that came before. This is common in drinking games. You go up the ladder and have to drink more if you get the right dice number, spin, bet, etc. give 10 drinks at the top. Don’t get the right number take the drink for ten seconds. This sounds about right. If there is a sexual element here, it’s not good…means they were actually taking turns, engaging in date rape, or failing and lying about it.
- “Orioles vs. Red Sox – Who Won, Anyway”
See note above, same explanation for “Georgetown vs. Louisville.” More excessive drunkenness. Probably drunk driving. Thinking it’s really cool. It’s not.
- “Keg City Club (Treasurer) – 100 Kegs or Bust.”
This is explained well in the Woke Sloth Article linked above. O’Kavanaugh is bragging about being the “Treasurer” of the 100 Keg Club, one of the great ideas of America’s greatest alcohol fueled novelist who you’ve never heard of, America’s favorite best friend forever, Mark Judge. If only “Tales of a Gen X Drunk” were still in print, it would now be on the New York Times bestseller’s list. Americans cannot help but consume a sorry shit-show. Case in Point: Keeping up with the Kardashians.
- “Anne Daugherty’s – I Survived the FFFFFFFourth of July”
Not sure who Anne Daugherty is but I feel sorry for her. There is special meaning to the “FFFFFF” and those who were involved clearly know the significance. Drumpf’s favorite “low-life” lawyer, future president, Michael Avenatti, has a pretty good take on it, and we have no reason to doubt that he is on the right track.
Ok…yeah…any time a girl is mentioned in one of these year books, and in a crypic way, it’s not meant to be a compliment. But really, when I said, “when you need to feel special, call Rachel,” what I really meant was, she was very helpful in assisting me with my art project. Yeah, we know that’s what you really meant. Doucher.
This is a reference to Malibu Coconut Rum. A Favorite among year 4s. Stolen Malibu caused many a fights in generic rich all male white prep-high.
Too cryptic for even us. He has out-douched even us at PartyBlog.
This was referred to in high school as the “Wobbly-H.” Never seen nor observed, but frequently referenced. The only non-gay way to show your love for your fellow man. Bragging about it in print when you’re not in the sex business is pathetic, creepy, puts you in the top .01 percent of douche, and maybe ties you with the President for biggest Douche Alive. And, pre-facebook no less, so there’s not even a good excuse…
- “Down Geezer, Easy, Spike, How ya’ doin’, Errr Ah”
More drinking. Not Malibu. Probably rot gut whiskey. Spike turns bottle upside down. Shows bubbles. Easy Spike. “Errr Ah,” Spike yells victoriously.
- “Rehobeth Police Fan Club (with Shorty)”
Here’s how this one plays out. Shorty is a quasi-homeless, down on his luck, black man that bought them cheap liquor in Rehobeth beach. White douches always ask black derelict-looking guys to do them favors, like purchase liquor. It is a form of white outreach community service, because a tip is usually promised. It does not matter that the tip is immaterial, in the form of a nickel or a free swig of rotgut. It is the conviction that counts. After the transaction, a police officer comes up to them to ask if Shorty is bothering the future bankers and judges of America. Shorty says, “I’m not bothering them, I just bought them some liquor.” The officer says, “How old are you boys.” The boys say, please sir, don’t arrest us, our parents will kill us. It’s just beach week.” The officer says, “Ok, boys, sounds good, let’s take a picture together. Also, Shorty, if I catch you around here again bothering these nice boys, I’m going to arrest you for loitering.”
- “St. Michael’s . . . This is Whack”
More urban outreach and assimilation with the masses. St. Michael’s is probably a slightly lower class local church festival or rival school. Their booze connection did not come through. The party was Whack. Whack first was used in the 80’s, so the Boys Club of Douche’merica thought they were really “hip” and “urban” in the District when they used the word “Whack.”
Wendy Whitney is clearly a hot girl that none of these guys had a chance with and never talked to. I’m really happy for Wendy Whitney. She managed to avoid going on dates with any of these clowns. As a result, she has avoided public shaming in the world’s largest media providers.
- “Judge – Have You Boofed Yet?”
Clearly this question was asked to Mark Judge at a party. Boofed could mean fucked. It could mean puked. It could mean sticking stuff up their butts, as indicated on urban dictionary, but we are not confident about this meaning as this is a more recent iteration of the phrase. It could be a reference to the nasty stuff that just came out today alleged by Julie Swetnick, who claimed that she was date raped multiple times at parties thrown by these little shits. You can disregard her accusations however because an ex boyfriend filed a restraining order against her in Miami in 2001. See this is America. We blame the victims and believe the self-proclaimed douches. Only Mark Judge knows whether or not he boofed yet. Brett Kavanaugh doesn’t know whether Judge boofed yet, because he is asking the question. How would Brett Kavanaugh know. He does not know what Boofed means. Maybe he did then, when he wrote it. But he certainly doesn’t know what it means now. See kids, that’s what we call implausible deniability.
- “Beach Week Ralph Club – Biggest Contributor”
Ahhh…so funny…bragging because you puked the most during beach week. The only time I ever bragged about puking was when I didn’t puke. Guess what, a few hours later, I puked. Should have known that it’s cool to brag about drinking so much that you puked the most. Now I know what it takes to be on the Supreme Court, of Natural Light.
- “Maureen – Tainted Whack”
This one is about Maureen, and it’s not good. At least her last name is omitted. If it were not, however, Maureen would have a pretty good defamation case in the works. I’d take that case. This is probably a reference to Maureen’s privates (i.e. taint) but placed in the past tense, and reversed so as to throw off the reader (clever clever). It’s disgusting on two levels: 1) the statement itself, 2) that O’Kavanaugh thought this was hilarious and subtle. Someone else probably came up with this term when someone else was telling a vile story about Maureen, maybe true, more likely utter bullshit, said something nasty, and someone else said – “Whack Taint” – then they all started laughing. Regular comedians these guys. O’Kavanaugh found this exchange to be hilarious, and doled a shout-out here. By inverting it as “Tainted Whack” Bart was able to get it through the half-cocked, faculty adviser. Note: the faculty adviser may be the same teacher who Mark Judge claims they threw a bachelor party for and arranged a stripper. New York Times – if you are reading, that’s a potential lead.
Ugh. This is making my head spin. Yes. Just when you thought there could not be another creepy reference to a vagina. There is. Some guy named George told some story about a girl’s hyman. You guys are really the worst fucking little shits alive. The Devil really does take care of its own. Are you kidding me? The Supreme Court?!?!?!
- “Beach Week 3-107th Street”
As if one Beach Week weren’t enough, we had to do three.
- “Those Prep Guys are the Biggest . . .”
Sad penis reference.
Finally. The end. This is either a sex reference or Gonzaga is a nick name for someone that got lucky in some fashion. Missed getting hit by a car. Mom came home just as the towels finished drying or the lost cat came home after sneaking out the back door. I don’t know. We can’t really stomach to think that this last one was as bad as everything that came before. However, given the level of douche, we have to assume the worst. Gonzaga is some guy that lost his virginity under questionable circumstances during Beach Week Three. The girl probably was not sober enough to consent. We are dying inside at the PartyBlog and this is like a bad dream that needs to end now. How is this reality? Bart O’Kavanaugh said it best, “This is ridiculous and from the Twilight Zone.” We certainly agree, but in the opposite way that you mean it.
And one more note. The douchey quote at the end / bottom of the world’s worst yearbook page from the world’s (tied) for biggest douche alive:
“He that would live in peace and at east must not speak all he knows, nor JUDGE all he sees.”
This next side note is from the heart: PartyBoyGeezy did a quote at the end of his yearbook page and dedicated it to one of his friends. It’s admittedly a common douche-bag move to shout out your friends via a pseudo intellectual quote. My quote was from Rabbit Run and it had something to do about Pottstown being a wasteland in the middle of nowhere. (Shout out the Flagman who is from Pottstown.) This means lead editor of the PartyBlog, PartyBoyGeezy, is a huge douche. We understand this now and cannot deny this. However, we have admitted past douchebaggery and disavowed further douchiness. It is a work in process, but a process nonetheless. It has taken until recently, and this whole episode really pushed PartyBoyGeezy and the other editors here in gear, to truly face reality. All rich, privileged, elitist, white douche bags who told bad stories about shameful events and laughed about should come to grips now, in the face of raw, jump the shark, douche, and stop it. Immediately. Like Bill Murray at the end of Scrooge. It’s not cool. Lives have been ruined.
Let’s break down how horrible and devastatingly ironic this quote is. The first phrase (he “that would live in peace” must not “speak all he knows”) means that O’Kavanaugh is not going to tell all. The yearbook page is just scratching the surface. He has secrets, but shall not tell the truly deep, darkest ones, so that all privileged parties can live in peace. Part two (“nor JUDGE all he sees”) is a prayer to Mark Judge not to write about all of their maniacal escapades. Ironically, Judge goes on to write the non-so-great American novel. Fittingly, O’Kavanaugh is barely mentioned. So, the warning shot takes, JUDGE does not speak all he knows. Not in the book. Not in front of Congress or the Senate. Nor JUDGE all he sees. So, yes, Judge does know. He has the answers. But he will not speak. Case closed. Asshole confirmed.
Luckily, however, Judge does not need to speak, because O’Kavanaugh stupidly wrote most of it down in a single, ski-fueled rage. Then edited it for clarity the next day. Turns out, what happens at Georgetown Prep does not stay at Georgetown prep. Or more accurately, white rich elitist snob douche-bags can’t help but love to brag about every stupid little small-ball achievement in their privileged little lives, even if it’s hurtful, mean, criminal or just run-of the-mill fucked up.