(Rejected first and only draft of a statement by future Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh seeking to clarify his position on beer.)
Mr. Chairman and members of the committee,
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to come back and follow up on certain remarks I made during my earlier testimony. In particular, I want to focus on my relationship with beer.
As I stated repeatedly the last time I sat before you, I liked beer when I was in college, and I like beer now. To be more specific — domestics, German imports and some of the local craft ales.
However, after reviewing the transcript of my previous comments — and also the reaction of several late-night talk-show hosts — I understand why some people might have gotten the impression that I like beer a little too much.
I’m here today to reassure the committee members — and the nation — that beer does not play an outsized role in my social or professional life. Nor was I under its frothy, soothing spell back when I was a student at Georgetown Prep and Yale.
As I’ve candidly admitted, there were occasions when I drank too much beer. But recent remarks from old classmates describing me as a “belligerent” or “obnoxious” drunk are untrue — sour grapes (or, in this case, sour hops) from envious underachievers.
The vast liberal conspiracy that’s been trying to keep me off the Supreme Court excels at digging up that kind of dirt, and the left-wing media splatters it everywhere.
Forgive me, senators, if I’m actually levitating with anger, but I’ve been subjected to outright mockery for testifying that while I have fallen asleep after drinking too many beers, I’ve never “blacked out.”
As anybody who attended Yale or even an inferior university would know, “passing out” and “blacking out” are two different things.
Passing out is basically keeling into a deep, unattractive sleep, often in the prone position but sometimes splayed across a pool table or slumped chin-down in a recycle bin.
By contrast, blacking out often occurs while an inebriated person is still awake, ambulatory and able to speak in complete sentences.
However, events might occur during this period that the individual cannot remember later.
Senators, I’m not disputing the fact that some people who like beer as much as I do occasionally drink to the point of blacking out.
In fact, one of my closest college pals — we called him “Dumbass” — blacked out at a frat party, stole a Budweiser truck, drove all the way to Manhattan and proposed to Molly Ringwald as she walked out of an ice-cream parlor. A few days later, after my friends and I posted his bail, Dumbass still couldn’t remember anything about what had happened, not even the color of her lipstick. Now, that, senators, is a true blackout.
So, I sit here before you today and confidently reiterate that I’ve never, ever blacked out after too many beers. In fact, I can remember every single thing I’ve ever done while I was drunk. It’s an extremely rare ability — almost supernatural, in fact — yet it’s both a blessing and curse.
Am I proud of the night I used my roommate’s Norelco Rotatract to shave old Skippy, the dog that served as the mascot for our arch-rivals at the Sigma Nu house? No, I deeply regret my actions. The sight of that bald and bewildered Irish setter — and it wasn’t pretty, senators — will haunt me forever.
Am I sorry about the time I locked a young pledge named Edwin Feldspar in a basement crawl space, unaware that he was both claustrophobic and asthmatic? Yes, what I did was terrible, and to this day I send Edwin a personal Christmas card every year, even though he never responds.
My point is simple: Those freakish few — like myself — who possess total drunken recall can never forget anything that occurs after we’ve cracked a few beers (which, as I’ve mentioned, I like to do). Therefore, it’s absolutely impossible for the harrowing assault described by Dr. Christine Blasey Ford to have occurred all those years ago. No matter how trashed I was, I would have remembered every detail.
As a matter of fact, my memory of long-ago drunken events is often more accurate than my memory of sober ones. In any case, Mr. Chairman, I’ve taken enough of the committee’s time, and I’m eager to start preparing for my new role on the nation’s highest court.
It’s only noon here in Washington but, hey, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.