I was Brett Kavanaugh’s college roommate. He lied under oath.

I do not know if Brett attacked Christine Blasey Ford in high school or if he sexually humiliated Debbie in front of a group of people she thought were her friends. But I can say that he lied under oath. He claimed that he occasionally drank too much but never enough to forget details of the night before, never enough to “black out.” He did, regularly. He said that “boofing” was farting and the “Devil’s Triangle” was a drinking game. “Boofing” and “Devil’s Triangle” are sexual references. I know this because I heard Brett and his friends using these terms on multiple occasions.

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I can’t imagine that anyone in the Senate wants to confirm an individual to a lifetime appointment on the United States Supreme Court who has demonstrated a willingness to be untruthful under oath about easily verified information.

I do not argue that Brett or anyone else should be persecuted for teenage drinking antics that are common to many, many Americans. My parents once visited Yale unexpectedly to find that I was unresponsive in my dorm room after a long session at Mory’s where friends and I sang and drank from trophy cups way past our limits. I was not a choirboy, but—unlike Brett—I’m not going on national television and testifying under oath that I was. This is not about drinking too much or even encouraging others to drink. It is not about using coarse language or even about the gray area between testing sexual boundaries with a date and sexual abuse. This is about denial. This is about not facing consequences. This is about lying.

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