I fondled Lauren Boebert

Earl Fowler

I wasn’t going to say anything.

But now that it’s all over the internet thanks to those Radical Left agents at TMZ and the rest of the lamestream media, I can officially confirm that, yes, that is yours truly pawing at the deliciously soon-to-be-single Lauren Boebert in that graphic surveillance video footage from the Buell Theater in Denver. I’m coming clean.

I should say, up front as it were, that it wasn’t the Colorado congresswoman’s (alleged, LOL) now-that-I’ve-got-your-attention, how-do-you-like-them-apples boob job that most grabbed my attention. (Though speaking of grabbing, it is true that I am seen measuring, admiring and assessing the density of the even-better-than-the-real-thing implants on the toe-curling clip that was shot while we squirmed and squeaked in our seats at a Beetlejuice musical.)

We come for your daughter, Chuck.

It wasn’t just her hand tugging at my crotchety nether parts, which was surely the main reason for our getting the boot from the venue for supposedly “vaping, singing and causing a disturbance.”

For the record, I don’t remember singing.

I might have cried out a few times. “Sweet mother of all that is good and pure!” and other ejaculations along those lines. Being both a born-again Christian and the untrammelled id of working-class America (a distinction formerly held by Sarah Palin), it always revs up the Boeby endorphins when I quote the Scriptures that she knows so well. We like to think of it as missionary creep.

The vape rap is completely bogus. It was steam.

And it isn’t the cute things she says or tweets on X that really turn my apse. But boy, there have been some doozies since she was unexpectedly elected in the 2020 House of Representatives elections in Colorado:

“Why is it that so many of the Clinton Crime Syndicate end up dead?”

“Alcohol, tobacco and firearms. In western Colorado, we call that a fun weekend. But D.C. bureaucrats have used this agency (the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives) to infringe on the rights of the American people.”

The “easiest way to make the Delta variant (of COVID) go away is to turn off CNN (and) vote Republican.” That would free us of “Biden’s Needle Nazis.”

While introducing a bill to ban federal funding of research and publications into transgender health care for minors, she warned that kids are being “sexualized and used for horrific sexual ‘research.’ ”

On seeing Minnesota Democratic representative Ilhan Omar — whom she has called “a full-time propagandist for Hamas” — on a Capitol elevator: “It’s the Jihad Squad … she doesn’t have a backpack, she wasn’t dropping it so we’re good.”

Late last year, my personal L. Lovelace told two pious audiences, “we are in the last of the last days,” assuring them they would have a role in “ushering in the Second Coming of Jesus.”

And like that. Bring on Armageddon. Trigger the Rapture. My whole life is a dark room. Let’s turn on the juice and see what shakes loose.

My favourite was the remark about how, and I quote, “The church is supposed to direct the government. The government is not supposed to direct the church. That is not how the Founding Fathers intended it. And I am tired of this separation of church and state junk. It’s not in the Constitution.”

(Separation of church and state junk sorta is in there if one bothers to check the U.S Constitution’s Establishment Clause. Which is why it was kosher, I guess, for the Boebster to ask a group of Orthodox Jews visiting the Capitol whether they were doing “reconnaissance.” After all, with those long beards and suspicious outfits, they might have been Jihad Squad Hamas plants. “I’m too short to see anyone’s yarmulkes,” she later explained.)

Being a moral paragon and all, unlike those transgender pervs with their public displays of licentiousness, she has consistently argued for greater church power in U.S. government decision-making.

Evangelical churches, of course. Churches that, like her, oppose transitioning to woke green energy, woke gun control, woke COVID-19 mask and vaccine mandates, woke gender-affirming ideology, woke same-sex marriage, woke abortion and woke sex education (after all, that’s what audience-participation musicals are for).

After politically aligned but sexually charged rival Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (aka that little minx in her jaunty white coat) confused cold Spanish soup “gazpacho” with the “Gestapo" in a botched attack on then House Speaker Nancy Pelosi — ach du lieber and ay chihuahua — my little Boebird both raised the ante and confirmed her deep biblical scholarship bona fides by referring to “wonton killing” while reading a New Testament passage from Romans to a rapt crowd. Paul the Apostle, as is well known, was always a sucker for egg rolls and Kung Pao chicken.

I could rhapsodize all day in this chow vein. But as I say, it’s not her cute little sayings that really get my beetle juices flowing.

It’s not even the compulsive fibbing. The little white lies. The Trump-level deceit, the deception, the dishonesty, the disinformation, the distortion, the evasions, the fabrications, the falsehoods (I’m not even to the g’s yet) — the staggering incompetence of her attempts to cheat and beguile — and more, much more than this, how none of it matters one iota given the certainty that so many free thinkers in her district will slavishly vote for her again because she slavishly supports Trump, opposes abortion and is among the most pro gun-lobby legislators in American history. That makes her No. 1 with a bullet.

Before her Shooters Grill in Rifle, Colorado, went implants-up in 2022, staff members there (whom she stiffed on their wages to pay for those implants) were encouraged to carry firearms openly. Her claim that she obtained a “concealed carry” gun permit after a man was “beaten to death by another man’s hands … outside of (her) restaurant” was buncombe, of course. In fact, a man who had reportedly been in a fight ran to within about a block of the restaurant in 2013, collapsed and died from a meth overdose.

But what’s a little dissimulating? Equivocating? Misrepresenting? Padding? We’re all about the padding.

Knocked up at age 18 during her senior year in high school, which she never finished (finally earning a GED certificate in 2020, a month before her first election primary), my sweet Baboo registered to vote as a Democrat in 2006 when she was 19. She says her family depended on welfare (which she now wants to slash) when she was growing up in a Democratic household, though records show her mom was registered as a Republican until switching her allegiance to the Democrats in 2015, the year Trump first appeared on the scene as a candidate. Interesting family dynamic, I’ll bet.

Her mom, by the way, claimed that her father was pro wrestler Stan Lane, though paternity tests proved he wasn’t. Before the partner of Boebert’s 17-year-old son gave birth this year, our congresswoman touchingly revealed to The Denver Post: “My mom was 18 when she had me, which inspired me to be a mother when I was 18 years old.”

All in the family way.

As a 36-year-old grandmother, Bo knows the old Mary Kay Ash apothegm: God first, teen pregnancy second, career third. And for Christ’s sake, let’s cut off all funding to those woke atheist femnazis at Planned Parenthood.

Speaking of which. According to Boebert, she became religious while attending a church in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, and a born-again Christian in 2009. She has said she volunteered at a local jail for seven years, but attendance logs at the Garfield County Sheriff’s office show that she bestirred herself to visit a grand total of nine times, between May 2014 and November 2016. Maybe she met someone.

As a Christian with deep convictions, she has been performing attention-getting stunts and lying about her jobs, businesses, taxes, QAnon fantasies, disorderly conduct and careless driving citations, the Jan. 6 insurrection, the positions of Democrats and moderate Republicans ever since — as even a casual read of this Wikipedia article about her will show. If you have a strong stomach, knock yourself out:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lauren_Boebert#Political_positions

There’s so much more than I could get into here. But I’ll limit myself to the latest Wikipedia addition since, after all, I’m outing myself here as the male companion:

On September 10, 2023, Boebert and a male companion were evicted by security during a performance of the musical Beetlejuice in a theater in Denver, Colorado, after she caused a disturbance by vaping, singing, and recording the performance. Boebert initially denied having vaped as well as having caused a disturbance, writing on social media that she pleaded “guilty to laughing and singing too loud!” After surveillance video footage of the incident was released, she apologized for “(falling) short of her values” and vaping. She said that “she had previously denied it only because she did not recall having done so.” The video also showed Boebert and her companion appearing to fondle each other in their seats.

According to an incident report from a theatre official acquired by USA Today, the couple initially refused to leave after they were asked to exit the venue, with her lodging such Very Important Person Act protests as: “Do you know who I am?”

Well, September 10 was a very long time ago and it’s all a little hazy now. It’s not like she stuck her hand up my skirt the way Rudy Giuliani did to Cassidy Hutchinson on January 6, 2021, as the MAGA faithful prepared to storm Congress.

Could’ve been the whiskey. Might’ve been the gin. Maybe even a snootful of something. Wasn’t that a political party? However blurry the details, I’m quite sure I wasn’t wearing a skirt.

But the bitter truth is — no word of a lie — my sweet Babar now says she won’t see me ever again because she found out I’m a dirty, double-dealing Democrat. (Not strictly true because it’s even worse than that. I. Am. Canadian. But to her point — au fond, as we were brainwashed to say in French 101 — quelle est la différence?)

Speaking to TMZ at an airport in Washington, she lamented: “Ultimately, all future date nights have been cancelled, and I learned to check party affiliations before you go on a date. But all in all, it was mostly a lovely time, and I’ve taken responsibility for my actions.”

As have I by hereby revealing my identity. And it was a lovely time, except for the egregious East of Eden expulsion part.

Thus, there is absolutely no truth to the salacious report that the co-groper seen on the video is actually an Aspen bar owner whose establishment hosts drag shows and participates in Aspen Gay Ski Week. Or that the two have been quietly seeing each other for months. If that were true, it would almost hint at a small degree of hypocrisy.

To me, it was especially moving that BeetleBo’s husband, Jayson Boebert, now in the middle of divorce proceedings with the lasciviously Bible-thumping babe, took the blame for her uncontrollable concupiscence.

This is from Jayson’s Facebook post: “I am writing to address the deep concerns circulating. Watching the attacks against Lauren, I feel the people should know the truth of our broken marriage and burden she has carried for too long.”

Adds TMZ: “He goes on to praise Lauren as an exceptional mom, wife and grandmother — adding that she was a wonderful spouse and partner in their marriage ... that is, before he shattered her trust by cheating. It seems he’s attributing that to her decision to file (for divorce) in May.”

This is even more convincingly exculpatory when one considers that big-hearted Jayson was convicted of harassing and physically assaulting his then teenage queen in 2004, the year she had the first of their four boys. Was that before or after he was arrested for exposing himself to another teenager in a bowling alley? Really, who can remember anything beyond September 11? Damn your eyes, Ilhan Omar!

Memory makes the heart grow fondle.

But I haven’t told you what attracted me to Lorena Bobbitt — forgive me, make that sweet Loretta Martin — I mean Lauren Boebert! — in the first place. What really set my bombs bursting in air, giving proof through the night that our shag was still there?

It was this. The crucial element necessary to success in politics and pretty much all human endeavours, as the poets have told us, is neither joy, nor love, nor light, nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain. And certainly not intelligence or character. Rather, nothing succeeds like a self-delusional confidence in one’s non-existent talents and a bottomless sense of entitlement.

This is exemplified über alles by der americankanisch Führer, who is going to make the trains run on time again with subservient Black porters after the Boebbinator and her Freedom Caucus friends demonstrate that the American system of governance is irrevocably broken by forcing a debt default, thus triggering a recession and defunding the Exalted Leader’s Radical Left prosecutors.

She’s accomplishing all this while using our public woo-pitching as a public fundraiser. “Pitch in $5 to my campaign and help me fight back!” urges my spunky ex on a new post on X. I am so going to miss that indomitable spirit and breathtaking chutzpah.

But in the meantime, don’t weep for me, Bobentina. Turns out George Santos is free Friday night and just happens to absolutely adore musicals, darling! We’re in luck because this week at the Buell, Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is on the bill.

Even better, Marjorie Taylor Greene — who called Boebert a “little bitch“ during House proceedings while accusing her of copying her articles of impeachment against Joe the Antichrist — has lent Santos that dashing white coat with the giant fur collar that she wore while heckling Biden during this year’s State of the Union address. He’s hoping to pair it with Ron DeSantis’s white rubber gazpacho boots.

White is the supreme shade of all these very fine people. Favourite colour, I mean.

Santos, the representative for New York’s 3rd congressional district, has agreed to come as his drag queen alter ego, Kitara Rivache, who bears a rather uncanny resemblance to the Boobster, representative for Colorado’s 3rd congressional district. Only fitting, given their shared commitment to Republican family values and the Gospel Truth.

Oh, congresswoman. Won’t you swell that congressman?

The headline on the Sept. 19 USA Today story I quoted from reads: “Lauren Boebert jokes that she has ‘peacefully parted’ with date after they were removed from theater.”

It also quotes her as telling TMZ: “It’s always hard whenever there’s gravity put on the voters. I’m here to provide levity and lift burdens off of people.”

Which is precisely what the people were looking for in a congresswoman when they elected Bozo the Clown. It’s just as Moses and the rest of the Founding Fathers intended.

If I’m fibbing about that and inventing our whole relationship, well golly gee, what’s one more little white one in the grand scheme of things?

But this much is true.

Peaceful parting was such sweet sorrow that we played Trumplejuice, Trumplejuice, Trumplejuice in my wonton red Camaro. Thank you for your servicing and lie, lady, lie.