The House Ethics Committee have been busy, busy bees of late. This week they’re buzzing around three Republicans: Reps. Madison Cawthorn, Ronny Jackson, and Alex Mooney. It’s always the ones you most suspect!
North Carolina’s Boy Wonder, who got disinvited from the 118th Congress by the Deep State and/or his own constituents, will probably escape any consequence for his actions. Cawthorn’s likely to be groping his cousin’s junk in the private sector by the time the committee finishes its investigation. Nevertheless, it’s not a great mark on your resume when your colleagues vote unanimously to start an investigation into whether you may have “improperly promoted a cryptocurrency in which he may have had an undisclosed financial interest, and engaged in an improper relationship with an individual employed on his congressional staff.”
The cryptocurrency allegations probably relate to a Washington Examiner story all but accusing Congressman Frat Bro of participating in a pump and dump crypto scheme involving the Let’s Go Brandon coin. And let’s take a wildass guess that the “improper relationship with an individual employed on his congressional staff” relates to those videos of Cawthorn and his cousin/aide with their hands on each other’s peeners in a NO HOMO, BRO display of affection.
Whatever! Can’t wait to see the back of this pathetic manchild.
Next up: Rep. Alex Mooney, who just trounced a fellow Republican in a primary after West Virginia lost a seat in the latest Census. The allegations against Mooney are of the normal campaign finance variety, although they are impressive at least in number. The committee voted to investigate further after finding “substantial reason to believe” that Mooney had: “accepted impermissible gifts in the form of a trip to Aruba and free lodging and event space,” “used official resources for campaign work and personal errands,” “authorized impermissible MRA expenditures,” “withheld, concealed, or falsified information during the OCE’s investigation,” and “converted campaign funds from his campaign committees to personal use, or Rep. Mooney’s campaign committees expended funds that were not attributable to bona fide campaign or political purposes.”
Well. It’s a lot.
Our last contender for the rose is Ronny Jackson, AKA Dr. Candyman Feelgood, AKA White House photographer Pete Souza’s mortal enemy. Jackson, who served as White House physician under President Barack Obama, is best known for his alleged drunken antics, revealed publicly when Trump tried to appoint him head of the VA. So perhaps it will come as something less of a shock to readers of this mommyblog that the Texas congressman’s accounting may not be entirely on the level.
In short, he’s accused of violating FEC regulations and the House Ethics Manual by using campaign funds to pay “Dues, fees or gratuities at a country club, health club, recreational facility or other non-political organization, unless part of the costs of a specific fundraising event.” According to an Office of Congressional Ethics (OCE) report, Jackson “used campaign funds to pay for unlimited access to the Amarillo Club, a private dining club located in Amarillo, Texas” which “provides its approximately 850 members with numerous benefits, including fine dining, a wine program, a gym, and banquet and meeting room spaces.”
And we all know how much Congressman Ronny likes a nice glass of wine.
Although Jackson and his campaign treasurer refused to cooperate with the investigation, the club itself did respond to the committee’s queries. And that’s how the OCE worked out that the campaign had been paying for Jackson’s monthly dues, as well as his meals at the club, which would seem on its face to violate FEC and House regulations.
But Jackson and his campaign have an answer for that, and it is that they had to break the law to get the bulk discount — more or less.
Texans for Ronny Jackson purchased a membership at the Amarillo Club in Amarillo, TX in October 2020.1 The Amarillo Club provides members, among other things, access to free meeting rooms. The campaign purchased the membership, primarily, to use such meeting space for internal and external meetings, including but not limited to fundraising events, for campaign purposes due to the proximity of the Amarillo Club to the campaign’s office. The cost of such membership was determined to be less than the campaign would have spent on renting meeting space on an individual basis. While the campaign has not utilized the meeting space as frequently as originally anticipated, the campaign purpose of the expenditure nevertheless exists.
See, they intended to use the Amarillo Club for a whole bunch of campaign events, and renting out the meeting space every other week — as required by law — would have been super expensive. So instead they paid for an annual membership using campaign funds. But then they didn’t wind up using it for many campaign meetings after all. Anyway, it’s the thought that counts, right? So, we’re cool here?
Okay, that’s enough with this bunch of jackasses for today. LOCK THEM UP, etc.
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