“Why Conservative Principles Are Like a Sacred Vow (And Why RINOs Keep Getting Dumped)”

Well, good morning, you magnificent band of Colorado patriots, the unyielding backbone of the Centennial State, where the Rockies stand tall and our resolve stands taller. Yesterday, I had what started as a perfectly ordinary coffee meeting in Douglas County (NO, not Victor Marx, that invite is still in the ether somewhere), that gleaming bastion of suburbia where, for the most part, folks still believe in God, guns, and limited government. I sat down with an up-and-coming candidate gunning for a local spot; we'll hear more from him soon enough, and one of his rock-solid backers, a fixture in both county and statewide conservative circles. Names? Irrelevant here, because this isn't about personalities; it's about the raw, unfiltered truth that bubbled up from our chat, the kind that exposes the festering divide in our own GOP ranks.

We kicked off with the usual pleasantries, how's the family, what's your poison (mine's black coffee, no soy nonsense), but it didn't take long for the conversation to veer into the meat: conservative values and principles. You know, those timeless pillars like personal responsibility, fiscal sanity, border security, and that little document called the Constitution that our Founding Fathers didn't just scribble on a napkin for fun. In Colorado, where the GOP should be a unified fortress against Denver's blue tide, there's a chasm vast enough to fly a 747 through. On one side, the true grassroots warriors like us, digging in our heels; on the other, the squishy establishment RINO types, pretending that the divide doesn't exist? That's not optimism; that's absurdity on steroids.

Now, here's where the conversation got good. Midway through, after I laid out my no-nonsense take on winning without compromising, echoing the great Donald J. Trump himself, “Winning matters and we’re tired of losing.”, because in business and politics, it's win or go home. That’s when one of them blurts out, "I didn't expect to hear that from you." Oh, really? Coming from my cutthroat business days, where deals are sealed with handshakes and broken with lawsuits, pragmatism is my middle name. But let's be clear: pragmatism isn't code for spinelessness. It's about outsmarting the enemy, not joining them for a sleepover.

As I mulled over that exchange, naturally, it hit me like a bolt from a Colorado thunderstorm: The “why” we true grassroots conservatives cling to our principles is eerily similar to marriage vows. Think about it. When you stand at the altar, in front of God, your rowdy family, and that one family member who's already three sheets to the wind, you pledge fidelity. "Forsaking all others," right? Sure, in this degenerate age, some Hollywood types scribble in clauses for "open marriages" where anything goes, polyamory, swingers' nights, whatever floats their ethically bankrupt boat. But traditional vows? They're ironclad: one partner, one commitment, no wandering eyes or hands.

Infidelity strikes? Boom, divorce papers fly in most cases, because that sacred bond is shattered. Trust? Obliterated. And here's the kicker: the cheater always comes crawling back, begging for forgiveness. "It was a one-time thing! I'll change!" Yeah, right. As the old saying goes, once a cheater, always a cheater. They'll promise the moon, then sneak off again the minute your back's turned.

That's precisely how we true grassroots (not those faux types) folks view our "marriage" to politicians who court our votes about their conservative clarity. We endorse you, we knock on doors in the blistering heat or freezing snow, we empty our wallets, and in return? We expect fidelity to those core conservative values and principles. Defending property rights like they're your firstborn, securing borders against the invasion (call it what it is, not some sanitized "migration" fairy tale), and upholding the Constitution without twisting it like a pretzel.

But oh, the betrayals! Take Jeff Hurd CD3, with his co-sponsorship with democrats of the GORP Act, trampling on property rights. Or Gabe Evans CD8 that Dignity Act fiasco, which is basically amnesty wrapped in a bow, handing out hall passes to foreign invaders who bypassed the line and crashed our national party uninvited. These aren't "undocumented dreamers"; they're rule-breakers undermining our sovereignty, straight out of the Constitution's playbook on repelling invasions.

Zoom in to Douglas County, the past CD4 race and Deborah Flora, who swore up and down she'd grind through the assembly process like a true conservative gladiator, only to bail when the winds shifted. "Plans changed," she says. Uh-huh. And we're supposed to just hug it out, pretend it's all peachy, and renew our vows? Please. That's like your spouse confessing to a fling and expecting you to bake them cookies.

Look, candidates, if you're itching to play footsie with the other side, “the Dems”, the moderates, the "bipartisan" sellouts, at least be upfront about it. Announce from the mountain tops: "Hey, folks, this is an open marriage. I'll flirt with progressives, compromise on everything from taxes to transgender nonsense, and maybe even co-sponsor a bill or two that guts the Second Amendment." Be honest! Don't whisper sweet conservative nothings to win our hearts, then stab us in the back with the famous saying, “You just don’t understand”.

I'm not saying barricade yourself in an echo chamber, talk to the lefties, sure. Debate them over a beer, explain why their socialist utopia is a one-way ticket to Venezuela 2.0. Show them the error of their ways with facts, logic, and a dash of sarcasm. But if they won't budge? Thank them politely and walk away. Don't bend your principles into an origami donkey to "get along." That's not leadership; that's cowardice of the worst kind, betrayal.

That's my unfiltered two cents. I genuinely enjoyed that coffee yesterday; it was a little eye-opening and reflective, and it reminded me of how outsiders view me: the die-hard purist who'd rather perish on the hill of conservative integrity than surrender an inch. Because if you don't have those principles, what do you have? A hollow shell, a party in name only, drifting like tumbleweed in the Colorado wind. Stay strong, Colorado true grassroots conservatives.