Lets Talk about Brian

I’m not running because I want power. I’m running because I’ve watched what happens when the people who hold power stop fighting for the rest of us.

I was raised on the plains of Colorado and western Nebraska, where your handshake meant something, where your neighbors mattered, and where you learned early that if something was broken, you fixed it. I joined the U.S. Army Military Police and deployed to Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom. I’ve seen what real leadership looks like—and I’ve seen what happens when leadership fails.

For the past eight years, I’ve called Texas home. I’ve built businesses from the ground up. I’ve helped artists survive in an industry designed to starve them. I’ve created jobs, mentored veterans, and stood beside working families as they try to hold on to homes, dignity, and hope. And now I’m giving it all away—because the people who write our laws have forgotten who they’re supposed to serve.

This isn’t a political stunt. This isn’t some résumé-builder. I’m not interested in climbing any ladder—I’m interested in tearing it down and building a foundation that the rest of us can actually stand on.

Washington is broken, but it didn’t break on its own. It was sold off, piece by piece, by men and women who cared more about their next election than their neighbor’s next meal. They’ve let hedge funds buy our homes, let foreign companies buy our land, and let families drown while they cash checks from lobbyists.

And the truth is, both parties are guilty. The system isn’t rigged because it’s broken. It’s rigged because it’s working exactly as it was designed to—for them, not for us.

So here’s what I’m doing. I’m not asking for your blind trust. I’m giving you my word—and the receipts. I’ve already written over 70 legislative proposals. Not ideas. Not talking points. Bills. Ready to be filed. Ready to be voted on. Ready to fix what they’ve ignored.

Bills that:

• Guarantee working-class families the right to own a home with no credit check mortgages at capped interest rates.
• Ban hedge funds and corporations from buying up single-family homes.
• Force banks to honor VA loans with no strings attached and cap the interest at 3.5%.
• Restore freedom to farm, ending seed patents, protecting cross-pollination, and eliminating DOT restrictions on private ranch and farm vehicles.
• Return water rights to the people and create a National Water Service that answers to you, not private companies or corrupt state boards.
• Provide skills-based education tracks for high schoolers who want to graduate with a trade, not just a test score.
• End income tax and replace it with a national sales tax on luxury goods, while slashing waste by eliminating private military contractor careers that duplicate the jobs of active-duty soldiers.
• Split up Ticketmaster and Live Nation, mandate fair pay for musicians, and require DSPs to pay artists what they’re owed.
• Bring wild game and school-grown food back into our cafeterias, helping schools become 60% self-sustaining.
• Launch a national lake, river, and stream cleanup initiative, to restore our waters within six years.
• Make voting accessible, veterans protected, and communities stronger—with training centers, job guarantees, and support for family compounds that let generations live together and care for their own.
• Adding a broader scope to the definition of Gold Star Families, making it a Federal Holiday, and finally giving Long Term relationships and the emotional loss of Fiancé's the recognition they deserve. 

This is just the beginning.

In my first year in Congress, I will write and introduce more than 3,000 bills. And I will publish every single one online before it’s filed—so you can read it, question it, and even help rewrite it. No more laws passed in the dark. No more fine print that screws the working class.

Because when you shine a light on the system, it scrambles. That’s why they’ll call me extreme. That’s why they’ll try to ignore me, smear me, buy me off, or shut me down. But I don’t work for them. I work for you.

I believe in America. Not the sanitized version they sell at fundraisers, but the gritty, beautiful, complicated version—the one built by welders, waitresses, teachers, truckers, veterans, and single moms. The one where we don’t always agree, but we still show up, still help each other move a couch, still stand for something real.

This isn’t a campaign. It’s a movement. It’s a revolt of the working class. And if you're tired of being spoken to and ready to be spoken for—then let’s get to work.