Nonpolitical insult season is open

By the time you read this America will soon be great again or the White House now has TRUMP written in gold letter across the front depending on which of my Facebook friends’ postings you believe. Personally, I don’t believe either, but I don’t have a BFPS (Bachelor of Facebook Political Science) degree like most of my friends, so I could be wrong.

With the inauguration almost over, it’s time for us all to take a minute to take a deep breath and wipe away the tears or have a cigarette and fall asleep before being forced to cuddle, depending on who you voted for. It’s a done deal ,and I think it’s high time we get busy insulting people because of their favorite sports team or the truck they choose to drive and forget all of this political nonsense for a while.

We don’t seem to be very good at this part of the election cycle anymore. I saw a car with an old Obama bumper sticker on one side saying, “He won, get over it” and another side a more current one that read, “Trump is not my President.” I couldn’t help but wonder if the driver understood the contradiction of his or her own vehicular graffiti.

Before you right-wing folks start high fiving each other and claiming the high ground, ask yourself if you ever sported a bumper sticker or posted a meme on social media claiming that “Charlton Heston is my president.” Check your timeline around late 2008 maybe…just saying the contradiction flows both ways. When it comes to politics we have become a lot like Doc Holliday in the movie Tombstone; it seems our hypocrisy knows no bounds.

That said, I once again urge you all to put this political season behind us while we have a chance. The 2020 candidates will start campaigning in another month or two,so we’ve to get our non-political insults in while we can!

So go home tonight and call your boss a freakin’ moron, not because you suspect he’s a libtard who voted for Hillary, but because he’s a lazy jerk who never put in a real day’s work in his life! Remember how much fun it was to hate your boss just for being a brown-nosing slug? Tell your wife about it, it’ll be a pleasant change of subject around the dinner table.

Speaking of wives, how long has it been since you filled your buddies at work in on that crazy wench? I don’t even have to know your wife to know that at least once in the last month she’s wanted to talk about your relationship while you were watching football. You need to get that crap off your chest before it kills you, man. I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure that suppressed rage over spousal relationship talks is a leading cause of cancer in men. You don’t want to play around with that!

Do you even remember the last time you walked over, popped open a beer and questioned your neighbor’s testosterone count because he has a Dallas Cowboy star on the back window of his truck … his Chevy truck? That guy is begging to be insulted, and you’ve been so hung up calling your brother-in-law a racist because he voted for Trump that you’ve completely neglected your neighbor’s cry for help. It’s your civic duty to remind him what a pathetic loser he is and you’ll feel better for doing it!

Ladies, I feel inadequately equipped to give you advice about griping in general, but I urge you to move past berating your husband because he voted for Trump. He’s still the inconsiderate, lazy, self-centered emotional dwarf that you married and you need to tell him so. You know you want to and you owe it to your relationship ... or so I’m told.

Social media users, please stop posting about politics and show me an inappropriate picture explaining why country girls are better. We all know you think liberals are traitors but we have no idea who you like in the Super Bowl. It’s time to post some more pictures of you grandkids but avoid showing us photos of your dinner … nobody wants to see that.

The election cycle is complete, and it’s time we get back to some good ol’ American fun. It’s your constitutional right to yell at the guy in the car next to you, not because of his bumper stickers, but because that idiot can’t drive! Live a little, tell him!

Rick Seley is an award-winning humor columnist. He may be reached at


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