Psst! While everyone was obsessing over Mika’s face…

A prescript before punditry: I’ve been called ugly all my life. 

When I was 13, I finally received a compliment from a pretty girl. She said, “You have the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, but the rest of you ain’t sh-t.”

When you get called unattractive as often as I have, you gain a different perspective on things. 

At 8 p.m. on the East Coast last night, the temporary travel ban that once had legions of liberals in hysterics went into effect. The timing was impeccable, because on the west coast, all of the hacks on the comedy scene were hitting up open mics at 5 p.m. No time to react politically when you’re furiously polishing up your penis jokes.

A couple of hours before, the House of Representatives passed two bills regarding how we treat illegal immigrants. “Kate’s Law” — which should have passed long ago because we reflexively approve of bills named after pretty girls — increased penalties on illegal immigrant felons. It was a favored cause of former Fox News host Bill O’Reilly, who is a former Fox News host because his approval of pretty girls bordered on civil liability.

The other bill denies federal money to sanctuary cities, municipalities who refuse to cooperate with immigration officials. The bill has stalled because it’s authors didn’t remember to look through a book of cute names first.

All three proposals once had my liberal friends furious, but that’s no longer the case. Not because they approve. No, they cried havoc and let slip the dogs of war about this…


To be honest, I don’t like that face, either. She looks like the hatchet lady who handed severance checks to a dozen of my coworkers when the news industry contracted.

It was probably once a very pretty face. And the president of the United States tweeted that he believed liberal TV pundit Mika Brzezinski had surgery to maintain its comeliness. I’m being nice. Basically, the dude said she desperately needed plastic surgery.

Now, how does this play to a guy like me? I know it’s inappropriate, but I’m also immune to it. You’re ugly, too? You’re not OG ugly like me, but whatever. Welcome to the club. There’s plenty of room.

The benefits of being inoculated from “yo face so ugly” jokes means I can see the bigger picture with sober eyes:

President Trump’s tweets don’t limit his agenda. If anything, they provide him cover while he advances. Three priorities of his moved on while social media blew up over somebody’s face. You think he cares? He was probably laughing his ass off in the Lincoln bedroom and asking the First Lady to parade around in a purple teddy.

None of this is to tell you that the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. is a swell guy. Politicians insulting pundits over their looks didn’t start yesterday. Al Franken wrote a book called “Rush Limbaugh is a Big, Fat Idiot” and he’s in the U.S. Senate.

It surely isn’t to defend Mika and her beta male soon-to-be husband. I don’t believe they’re to be trusted and besides, if the XFL drew better ratings, you’re not that important, anyway.

It’s to let you know whenever cable news and your social feed rages with the intensity of 1,000 burning suns over the latest comment from @realDonaldTrump, reel in your self-righteous indignation and cast your line elsewhere in the lake of political fire. Something more impactful is being done elsewhere.

Take it from an ugly guy.

A political take that has nothing to do with politics

Hi.

Please accept the tasty non-caffeinated beverage I’m offering.

I don’t want to insult you, call you some name or tell you your opinions are wrong. Part of me wants to, but I won’t. We can have differences in opinions. That’s cool. If we all thought alike, nobody learns.

But some of your friends who voted the way you did want you to cool down. Just like I do.

Because you’re bringing us down, man. We accept that politics make up a part of your life, but not the whole thing. And we want to see that non-partisan cool stuff about you that didn’t have a damn thing to do with hating on one man.

Sometimes, your fury is scarier than the guy you hate, to be honest.

I’m a divorcee. I’ve never met an angrier person than my ex-wife. Why she left me, without going into all the details, was because she said her parents pressured her into getting married and she changed her mind. When I rebounded rather quickly, she sank into a rage that lasted for decades. Blind, seething, nonsensical wrath.

It’s not healthy to let such hatred build until it floods your being. More than that, it frightens the people around you. Not only did my ex- vex my family and I, her own parents asked me to pray “that she stops acting so crazy.”

I see this behavior in your tweets, posts and comments about you-know-who. I’ve seen some of you post as many as 10 times a day about the guy. I’ve seen some of you post 10 times each hour about the guy. Your punditry is not changing minds as much as it is scaring people.

Run the numbers: Say you post 10 times per day about the president-elect. Well, his candidacy ran about 500 days. The transition period is 74 days, I think. His presidency, if it’s one term, would be 1,461 days. So from the time dude and his mail-order bride came down the escalator at Trump Tower until he leaves — if it’s a one-term deal — you would have posted at least 20,350 times about the guy.

And you don’t think we got the message yet?

I cringed just now. I know of a few of you who made it their mission to tweet Trump about 10 times an hour. Assuming eight hours for sleep, which I doubt those people get, that’s as many as 233,760 posts.

That’s not patriotism. That’s illness. As your friend, I’m asking you to recognize and correct this problem. This isn’t a joke. There isn’t a fine line between being driven to support a cause and delusion. There isn’t a line at all. It’s marked with glowing signs and people waving their arms, begging you to pull your fingers back from the keyboard until you post a picture of a selfie with a kitten instead.

I’m not asking you to accept the guy, but to wean yourself off of this cascading fountain of lava that scorches you and all around you.

Your well-being depends on it.

How I knew Trump would win; no gloating

Up front: I have no idea if Donald Trump will make a good president.

Also, I make no analysis of policy here. I’m not here to gloat about a Trump victory I didn’t stump for. I’m not here to claim it’s about the wall or Hillary’s infamous “basket of deplorables” comment. I have ideas, but of that I am not certain.

All I was certain of was what I saw in a swing state that I have lived in for the last year. I’ve been all over Florida, from the “redneck Riviera” of the panhandle to Miami. I learned what parts of Florida were deep red, deep blue and purple.

I knew before the national polling experts and pundits that Florida, at least for this election, would go for Trump. As such, so likely would the presidency. Here’s how:

You might have heard about the “I-4 corridor” in the national news. Interstate 4 cuts through central Florida like a backslash on a keyboard, from Daytona Beach, westward through Orlando and Tampa/St. Petersburg. It’s a curious 133-mile long swath of the state, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico. It includes the site of NASCAR’s signature event, Disney World, franchises from the top five team sports in the USA and a gorgeous drive across Tampa Bay.

It’s also noteworthy in that north of the interstate is blood-dripping Republican red — Jacksonville, the Panhandle, etc. South of I-4, by a three-hour drive on the turnpike, Miami is midnight Democrat blue. So I-4, which has both urban areas and rural, is mixed. Win I-4. You likely win the state. You also are in excellent position to win the presidency.

I often work in Sanford, infamous for the Trayvon Martin killing. Both Trump and Hillary Clinton held events in that little town. Trump drew thousands. Hillary drew hundreds.

When I leave Sanford, I take I-4 home. There are three pedestrian bridges before I reach my destination. For weeks, people lined the first bridge holding Trump/Pence signs. They also bought billboards on the side of the freeway and built their own on major roads. Not the campaign, mind you, regular people. Some signs were likely illegally placed on the side of the highway for Trump. I saw nothing for Hillary.

I also drove I-4 in its entirety to Tampa to see two NFL games. Same story, except for pedestrian bridges. I saw people shill for Trump at a tailgate for a Rams-Bucs game.

When the “Access Hollywood” tape surfaced, I saw people line the streets in front of Altamonte Mall with their “Make America Great Again” signs. I saw four get out the vote demonstrations last weekend before Election Day. These areas allegedly went for President Barack Obama in two elections. (I don’t know for sure. I wasn’t here.)

I saw the power of belief — where it wasn’t enough to simply vote. People had so much faith in the candidate they wanted to spread the word like gospel. Republicans don’t do that stuff. Democrats specialize in that.

I spent three days in the pro-Clinton Miami area and saw nothing like that. No bumper stickers. No flash mobs. Nothing.

This is something millions never saw in the press or in their own security bubble of California. When I tried to be the canary in the coal mine, I was shouted down by people who weren’t here. I was dismissed by people who claimed to know Florida would automatically vote Clinton because what California says goes.

Now many of you are shocked and angry. I tried to warn you.

Instead, you in California want to blame Florida, the same state that voted for Obama. That’s not a particularly fair response.

Here’s what you don’t know about Florida. Here, people say, “I like Hillary because…” or “I don’t like Hillary because…” In California, it’s “If you don’t like Hillary, eff you.” There’s a huge difference. Californians are not interested in political discourse. They are only interested in capitulation.

I never even argued in favor of Trump. Marco Rubio was my guy in the primaries, although I eventually voted for John Kasich because Rubio took the bait of Trump’s taunting. It didn’t sit well.

But on Election Night, I sat in an easy chair and watched my Facebook feed go from premature gloating to impatience and ultimately, rage. 

Permit me one nongloating political forecast: The Democrats and liberalism are not dead. They have four years to figure something out. Maybe they’ll even have an idea or two in time for the midterms. If I see energy for that outside of the Calibubble, I’ll be honest enough to let you know.

It’s OK not to vote

When I was in journalism, the editors would copy and paste the same editorial on the opinion page leading up to Election Day every two years. This Xeroxed prose would state that this particular election was vital to the future of the republic and you have a responsibility to go to your local booth, stand in line, make sure your chad doesn’t hang, and get your oval sticker.

Hogwash.

Let not your conscience be bullied by hyperpartisan hyperventilation. If you look at this choice and think it’s a decision between a bucket of excrement and a pail of vomit, you have every reason to stay home, turn on your PlayStation and avoid this pathetic drama disguised as political discourse.

Full disclosure for the uninitiated: I’m a conservative. I’m not a #NeverTrumper. If he wins, so be it. To be honest, the former stand-up comic in me thinks it would be hilarious. His candidacy will run about 500 days, which is about one-eighth of the amount of time Hillary’s been campaigning for the gig, I might add. When you consider how your social media feeds have been blanketed with a nonstop anti-Trump fury for 500 days, and he could still win? Yeah, it’s kind of funny.

That is not to be confused with Trump support. I can’t look you in the eye — whoever you are — and give you compelling reasons to vote for the guy. What am I supposed to call him, Reaganesque? He’s not even Gingrichesque. I’ve seen him lie on TV, and that should give you pause if you want that wall built, taxes cut, deficits reduced, ISIS defeated swiftly, etc.

Your skin should crawl with what was said about a Latino judge being unfit to serve based on race.

If you’re offended over the “Access Hollywood” recording, am I supposed to tell you to shut up and deal with it? Hell no.

Having said that, if you’re on the fence about Hillary Clinton, you should consider staying home, too. Trump lies, but much of what he said in the second debate about Hillary? It was absolutely true, despite hundreds of newspapers willingly looking the other way. Consider that her supporters are breaking out the party hats today over the fact that the FBI won’t indict her over an email scandal. … A qualified candidate is not supposed to be considered for an indictment in the first place.

She does tell you one thing and act in an entirely opposite way. She does publicly decry big banks to you while asking them for their donations. She does publicly support victims of sexual abuse, unless doing so stands in her way. Put it this way: defending a man accused of child rape is a needed tool in our justice system. Spiking the football by laughing about winning the case? That’s disgusting.

Bernie Sanders did get screwed, too. And how in the hell does someone go from being flat broke to having $250 million in about a decade when all she and her husband do is give speeches? At least when Tony Robbins gives a speech, he’ll walk on hot coals and potentially burn himself.

While she is technically running for a third Obama term, she’s not him. Millions of fair people have legitimate concerns about wages, employment, terrorism and health care.

Voting for her? If you’re passionate about it, go for it. If not, and you want to watch “The Flash,” enjoy yourself.

I’ve been on this planet for longer than I care to admit. No election has made me this sad, and that is telling. I’m not sad over “my guy” losing. That’s not my guy. I don’t look at elections that way, anymore. If I’m unhappy, I can only imagine what many of you feel. Nauseated? Exhausted? Irritable? Wanting to give strangers the finger? 

Run the country? Hell, I wouldn’t even invite Trump or Clinton over for a slice of Dominos Pizza.

The upshot is this: partisans care. Many of you don’t. If they care, let them have their say. If you don’t care, your vote might blot out the impact of their ballot.

If you hate the options, you have a moral responsibility not to vote if doing so negates the choice of someone who cast their ballot after careful consideration. You are not under an obligation to support a friend who gave you a “Make America Great Again” bumper sticker, neither if you are told it’s about time a woman runs things.

You don’t need a sticker on your shirt to show to everybody that you used your brain on Election Day.

If you want to stay home, do it.

This year, it doesn’t make you less of a patriot.

I’m voting for myself

Unlike millions of people, I’ve been at peace regarding the upcoming presidential elections for quite a while. I preferred Marco Rubio, although I eventually voted for John Kasich in the Florida primary.

Donald Trump won the nomination. OK. So be it. I basically sat back and went about my business.

I’m not a #NeverTrumper as much as I am a #We’reGettingAHorriblePresidentRegardless guy.

Soo… I’m writing in myself on Election Day.

This is not some hacky joke request for you to vote for me, like that brutally unfunny Bud Light Party ad campaign. It’s simply a private protest vote.

I can’t argue for any of you to vote for Trump, and that was before Friday’s little bus bomb. I’ve caught the guy lying, too. Trump is an alpha male with an incredibly strong mindset. He is the guy who can look you in the eye five seconds after saying something messed up, then deny he ever said it in the same breath. It’s an incredible nontalent.

Um, but Hillary Clinton has that same disease. Oh, she most certainly does. She confessed to it in yesterday’s WikiLeaks dump. Boots on the ground in Syria? Wall Street can be trusted to solve Wall Street? I have a public position and a private position?

Both sides have supporters — millions of them — who will back them no matter what. Trump was absolutely right when he said he could shoot somebody in broad daylight and still get millions of votes. 

The most telling poll question I’ve seen during this cycle was a secondary question asked by Fox News two weeks ago, where Clinton led by four points. The secondary question was “Why are you voting for this person?” The No.1 response wasn’t the economy, immigration, terrorism, etc. it was “to keep the other candidate from winning.”

So it doesn’t matter what Trump says. Hard-core Trump supporters want to keep the Clintons out. And to the hard-core Clinton backers, the top priority is to keep Trump out. It’s not patriotism. It’s cheerleading.

Many of you have this bottomless well of anger for the other candidate. It kind of scares me a little.

Your arguments, they’re not good enough for me.

Oh, I’ll vote. I want Rubio in the Senate, for example. I like him… Until further notice.

But for all the bluster about Bill Clinton’s actions and Hillary’s smear campaign is worse than what The Donald said. For the gale force of “nobody gives a damn about what WikiLeaks uncovered,” I have a cold splash of water for the lot of you.

People know both candidates are miserable, contemptible, loathsome, dirty, bottom-feeders. Both of ’em. All of your venom, your bluster, your memes from “RightWingNews.com” and Occupy Democrats, your GIFs, your “if you vote for this person, I won’t be your friend anymore” Facebook posts.

All the newspaper endorsements for Clinton? How do these editors feel knowing that Clinton has already been embroiled in scandal and we haven’t even voted yet?

None of all of this fury disguised as political discourse changes the fact that they are both ugly people.

Women do care about misogyny. He needs women to vote for him.

Bernie Sanders’ voters do care that Clinton has been bought by Wall Street, and they fear going to war in the Middle East. She definitely needs the millennial vote.

Trump began his candidacy about 500 days ago. That’s 500 days of your unrelenting wrath. But how does it feel to spend all of that energy knowing that both of them have a profound sickness at the core of their being?

And you want me to argue in favor of Trump? Or hold back vomit and vote Clinton?

Who wins this election? No idea. But I do know the essence of my conservatism is based on self-reliance. Many falsely believe in her, or him. I believe in myself.

And when some poor chump at the Florida Department of Hanging Chads has to tally the ballots, he’ll look at one and ask “Who the hell is James Curran?”

That’s good enough for me.

Brace yourselves: I think the dude is going to win Florida

A “decision 2016” report from a swing state:
I have now seen both major party candidates for president speak in person — DT in Jacksonville and HRC in Kissimmee. (Some readers will note I hate using the candidate’s names because in our hypersensitive times, even the name of the candidate draws an odd, almost nonsensical, amount of anger.)

Why both major candidates? Celebs don’t impress me much. You know how it is when you live in Los Angeles. But I saw President Reagan speak. Seeing a president or a potential one? That impresses me. President Obama came to Orlando after the Pulse nightclub terrorist shooting. Had his event been a public one, I would have gone.

Anyway, I’m in Florida now. It goes like this. I have no clue about the general election, but I think the dude is going to win this state.

She (again, avoiding names) spoke to about 3,000 where I saw her. Not bad, but there are two problems.

One, had I known the Pulse nightclub shooter’s Dad was in the house, I probably would have passed.

Two, the male candidate had two rallies the day I saw him last week. He allegedly spoke to 8,000 at one in Daytona. Where I saw him in Jacksonville, he covered the floor and the lower bowl of an arena just a little smaller than where the Anaheim Ducks play. The campaign called it 15,000. I think that’s an exaggeration. I think it was about 10,000.

I also see far more bumper stickers and signs for him than her in most of the state. Heck, some people created their own signs for him. I even saw some for Bernie Sanders, but I see very few HRC bumper stickers around much of the state.

There is an energy to the DT campaign in this swing state.

For HRC to win Florida, it appears Debbie Wasserman-Shultz is going to have to carry Miami by an insane margin. And I’m not driving four hours to hear either of them speak down there. This political hobby of mine is a little silly, but I’m not that obsessive. If I were, please notify the Secret Service.

I offer no analysis of what either candidate said. I don’t trust either of them. I can only offer this semi-anecdotal account of enthusiasm plus the sheer volume of people willing to see the candidates.

I will also concede that his rally was a lot louder and raucous. There were more protestors at his rally, including the weird ones. Some idiot dressed as Pikachu with a sign begging “Mr. Trump, please don’t deport me.” I have no idea what nationality the guy was or if he was a natural-born citizen. I wanted that nut deported.

Some of his supporters were only too happy to confront the protestors. I didn’t see any fights, but that rally wasn’t a completely calm event, either. Neither side in Jacksonville was morally pure.

But Florida is a purple state. I like living in a purple state. Most people here are content letting you have your opinions because most of us don’t adhere to a party line like it’s holy writ. I spent most of my life in California, where over time it became not just left-leaning, but midnight blue. It’s incredibly difficult to have a conversation in that environment. I know far too many people there who aren’t interested in polite debate. They are only interested in capitulation.

Meanwhile, I saw billboards in Texas demanding the state leave the union. That’s not just right-leaning, that’s blood-dripping red. I liked a lot of the area around Dallas, I must say, but I’m not sure I want to live in that state, either. I don’t want to be surrounded with people who vote conservatively like I do.

I’m comfortable enough with my beliefs to have them respectfully challenged.

So we know from experience that she will win California no matter what and he will win Texas no matter what. The electoral maps tend to be the same for the last 20 years with the exceptions of states such as Ohio and Florida.

And I’m telling you, like it or not, the gut feeling here is he wins Florida.

Terrorists have France on the ropes

I hope to keep this brief because terror attacks bring me down. I like to keep things light and a little hopeful on this blog. It’s hard to do that after what happened in the last year — in Paris, San Bernardino, Orlando and now back to France in Nice.

Despite reports to the contrary, the terrorists are winning in France.

I’m not here to score political points for a conservative movement. Even if I wanted to, President Obama is out of office in less than a year, anyway, so what’s the point?

Ever since 9/11, we’ve heard a variety of things that we have to do “or the terrorists win.” We have to live our lives or… We have to show Muslims we accept them or… We have to shop in the mall or… We have to fly an American flag attached to the passenger window of our SUV or…

You get the idea.

All of those ideas pale in comparison to one thing: If you concede terrorists cannot be stopped, the terrorists win.

To repeat, I’m not suggesting Obama has waved a white flag.

But these quotes from French politicians sound like a concession speech to me:

“Times have changed and France is going to have to live with terrorism.” — France prime minister Manuel Valls

“The question is, are we able to prevent it? And my answer would be, unfortunately no.” — Nathalie Goulet, head of the France’s Foreign Affairs and Security Committee

Wrong. No, those quotes are worse than wrong. If you allow yourselves to accept terrorism, you lose. It’s just that simple. 

A government that shrugs its shoulders and advises its citizens that it cannot keep them safe is not a just government. More than anything else, that is a fundamental purpose of a government. Consider: a government passes laws, imposes taxes, etc. If terrorists don’t follow these laws and you won’t stop them, then why should I, the private citizen? I have to protect myself.

That is one step closer to anarchy.

If France’s elected leaders cannot say they can keep their citizens safe, France needs a new government.

On the plus side, I think both of our major political candidates get that basic tenet. On Fox News’ “The O’Reilly Factor” on Thursday, presumptive Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton didn’t use talk as tough as her Republican challenger, but one of the main points of her argument was particularly insightful. Host Bill O’Reilly mentioned sending in NATO troops, which splits the burden amongst nations along with the United States.

“Let’s not kid ourselves,” she replied. “If we do that, America will have to lead.”

You’re damn right, Madam Secretary. We will have to lead, because France will not.

Whatever you want to say about Clinton or Donald Trump, I sleep better at night knowing that both of them recognize when other nations accept a new reality of terrorism, we won’t. The United States, for all of its flaws inside its borders, is ready to take command when people outside the borders threaten our way of life.

I don’t claim to know how to defeat terrorism.

But what I do know is accepting it won’t keep us safe.

Shrillness overload

I don’t even know who Jesse Williams is.

He probably said something worthwhile. It may have been a glorious address that rivaled the Sermon on the Mount, for all I know.

For the record, it’s not Jesse Williams’ fault that I don’t know what Jesse Williams said. I have absolutely nothing against Jesse Williams, I believe.

Because social media has been a relentless procession of anger hurricanes for the last few years, I can’t take another speech, even if it’s worthwhile or beneficial.

I’m tapped out of rage, indignation, self-righteousness.

Consider that Williams — who has been a trending topic for two or three days regarding something at the BET Awards — inspired a furious Grade 5 downpour of political tweets and posts after social media became Hurricane Screw Brexit, which was preceded by Tropical Storm Congressional Sit-In. And this was all within the last seven days.

Not to mention the fact that I live in Orlando and millions of people who have never set foot in Florida condemned me as the cause for being a conservative Christian, as opposed to the guy screaming “Allahu Akbar” and with more firepower than a warship.

For the last year, I can’t turn on any app without seeing memes about Donald Trump.

How am I supposed to have deeply held convictions about all of these topics? Heck, how does anybody have deeply held convictions about all of these topics?

It’s too much.

I miss the days when pretty girls used to take happy photos and post them on social media. I think they still do on Instagram. Please Lord, I hope they still do on Instagram. Even if I don’t have a chance with those girls, it’s much more uplifting to admire beauty than it is to shovel this much anger manure.

Just now, I looked up who Jesse Williams is. OK. He’s an actor on “Grey’s Anatomy.”

Perhaps one day I’ll read what he said. Hell, there’s a fair chance I agree with his opinions right now without having read them in the first place.

But I’m here to tell you, I’d be more willing to hear what he had to say when he said it if people picked their spots instead of flooding the “cause of the day” on my feeds.

Vote for who you trust… No, not those lunkheads

Do both major political parties’ presidential candidates make your skin crawl? Does the idea of voting for either of them give you a rash?

I have an idea, and no it’s not something as wasteful as a third party candidate. This is wasteful and fun.

I learned long ago my vote didn’t count. Until last year, I had lived all my life in California — the Inland Empire, which is nowhere near as regal as it sounds; San Diego; Hollywood; the Bay Area and a miserable year in Redding. I know that state as well as a Sacramento resident knows how far their index finger has to plunge to reach the maxillary sinuses.

California, in terms of its politics, is a hopeless state. Not that being liberal is inherently hopeless. The Democratic Party is so dominant out there it could nominate members of the Stanford swim team for the governorship and it would be a slam dunk.

The state is not simply blue. It is midnight blue. It is so blue that voting there no longer matters. Getting that little “I voted” sticker isn’t an act of thoughtful patriotism as much as it is an “I’m toeing the line” accoutrement. No Republican has held a major office in that state since Arnold Schwarzenegger left to peddle smartphone apps. But it’s not just a red/blue issue. Smart, capable and ethical people within the Democratic Party can’t challenge who the DNC wants in office because that machine will squish you.

Consider that the current governor doused us all in toxic pesticides in the late 1070s when he ran the state back then. Since his return, he took away all local control to combat blight and cut their allowances of water so much residents have to bathe with an eye dropper and their own spittle.

And that’s the best either party had to offer?

So yeah, your vote doesn’t count if you live in the Golden State.

Even worse, if you don’t live in the Golden State, why would you want to vote for either of the two major parties nominees? I could list their profound faults, but you already know. You know how whack both of them are. It would be an insult to your intelligence to tell you, as if you didn’t already know.

So what to do?

There has been a half-assed push to write in “none of the above,” but to hell with that. As jokes go, it’s pretty lame.

Do something that respects your own intelligence.

Vote for yourself. Write your own name on the ballot.

I have already voted for myself. I did so when George W. Bush ran for re-election in 2004. He wasn’t going to win California’s electoral college votes from John Kerry. So I thought it over at that little fiberglass closet, scratched my ass and wrote in my name.

At the time, I thought it was hilarious. Somewhere, after counting the millions of votes for Bush and Kerry, somebody got paid by the Feds to write “James Curran — 1 vote, 0.0000000001 percent.”

Which technically means, my vote counted.

Afterward, I held a one-man victory party with some ice cream sandwiches, a six-pack of Coors Light and watched “Pinky and the Brain” DVDs.

You may not have all the answers, but you know enough not to start a nuclear war. You may not get all you want, but you probably don’t have the energy to battle Congress over their objections to “National Nude Hooters Girl Day” so it’s not like you’ll be ramming horrifying legislation we don’t want down our throats like the last dozen or so presidents.

Voting for the current candidates in California is a ballot that does not count.

Make your vote matter. Vote for the one candidate you do trust.

Write in your own name.

Quick howdy to my political buddies

Those who know me, feel free to advise those who don’t on my behalf: I’m not about to tell you who to vote for. You think I’m going to tell Democrats that they’re about to nominate a son of a bitch? Or the daughter of one? Who am I to talk? I’m fully aware my party already did nominate a son of a bitch.

You ain’t seeing me getting all defensive about your posts about you-know-who.

But I would like you to think twice about your memes, your links to a hot “news” item on conservativesuberalles.com or ifyouaintliberalyoureaworthlesspieceofshit.com. You know the posts. The ones that claim, for example, that Hillary Clinton is off to jail or the hand of God graced Bernie Sanders, and his supporters glowed the holiest of glows despite the fact that they were avowed atheists.

Because every election year — and this is a defined portion of the political calendar, I might add — pundits, pollsters and the permanently aggrieved shriek the shrillest of shrillness to keep you engaged in the electoral process. Put another way, to keep the fat cats’ checks coming and to keep you posting outright falsehoods that your candidate’s opponent is a cockroach in a tie or a pantsuit.

The political “silly season” is defined as such (italics from me): In US politics and lifestyle, the silly season is a period from early summer until the first week of October of election years. Primary elections are over at this time, but formal debates have not started and the general election is still many weeks away. Issues raised during this period are likely to be forgotten by the election, so candidates may rely on frivolous political posturing and hyperbole to get media attention and raise money.

In other words, your patriotism is being cynically used by politicians during a gorgeous time of year.

So why raise your blood pressure or mine? You can’t tell me something about any of the candidates right now that I don’t already know.

If OccupyDemocrats or Right Wing News sends you an alert that — for the good of the country — is an absolute must for your Facebook feed, know this: It isn’t. It’s childish name calling.

You know what would be more mature? To be a child again. Go outside and play. It’s summer, for Pete’s sake.