I’ve always believed that the only incompetent nimrod I have the right to bitch about is the one I might have actually voted for. After all, he/she might have deeply disappointed me. If I never had any confidence in the dirt/douche-bag to begin with, how disappointed could I possibly be? I wouldn’t be bitching, I’d be gloating.
And bitching would just sound so strange:
“Holy Mother of shitballs and gravy, people!! That ignorant twit/twat who I wouldn’t ever have voted for even if someone held my beloved Glock 30 Gen3 .45ACP Subcompact with the ten-round mag to the roof of my first-born’s mouth actually turned out to be just as worthless as I figured they would be! Damn it! There I go being politically astute again. Please kill me now before I end up fucking voting again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”