When it comes to Trump vs. Clinton, my advice is to ... punt

Combine the time I’ve spent thinking about fantasy football (who should I play?), women (who should I try and get with?) and booze (where’s the party at?), and you’ll end up with about 90 percent of my brain’s output since I was 14 years old. Seriously. If I wasn’t married with kids, the number would be closer to 98.

A wasted life? Yeah, well, whatever. Have you cured cancer? Didn’t think so.

Anyway, in honor of the most ridiculous debate in presidential history, I will present a few metaphors concerning my life’s “work” as it relates to this election.

But first, let me tell you where I’m coming from: I’m voting for Hillary Clinton without a second thought. It’s not because I think she’s a great candidate, not because I think she will do great things, not because I think she’s perfect for the job. I’m voting for her because she is not Donald Trump.

Anyway, who doesn’t love a good metaphor?

FOOTBALL: A football game is 60 minutes. I’m 44 years old. I plan to live to around 85 or so. As such, it’s early in the third quarter for me. I’m doing good, not great when it comes to my economic life. Basically, I’m down 13-10 with 12:59 left in the third and I’m facing a 4th and 3 at my own 40 yard line. I’m going to punt. Hillary Clinton is my punt.

I’d vote for Trump if I were down 35-0. But I’m not. And neither is America. Things are markedly better than they were when Obama took over. Are things great? No. But things have stabilized. Trump is hail mary. We don’t need it. Don’t need the risk.

I’ll take my chances for the next four years with Clinton. Let my defense do some work. Regroup for 2020.

BOOZE: Hillary Clinton is a few fingers of bourbon before dinner, a glass of wine with dinner, maybe a nightcap after. You’ll wake up in the morning a little worse for wear, but you’ll be able to get on with it. Maybe you think twice next time, maybe you don’t, either way, life continues.

Trump is a 30-pack of Milwaukee’s Best and you’re going to drink until you puke, because that’s what happens when you buy a 30-pack of Milwaukee’s Best. It can’t end well. It never does. No one has ever bought a 30-pack of Milwaukee’s Best and looked back one day and said, “That was the right call.”

WOMEN: OK fine, Hillary is not my ideal. She seems too stiff. Teacher’s pet type. Whatever.

But Trump? Trump is the hot babe with sass and you think maybe, just maybe you’ve hit the jackpot only you find out later on that “sass” is just a cover for “batshiz crazy” and she ends up melting down your classic vinyl one day because she thinks you were hitting on her cousin Gina at Thanksgiving, which, for the record, you weren’t. You were just being cordial and, in fact, discussing the relative merits of PARCC testing for 6th graders. Metaphors are the best!!! Listen: I get it. I get the appeal of Trump. I’m attracted to the idea. I’m fine with an “outsider” getting the keys to the country for a few years. I’m fine with a conservative being in charge. We could probably use it.

But Trump cannot be that person. His debate performance was ridiculous. Loud, bombastic, full of lies and half-truths. He is not, in any way, presidential. I cannot see a path where a Trump presidency is good for America, short of everyone all of a sudden taking a keen interest in civics to make sure it never happens again.

Back to my metaphors: A punt is the right call right now. It really is. Let’s try and find the right conservative outsider for 2020, the right person for the job. Not just the first, loudest, craziest sexy gal to belly up to the bar.