Well, well, well, strap yourselves in, folks, because the Republican outrage machine is back in full throttle, and this time it’s over something so deliciously petty you’d think they’d mined it straight out of a preschool playground spat. Texas Rep. Jasmine Crockett, a Democrat with a mouth that could strip paint off a battleship, called Governor Greg Abbott “Governor Hot Wheels” at a Human Rights Campaign dinner in LA last weekend. Abbott, for those who don’t keep up with Lone Star lore, has been in a wheelchair since a tree turned him into a paraplegic piñata back in ’84. Naturally, the GOP pearl-clutchers lost their goddamn minds, screaming “Ableism!” and “Disgrace!” like a bunch of Victorian spinsters who just caught a glimpse of ankle. House Speaker Mike Johnson called it “shameful,” Senator John Cornyn labeled it “disgraceful,” and some backbench Texas Rep named Randy Weber is even pushing a censure resolution because apparently Congress has nothing better to do.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: Crockett’s jab was crude, crass, and about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the nuts. It’s the kind of line that makes you wince and chuckle at the same time, like watching a drunk uncle ruin Thanksgiving. Is it the pinnacle of political discourse? Hell no. Should she have said it? Probably not, if only because it’s low-hanging fruit and she’s supposed to be smarter than the average barstool loudmouth. But let’s not kid ourselves—Crockett’s a politician, not a saint, and politicians are paid to sling mud, not sing Kumbaya. She’s claiming it wasn’t about his disability but his “planes, trains, and automobiles” migrant-busing shtick, which sounds like a flimsy dodge, especially since she’s “liked” Facebook posts calling Abbott “Hot Wheels” back in 2021, before the busing even started. So, yeah, she’s full of shit on that one. Call it what it is: a cheap shot with a side of plausible deniability.

Here’s the kicker, though—the Republicans howling about this like it’s the end of civilization are the same clowns who’ve spent the last decade cheerleading Donald Trump, a man who’s turned insults into an art form so grotesque it’d make Caravaggio blush. These are the folks who guffawed when Trump mocked a disabled reporter, Serge Kovaleski, in 2015, flailing his arms like a malfunctioning windmill while the MAGA crowd ate it up. They didn’t bat an eye when he called Joe Biden “Sleepy Joe” or “Crooked Joe,” implying the guy’s a senile criminal, or when he branded Hillary Clinton “Crooked Hillary” so hard it stuck like gum on a shoe. Let’s not forget “Pocahontas” for Elizabeth Warren—a racial jab so lazy it’s almost impressive—or “Low-Energy Jeb” for Jeb Bush, which buried that poor bastard’s campaign faster than a Florida sinkhole. Hell, Trump once suggested Ted Cruz’s dad killed JFK and still got the guy’s endorsement. And who could overlook “Little Marco” Rubio, a nickname that made the senator sound like a mob accountant who lost the books?

The point is, Trump’s been hurling playground taunts and septic-tank-level zingers for years, and the GOP didn’t just tolerate it—they made him their golden calf. They built a whole cult around a guy who’d call Mother Teresa “a nasty hag” if she crossed him, and now they’re out here clutching their Bibles and fainting couches because Crockett dared to get a little spicy? Give me a fucking break. This isn’t about decency; it’s about selective outrage. If Trump had called Abbott “Hot Wheels,” they’d be selling T-shirts with it at the next rally, right next to the “Let’s Go Brandon” hats.

Crockett’s no hero here—she’s a loudmouth opportunist who’d probably call her own grandma “Dustbag” if it got a laugh—but she’s got every right to throw a verbal Molotov cocktail or two. Politics ain’t a tea party; it’s a cage match, and the second you start whining about hurt feelings, you’ve already lost. The GOP’s crocodile tears over this are so transparent you can see their tax-cut agendas through them. They don’t care about Abbott’s dignity—they care about scoring points. Meanwhile, Abbott’s no victim; he’s a ruthless operator who turned a personal tragedy into a multimillion-dollar lawsuit, then spent his career making sure nobody else could do the same. If he can dish out hardball policies, he can take a nickname.

So, let’s cut the sanctimonious crap. Crockett’s “Hot Wheels” line was a dumb, mean-spirited jab—big deal. She’s not the first to cross that line, and she won’t be the last. The Republicans clutching their pearls over it while worshipping at the altar of Trump’s insult factory are the real joke here. Hypocrisy this blatant deserves its own exhibit in the Smithsonian. Next time they want to cry foul, maybe they should check their own guy’s rap sheet first. Until then, Crockett’s got the floor—and the mic. Deal with it.