Back when I was in college during the Jurrasic Era I had for one semester a roommate who had previously flunked out for being a drunk instead of a student and had again been admitted for a last chance. Of course, he repeated his last semester’s behavior and flunked out for good at the end of the semester. He spent every night at the frat house and then slept all day, rarely even going to classes. His frat’s social life was called The Broken Cherry and when conscious he sometimes told me of the goings on. They sounded exactly like Trump’s secretly recorded trash talk with Bush. BFD.
Yes, this is boorish maybe in the wrong circles but pretty common conversation at one time or another—when I was in the Navy, over a beer with friends, whatever. Words, not actions. Time for the PC hyperventilating to stop. The world is not a Safe-Place for tender snowflakes (and Hillary is not a newborn chicken).