I like Elizabeth Warren because she’s never wavered when it comes to calling out the banking bad guys. She’s hardworking, earnest and I’m certain if you looked in her purse you’d find lipstick, mints and a tattered wad of Kohl’s cash.

What’s not to like?

Warren has spent her career with her teeth clamped on the ankles of Wall Street cheaters and mortgage lending scammers. She’s a Georgina Bailey in a landscape littered with too many Mr. Potters.

If she does emerge as the Democratic frontrunner, we should brace ourselves for Trump’s endless tweets about her Pocahontas-ness and similar rubbish. What else you got?

Elizabeth Warren is the first one of roughly 4,576 Democrats to officially announce she wants to compete for the party’s presidential nomination so she’s getting all the ink for exactly one hot minute.

I don’t think the savvy Senator from Massachusetts will win her party’s nomination because we are a shallow republic and too many people whine “but she looks like Hillary.”

(On the other hand, Trump looks like Voldemort so I’m not sure why physical appearance is relevant here.)

Elizabeth Warren, a dogged champion of the hardworking and harassed, is the anti-Avenatti, that clownish porn star lawyer who never met a mirror he didn’t love and scarily pondered a presidential run for about eight seconds last year. Avenatti’s presidential aspirations have been put on hold, we’re told, and we are hoping it’s the kind of hold you get when you call the cable company.

Your call is very important to them by the way.

But, no, Elizabeth Warren has sensible ideas and shoes and is, therefore, doomed. Decades of consumer advocacy mean nothing when you’ve got Beto out there droppin’ F bombs and being all charismatic and lanky.

I wouldn’t mind seeing a Warren/O’Rourke ticket but fear it would have rotten “optics,” a criminally overused word invented by pundits way back in 2018 to refer to how something looks rather than how it is. Warren’s chunky heels and Dress Barn jackets would make her seem maternal standing beside Beto, all toothy grins and floppy as a wacky waving inflable on a car lot. While I like them both, you put them on the same ticket and suddenly everybody’s thinking “Mom! Meatloaf!!!”

So what should we Dems do? I mean we only have 22 months to figure this out. Or as Trump might say while holding up two fingers: “this many.”

The time will pass quickly. Can any of you believe it was only 22 months ago that a fresh-faced bean counter named Mick (“Mick”) Mulvaney could only dream of being appointed Sorta Kinda Chief of Staff But Not Really? And doesn’t it seem like just yesterday, not 22 months ago, that Rex Tillerson took his perpetual scowl to North Korea to talk tough before Trump axed him for calling him a “moron”? Just 22 months ago, Beyonce was pregnant with twins and still made the rest of us feel fat.

Let’s do this quickly and bloodlessly, shall we?