Hate is such a strong word. I like that.

I’ve really been hating hard on 2025, and, clearly, I’m nowhere done yet.

Yeah, I join the other 74,999,165 voters who knew this was exactly what the nation would be suffering if they voted for Donald Trump.

But my free-flowing and general malaise is much more than just the constant headache I have from clenching my jaw so tightly as I roll through the national wire news as editor of this newspaper. I understand that, somehow, I have fallen into a parallel universe where reality, Saturday Night Live and discarded doggy doodie bags meld and ripple across the 2025 continuum.

As the squirrels, staring at me, munched on the last of my prized tomatoes and the cool and gray crept in this week, I realized how many things are driving me crazy. Whether i

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