From Virginia coal country, as election results trickled in, Jimmy McDonald texted his boss to warn he might need a day off Wednesday. Celebrations, it seemed, were in order.
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Last Friday night, I was busily channel surfing trying to avoid Donald Trump bloviating. One moment he advocates war crimes, the next he defends his penis size. (Clearly, the two
Editor:
I am writing this Letter to the Editor of the Santa Monica Daily Press, or as I should say, a Commentary of The Race of the Republican Presidential Primacy
