I seem to have reached a sort of milepost in my detesting of the Moron in Chief.

He cannot go a single, solitary day without pi**ing me off. Everything this guy says just rankles me. He makes me wince. I gnash my teeth. I mutter something at the TV screen that usually contains a four-letter word or an epithet of some sort.

How can this guy do this to me? A friend of mine unloaded on me recently with the same tirade. He said Trump “has to go.” My friend, Chris, said that everything about Trump reminds him of how unfit he is to be president of the United States.

Then he said, “You know me. I like everyone!”

Well, there you go. It’s come down to that. Donald Trump has pi**ed off even those proclaim their affection for all of humanity.

I stand with Chris.

In actuality, I have felt that way since the moment I watched Trump declare his presidential candidacy. My goodness, he has angered me damn near daily since the moment he became a politician. Yes, I know … he says he isn’t a pol, but he is, by definition. His followers say he isn’t. They’re as ignorant as he is on that and a number of other matters.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t dishonor those who support this guy. I simply am confused, bamboozled if you will, about how they can back a liar, a philanderer, a cheat, a fraud, a guy who lacks any sort of moral bearing.

That’s their problem. It certainly isn’t mine. My particular problem at the moment is dealing with my anger at Donald Trump.