Thune is again using pro-forma sessions to make pretend the Senate is still in session, to block Trumps recess appts
Join me in calling on Trump to use the power vested in him, under (Art- II- Sec,3) to call the Senate back into session... until they Pass the Save America Act
🚨 HOLY CRAP! Rep. Byron Donalds just walked out and PUMMELED the Senate over the SAVE America Act
"THE SENATE SUCKS."
"It's LAZINESS. It's disgusting."
"SENATE REPUBLICANS don't wanna do the right thing and debate the matter on the floor because it would take them away from their precious meetings. I'M SORRY. They have a responsibility to open up the floor and debate this issue in front of the American people!"
"I'm just gonna come out and say it. They suck. 80% of the American people want the SAVE America Act to pass."
"THE ONLY ORGANIZATION THAT REFUSES TO ACT IS THE US SENATE."
"Everybody else says this is common sense! Make sure only Americans are voting! Makes sense, right?!"
🔥🔥🔥
@Keir_Starmer So you don’t care about them getting raped or imprisoned if they protect themselves from being raped, but you do care if they get on social media and learn about what a disaster you are? Got it.
@RoKhanna Take your commie, crappy healthcare and your public indoctrination centers that you call education and shove them. The government is incapable of quality but great at fraud. Sit down.
@GavinNewsom Oh please you pretentious prick. We all remember where you were dining and where your kids were attending school after you locked everyone else down during Covid. Please just STFU and go away already.
@LoveWaveTrauma@dom_lucre After trial, a large, angry mob of black people followed the family to their car, screaming how glad they are that his son his dead, how the other one needs to die, etc., so if he’s suddenly become racist, there’s a big fucking reason. The family keeps receiving threats too.
🚨 I’m a Black man, a proud conservative, and a follower of Jesus Christ.
When I see protesters outside the Collin County Courthouse chanting “FUCK WHITE LIVES!” after Karmelo Anthony’s sentencing for murdering Austin Metcalf, my soul grieves.
This isn’t justice. This isn’t “community.” This is demonic hatred — plain and simple. All lives are made in the image of God. Every single one. Black, White, Brown — doesn’t matter.
Celebrating the loss of any innocent life, or cheering on evil because of skin color, is straight from the pit of hell.
And here’s the truth they don’t want you to say out loud: When Black conservatives, Christians, or truth-tellers like me call this out, we get labeled “traitors,” “Uncle Toms,” or “betrayers of the community.”
Let them talk.
I’d rather be disliked by some in my own community than stand before a Holy God and be found guilty of excusing evil, hating my neighbor, or twisting justice for racial points.
My allegiance is to Christ first — not color, not tribe, not political pressure.
“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil…” (Isaiah 5:20)
I choose truth over tribe. Light over darkness. God over man.
Who else is tired of the hate? Drop a 🙏 if you stand for real justice — not skin color.
#AllLivesMatterToGod #FaithOverFear #TruthOverTribe
To you, it's just a Cracker Barrel parking lot. To me, it's where I gave my life to Jesus Christ.
I was 21 years old. I was working at the Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee after some of the worst years of my life. I'd made mistakes. Real ones.
I grew up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, raised by a mom who worked hard and didn't accept excuses. But I made decisions that should have ended my story before it ever really started. By the grace of God, they didn't. But every day, I was carrying them.
One afternoon, a church group came into the restaurant, just back from a revival. I served them their meals like I served any other table. But something happened while I was serving them. I can't fully explain it to you. The Lord spoke to me. He said, “Stop running from Me.”
It knocked me back.
I went to find the table, and they were all gone. I could see through their windows that they were getting on their bus, and I knew deep down that if I let them drive away, I was going to keep running. So I went outside. The last woman, just as she was stepping onto the bus, turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?”
I told her, “No ma’am, I’m not okay.” I told her the Lord was telling me to stop running.
That whole bus emptied out, stood with me in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee, Florida, and prayed over me right there.
I gave my life to Christ that day. Right there.
I still get emotional about it. Because I know what I was before that moment, and I know what He's done since. He gave me a wife who shares my faith. He gave me three sons. He gave me a career, a community, a calling I never would have dared to ask for. He took a kid from Crown Heights who’d run out of chances and gave him a life that doesn't make sense apart from grace.
People ask me sometimes why I talk about it. Why I bring up the parking lot. Why I don't just keep that part private and let folks see the polished version.
I'll tell you why.
Because there's a young man out there right now — maybe in Tallahassee, maybe in Tampa, maybe in Miami, maybe in a small town in the Panhandle — who thinks his story is already over. Who thinks the mistakes he's made disqualify him from the life he could have had. Who thinks God doesn't want anything to do with somebody like him.
I'm here to tell him: that's a lie.
In life, you're not who you are at the lowest point. You're who you choose to become after.
The Lord met me in a Cracker Barrel parking lot. He'll meet you wherever you are.
You just have to stop running.