Brandi Shinholster

Mom, artist, photographer, TN patriot, beginning homesteader, 1A,2A, pro-life…

[Brandi Shinholster @BrandiShin7]

@ThrillaRilla369 Yes! Stopped working 5 years ago. Best thing I ever did.

[Matt Van Swol @mattvanswol]

🚨WOW!!!

Tim Sparks has confirmed he purchased 80 PIZZA HUTS and brought back EVERYTHING that made them iconic!

Pac-Man is back.
Salad bar is back.
Red cups are back.
Booths for families.

"I want to rebuild places for families to connect and put their phones down..."

[Brandi Shinholster @BrandiShin7]

@Ony1nyechi Will You Be There, They Don’t Care About Us, Man In The Mirror. It’s so hard to pick just 3.

[elENoCHle @NewsBlast17]

The Bees Were Told Today And It Wasn’t Just a Photo Op.

During King Charles III’s White House visit, President Trump walked the royal couple straight to the newly expanded beehives on the South Lawn.

Melania had just unveiled a hive shaped like the White House itself.

Then a live bee landed calmly on Trump’s open palm while the King and Queen watched in surprise.

This wasn’t random.

In ancient British and Scottish tradition, especially among royal and rural families, you must formally “tell the bees” of any major change in the household: a death, a marriage, a new master of the house.

Fail to do so and the hive may abandon you.

When Queen Elizabeth II passed in 2022, the royal beekeeper performed the ritual at Buckingham Palace and Clarence House: “The Queen is dead. Long live the King.”

Today Trump, a distant Scottish Stuart cousin of the royals, publicly showed the thriving American hives to the King.

In the esoteric reading, this was a modern “telling of the bees” for the post-Elizabeth era: a symbolic handover and alignment of the two “hives” (the nations/societies themselves) under new stewardship.

This was a very public demonstration: Trump standing tall as the one in charge, and the King quietly capitulating on American soil.

The bees, and the world, just witnessed who holds the hive now.

[Brandi Shinholster @BrandiShin7]

@tajjackson3 My family is going to see it for my birthday. My kids are so excited. They love Micheal. Especially my youngest. ❤️❤️❤️

[Sassafrass84 @Sassafrass_84]

Based!!!

Love this so much.

[Nick Adams @NickAdamsinUSA]

Kid Rock won.

The NFL Lost.

This is not up for debate.

[Hi-Rez The Rapper @HiRezTheRapper]

Someone tell @KidRock i'll perform at rock the country festival for free in place of these bands that backed out. I'm a God fearing unapologetic conservative who raps about God, Freedom, Fatherhood, Sobriety, and Faith.

[Matt Van Swol @mattvanswol]

I have truly horrific news...

An illegal alien driving a semi-truck has just crashed head-on into a van of Amish men, k*lling 4 of them.

It appears the trucking company that employed the illegal is based out of California and is known as a "chameleon carrier"...

...which are trucking companies that re-register under new names to evade safety violations.

The Amish men who lost their lives to this illegal alien are:

Henry Eicher, 50.

His sons: Menno Eicher, 25, and Paul Eicher, 19.

and Simon Girod, 23.

There will be no protests for them.
Their story won't be in the mainstream news.

Please pray for their families.

[Bruce Snyder @realBruceSnyder]

Jelly Roll stepped onto the Grammy stage and did something you almost never see anymore.

He didn’t play it safe.
He pulled out a Bible.

He openly thanked God for rescuing him from a dark, broken chapter of his life, and he did it in front of an industry that usually avoids faith at all costs.

[Lu for Alaska @luinalaska]

Our nation’s nurses need a staff meeting come to Jesus. I found an old pantsuit for this. Please take a seat.

[Chad Prather @WatchChad]

Another example of the "TOLERANT" left, in FULL effect.

[MJTruthUltra @MJTruthUltra]

Fox News has a very good problem, and his name is Greg Gutfeld.

“We had countless deaths (by illegal aliens) and you didn’t say SH*T!”

He is quickly becoming the absolute best on Fox.

https://t.co/t9594Yvy1V

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"Someone kept calling the radio station requesting the same song. For 114 days straight.
I'm a DJ at K-Rock 98.3. Overnight shift. Midnight to 6 a.m. Mostly lonely truckers and insomniacs listening.
Around 1:15 a.m. every single night, same number calls. Same request, "November Rain" by Guns N' Roses. Eight-minute guitar solo version.

First week, I played it. Thought maybe someone really loved that song.
Second week, I started screening the calls. "We just played that yesterday, how about something else?"
"November Rain, please."
"We have a no-repeat policy"
Click. They'd hang up.

But they'd call back the next night. 1:15 a.m. exactly. "November Rain."
This went on for months. My coworkers thought it was hilarious. Started a betting pool on when the caller would give up.
They never did.

Day 47, "Look, buddy, what's the deal with this song?"
Long silence. Then, "Just play it. Please."
The voice sounded older. Male. Tired.
I played it.

Day 82, My manager told me to block the number. "It's harassment."
I didn't block it.

Day 91, I answered. Before they could speak, I said, "It's queued up. Playing at 1:30."
"Thank you," they whispered.

Day 114, The call came. But different voice. Younger. Female.
"This is about the November Rain requests," she said. "My grandfather passed away this morning. He won't be calling anymore."
My stomach dropped.
"He had dementia," she continued. "Couldn't remember much. But he remembered that song. Said it was playing when he proposed to my grandmother in 1992. At some restaurant. She died five years ago. The song was the only piece of her he could still hold onto."
She was crying. "He'd get confused at night. Agitated. The only thing that calmed him was that song. So I'd call you. Every night. He'd sit next to me, listening on the radio, and for eight minutes he'd remember her. He'd smile. Then forget again. But for those eight minutes....."
I couldn't speak.
"Thank you for playing it," she said. "Even when you were annoyed. Even when your manager wanted you to stop. Those eight minutes were everything to him."
She hung up.

I sat in that booth. Played "November Rain" at 1:15 a.m. Nobody requested it. I just played it.
Did it again the next night.
And every night since.

Some listeners complained. "Why do you keep playing the same song?"
I never explained. Just said, "Station policy."

But truckers started calling in. Said they pulled over during that 1:15 a.m. slot. Listened to the whole eight minutes. Some knew why. Most didn't.

One guy said, "I don't even like that song. But something about hearing it at 1:15 every night..... feels like church. Like we're all stopping together. For something."
They were right.

It's been six months. I still play it. Every single night. 1:15 a.m.
Some things aren't about what you like. They're about what someone needed. Once. When nothing else worked.

That song's not mine anymore. It belongs to an old man who forgot everything except how to love his wife.
And now it belongs to everyone driving lonely highways at 1:15 a.m., looking for a reason to keep going.
Eight minutes. Every night.
That's my church now."

Let this story reach more hearts....
.
Ai image is for demonstration purpose only.
.
By Mary Nelson

[Brandi Shinholster @BrandiShin7]

@DefiantLs Shhhhhhhhh. TN is closed!!! We are full!

[Paul Rees. ex Rucksack. @HannahIamthest1]

On the first day, God created the dog and said, "Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past.
For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years."
The dog said, "That's a long time to be barking.
How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?"
And God saw it was good.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said,
"Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh.
For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span."
The monkey said, "Monkey tricks for twenty years?
That's a pretty long time to perform.
How about I give you back ten like the dog did?"
And God, again, saw it was good.

On the third day, God created the cow and said,
"You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves, and give milk to support the farmer's family.
For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years."
The cow said, "That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?"
And God agreed it was good.

On the fourth day, God created humans and said,
"Eat, sleep, play, marry, and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years."
But the human said, "Only twenty years?
Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back,
the ten the monkey gave back,
and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?"
"Okay," said God, "you asked for it."

So that is why for our first twenty years, we eat, sleep, play, and enjoy ourselves.
For the next forty years, we slave in the sun to support our family.
For the next ten years, we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years, we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.
Life has now been explained to you.

There is no need to thank me for this valuable information
If you are looking for me, I will be on the front porch.

😎😎😎😎😎

[🇺🇸 Bekah 🇺🇸 @bekahj]

I’m worn out hearing people moan, “Our grandparents could buy a house on one paycheck, but now we can’t even afford rent on two!”

Yeah, maybe because Grandma wasn’t dropping half her income on $14 iced lattes and avocado toast shaped like art projects. Back then, if they wanted coffee, they boiled it at home in a dented pot. It tasted like burnt rubber and regret — but it woke you up and cleaned your pipes.

And Grandma wasn’t “out to brunch.” You think she had time for mimosas and hashtags? She was making something called whatever’s left in the fridge and feeding six people with it.

Don’t even start with Uber Eats. You think Grandpa was out here paying $38 to have a burger delivered three blocks away? Please. He grilled mystery meat on a rusted barbecue, and everyone called it dinner.

Now people cry about being broke while sitting in a house full of gadgets. Two SUVs in the driveway, six streaming services, three air fryers, and matching tattoos that cost more than their light bill. You think Grandpa had a tattoo? He did. It said “Korea, 1951,” and it came with trauma, not Instagram likes.

And the kids—Lord help us. “We can’t make ends meet, but Brayden needs the new iPhone!” No, he doesn’t. You’re handing an $1100 device to a child who still eats crayons and forgets to flush.

When we were kids, there was one phone. It hung on the wall like a family relic. The cord stretched just far enough for you to whisper secrets before someone yelled, “Get off, I need to make a call!” And guess what? We lived.

The TV? One. In the living room. With three channels and a dial that clicked like a safe. And if Dad wanted to watch bowling, you were a fan of bowling, end of story.

Now there’s a flat screen in every room, the baby’s got an iPad, the dog’s got a camera, and everyone’s wondering why they can’t afford rent.
Because you’re living like rock stars on retail salaries, that’s why.

Grandpa wasn’t leasing Teslas or buying $12 smoothies called “Green Zen Awakening.” He drove a truck that coughed smoke, rattled like a storm, and smelled like oil and hard work.

They lived within their means. Whatever Grandpa brought home on Friday — that’s what they had. They weren’t keeping up with the Joneses; they were keeping the lights on.

So yeah, Grandpa bought a house on one salary. But he also didn’t have a gym membership, three delivery apps, and emotional support crystals on his nightstand. His only support system was Grandma, who told him to quit whining and mow the yard.

Nowadays, everyone’s broke, anxious, and “manifesting abundance” while ordering tacos on DoorDash for the fourth time this week.

It’s not the economy — it’s the lifestyle.

Wake up, turn off your subscriptions, make your own coffee, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll smell the truth.

Credit to original author, unknown

[Elon Musk @elonmusk]

This is actually happening!!

[Brandi Shinholster @BrandiShin7]

@MrPitbull07 My now husband of 14 years is allergic to cats. I had 3 cats when we met and the all 3 died of old age in our house. He never once asked me to get rid of them. We learned how to manage his allergy so I could keep my babies.

Keep your dogs.