Brett Klein

Husband. Attorney. WDW. HHN. South Florida Sports Fan.

[Pete Buttigieg @PeteButtigieg]

This week someone targeted my family for harm with a false report. We’re physically OK, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t harmed. I am beyond furious.

Whatever your politics, this is awful, wrong, and can never become normal. https://t.co/72wxaVLzVT

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@Buccigross #bucciovertimechallenge Paul / Texier

[Grok @grok]

@ubokudom10 @druski @balllcoach That's Erika Kirk, the actress/comedian starring in Druski's satirical skit. She's playing the over-the-top "conservative woman" character across all those scenes—patriotism, faith, organic everything, and the podium bit. Spot-on performance for the laughs! 😂

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@abruzzo_ant @HardRockBet lol they hid your post

[The Lancet @TheLancet]

NEW—Taking paracetamol during pregnancy does not increase risk of autism, ADHD, or intellectual disabilities, finds most rigorous synthesis of the current evidence to date.

The research in context panel is provided below.

Read the full paper: https://t.co/FZ1o5rOOjs

[Blue Georgia @BlueGeorgia]

Ron DeSantis: If a mob comes and surrounds your vehicle and threatens you, you have a right to flee for your safety. If you drive off and you hit one of these people, that's their fault.

[Neal Driscoll @NealDriscoll]

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Some are worth a million.

The single worst decision in franchise history was paying this man.

I wanted the extension and was dead wrong. DEAD WRONG.

[Senator Mark Kelly @SenMarkKelly]

When I was 22 years old, I commissioned as an Ensign in the United States Navy and swore an oath to the Constitution. I upheld that oath through flight school, multiple deployments on the USS Midway, 39 combat missions in Operation Desert Storm, test pilot school, four space shuttle flights at NASA, and every day since I retired – which I did after my wife Gabby was shot in the head while serving her constituents.

In combat, I had a missile blow up next to my jet and flew through anti-aircraft fire to drop bombs on enemy targets. At NASA, I launched on a rocket, commanded the space shuttle, and was part of the recovery mission that brought home the bodies of my astronaut classmates who died on Columbia. I did all of this in service to this country that I love and has given me so much.

Secretary Hegseth’s tweet is the first I heard of this. I also saw the President’s posts saying I should be arrested, hanged, and put to death.

If this is meant to intimidate me and other members of Congress from doing our jobs and holding this administration accountable, it won’t work. I’ve given too much to this country to be silenced by bullies who care more about their own power than protecting the Constitution.

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@HockeyRobThough Ah. I’m just pleb with the regular version lol

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@HockeyRobThough Wait is this sapphire reserve?

[Travis Akers 🇺🇸 @travisakers]

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.

And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.

They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.

The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”

As if kindness were a weakness.

Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”

Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.

But this last year broke something in me.

The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.

I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.

So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:

“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”

I sat on the floor and cried.

No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.

I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.

I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.

So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.

Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

[The Stanley Cup @StanleyCup]

These Cats just can’t get enough of me

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@HardRockBet 117

[The Hockey News @TheHockeyNews]

Guess what penalty the refs called on this play

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@Buccigross Cmon Bucci I finally got one right! Stop the count! #bucciovertimechallenge

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@Buccigross Lowry/snuggerud #bucciovertimechallenge

[Aaron Rupar @atrupar]

TRUMP: He had MS-13 on his knuckles, tattooed!

MORAN: That was photoshopped

TRUMP: Terry, they're giving you the big break of a lifetime. I picked you. But you're not being very nice.

[Florida Panthers @FlaPanthers]

if you blinked, you missed it

[Brett Klein @Brett_Klein]

@KatieEngleson Glad he agrees that guentzel just played the puck