@LanceS541925@BlackApple@JFK_PascalNaja7 It’s a Boeing 767, Not a Cesna 172! Those airliners are built pretty damn sturdy. The one that struck the south tower was moving at over 550mph. Do you have any idea the kinetic energy that thing packed? It would sheer those steel beams like a knife through butter.
Four step solution to the pit bull problem:
1) Ban the breeding, sale, or adoption of pit bulls
2) Kill all pit bulls currently in shelters
3) Mandate immediate euthanizing of any privately owned pit bull who attacks or attempts to attack a person
4) Charge the owners of pit bulls who attack humans with assault with a deadly weapon
As a lesbian and a mother of daughters, fuck you, Jezebel.
You just called Sophie Cunningham the “WNBA’s biggest loser” for saying the quiet part out loud:
Biological men don’t belong in women’s sports or women’s locker rooms.
They belong in an Insane Asylum.
That’s not hate, that’s basic fucking reality and the bare minimum of protecting girls. I’m a lesbian. I don’t want dick in my spaces.
I don’t want mentally ill males who identify as women, dressing up in grandmas clothes and toilet paper tits, dominating the sports my daughters play, the scholarships they fight for or the locker rooms where they should feel safe.
Sophie’s not the grifter here. You are, motherfucker. You’re the ones selling out actual women, young girls and lesbians so you can cosplay as the most progressive assholes on the internet.
Calling a woman a “MAGA Barbie” and a “loser” for defending sex based categories is peak misogyny.
You’re not progressive. You’re anti-woman. You’re anti-lesbian. And you’re full of shit.
Sophie Cunningham is doing more for girls and for women like me than your entire miserable little website ever has.
Keep seething. We’re not backing down.
Protect women’s sports. Protect girls. Protect lesbians, too!
Full stop.
#WomenDontHavePenises 👌
Austin Metcalf is dead.
Let’s stop dancing around the obvious.
Austin Metcalf received the death penalty.
Karmelo Anthony received 35 years.
One of them lives.
One of them gets a gravestone.
Save the faux outrage.
The real victim in this case is NOT the convicted killer.
The real victim is the young man who will never come home again and the family that will spend the rest of their lives grieving a loss that can never be undone.
This was a track meet.
A place for competition, teamwork, and sportsmanship.
NOT violence.
NOT murder.
And spare us the racial narratives.
Murder is wrong regardless of the race of the victim or the perpetrator. Any decent society should be able to agree on that.
Austin Metcalf lost everything.
His family got a life sentence of grief.
And while some are busy turning this tragedy into a racial debate, the Metcalf family is looking at the empty chair at the dinner table and remembering who actually paid the highest price.
Austin Metcalf got the death penalty.
Never forget that.
Wow. I thought that it was wrong for him to stab a kid to death but now that I see these videos of Karmelo smiling and stuff I’ve realized that actually he should have been allowed to murder whoever he wanted. I apologize for my error.
Private Carlton Barrett was possibly the smallest man in his regiment.
5 feet 4 inches tall. 125 pounds.
On the morning of June 6, 1944, he landed at Omaha Beach in neck-deep water, machine gun fire cutting the surface all around him. He made it to shore.
Then he turned around and went back in.
A soldier was drowning. Barrett pulled him out. Then another. Then another. For hours, under constant fire, this 125-pound man waded back into the surf again and again, pulling drowning men to safety and physically carrying the wounded to evacuation boats offshore.
But he didn't stop there.
He ran dispatches the full length of the fire-swept beach. He found soldiers paralyzed by shock and calmed them back into action. He appeared wherever the crisis was worst, doing whatever needed doing, treating rank and personal safety as irrelevant details.
He did this for hours without stopping.
His Medal of Honor citation says his courage had "an inestimable effect on his comrades." That is military understatement for: this small, anonymous man held that section of beach together through sheer force of will.
He survived the war.
His comrades later said his life darkened after he came home. He lived quietly and died in 1986 in California, largely unknown outside of military history circles.
5 feet 4 inches. 125 pounds. He went back in.
Remember him.
🇺🇸 Most Badass Americans You Don’t Know D-Day Edition: John J. Pinder Jr.
Technician Fifth Grade John J. Pinder Jr. landed on Omaha beach on his birthday. He didn’t make it off.
Born June 6, 1912, in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania, Joe Pinder was the oldest of three children. His father worked in the steel industry.
He graduated as valedictorian of Butler High School in 1931.
Pinder spent the next several years as a right-handed pitcher in the minor leagues.
He played six seasons in the farm systems of the Cleveland Indians, New York Yankees, Washington Senators, and Brooklyn Dodgers.
In 1941 he won 17 games and was still chasing a shot at the major leagues when the war came.
He entered the Army in January 1942 after Pearl Harbor.
Assigned as a radio operator with the 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, he fought in North Africa and Sicily.
In Sicily he earned a Bronze Star for staying at an observation post under fire.
On June 6, 1944, Pinder landed with the first waves on Omaha Beach on his birthday.
Communications were shattered. His job was to get a working radio ashore.
He made it off the landing craft. They were 100 yards off the beach.
Then he was hit. A round tore into his face after only a few steps off the boat.
Pinder held the torn flesh of his face together with one hand, carried the radio with the other, and delivered the radio to his unit, while wading thru waste deep water.
That should have been enough. It wasn’t.
Weakened and bleeding, he turned around and went back into the surf and fire three more times to salvage communication equipment.
He even recovered another workable radio.
On the third trip machine gun fire hit him again, this time in the legs.
Still he kept going.
Weakening but exposed on the beach, he helped get the radios working so the men around him could call for support.
While doing so, he was hit for the third time and killed.
Medal of Honor. Posthumous.
It was presented to his father on January 26, 1945.
Pinder was initially buried in Normandy.
In 1947 his family brought him home to Grandview Cemetery in Burgettstown, Pennsylvania.
He was the only professional baseball player awarded the Medal of Honor in World War II.
John Pinder is an American Badass
Thank you, John! 🫡🇺🇸