@PolymarketHoops Not too difficult. Stop low ballin Klay. Elite two way player for like 8 years. Top 3-4 greatest shooter of all time. 4x champ. Etc etc.
Klay
Kyrie
Dame
PG
This #Wimbledon Womens final just got reallll interesting.
Muchova out there battling! She just keeps grinding it out. 🙌
Survived 5 championship points so far. 😳
What’s in Chris Gotterup’s winning bag? 👀
To celebrate his John Deere Classic victory, we’re giving away:
🏌️♂️A set of Bridgestone 220 MB Irons
⚪️A year’s supply of TOUR B X MindSet golf balls
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So my dad has been ending every phone call with "stay dangerous" instead of "goodbye" for like six months now. We all thought he was just being a weird dad. Turns out he's been mishearing the ending of a podcast he listens to. The host says "stay curious" but my dad is slightly deaf in one ear. He's been going around telling his coworkers, my grandmother, and apparently his DOCTOR to "stay dangerous" this entire time. My mom only found out because his doctor called to check if everything was okay at home. My dad has now decided he likes his version better and refuses to stop. Yesterday he told a nun to stay dangerous.
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.