70 years of marriage for my parents. Eleven children, 68 grandchildren, 109 great grandchildren with 11 on the way. One of the grandsons is a priest and celebrated a Mass for them while other grandsons served. A schola by great granchildren. We filled the church. Blessed!!!
Don't be like John.
John lives in California. He was sick of everything-Covid-19 updates, global warming, Iran, ICE, racial tensions and everything else MSM was pushing.
John drove his car into his garage, sealed every window and door, then got back in the car.
He started it, wound down all the car windows and turned on the radio.
Two days later, a concerned neighbor looked through the garage window and saw John slumped in the car. He called 911. The broke into the garage and pulled John from the car.
They poured a sip of water into his mouth and just like that, John opened his eyes. He was fine.
Unfortunately, the Tesla battery was stone-cold dead.
John will be voting democrat in the upcoming election.
Don't be like John😂
The organizer of the Muslim-only waterpark event agreed to do an interview with me.
After it ended, she sent us a homemade cease-and-desist letter.
She did not want this to go to air. You’ll understand why when you watch. 👇🏼
I want to tell you the story of a young woman who you have probably never heard of. Her name is Mary Anne. She was born on a remote island in Scotland, where life was harsh and unforgiving.
On May 2, 1930, when she was 18 years old, she got on a boat headed for Ellis Island to start a new life. She arrived here 11 days later.
She wasn't chasing fame, riches, or power. She came for the unique opportunity that America offered. Her sister was already here and had found a job as a maid. So, Mary Anne MacLeod joined her, listing her occupation as “domestic” on her Ellis Island immigration papers.
She came to America knowing that she would clean the houses and toilets of the wealthy families in New York. She and her sister lived and worked hard through the worst days of the Depression. And she persevered.
Six years later, she married a man named Fred. He was the son of German immigrants. Then In 1942, she became a citizen.
Mary and Fred would end up having five children: two daughters and three sons.
One of those sons, they named Donald.
A woman who came here as a maid, the lowest of jobs, would raise a son who would change the very skyline that greeted his mother when she arrived at Ellis Island.
After that, he would become the 45th and 47th President of the United States.
There is no other country in the world where a woman can arrive with nothing, and in ONE generation, her son would lead the entire world.
For America’s 250th anniversary, I wanted to present President Trump with this painting I did, and then I ran out of time and talent. So, I asked a good friend of mine, Mike Malm, to help me finish it. This is how I envisioned her coming into the United States.
Mary Anne MacLeod Trump should be a household name. Her story is everything that is great about America.
One December day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She was a sorry sight.
Starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny, and hair all matted down..
We felt sorry for her so we put her in a carrier and took her to the vet.
We didn't know what to call her so we named her 'Pussycat.'
The vet decided to keep her for a day or so
He said he would let us know when we could come and get her.
My husband (the complainer) said, 'OK, but don't forget to wash her, she stinks.'
He reminded the vet that it was his WIFE (me) that wanted the dirty cat, not him.
My husband and my Vet don't see eye to eye.
The vet calls my husband 'El-Cheap-O', and my husband calls the vet 'El-Charge-O'.
They love to hate each other and constantly 'snipe' at one another,
With my husband getting in the last word on this particular occasion..
The next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor,
Who is located in the same building, next door to the vet.
The GP's waiting room and office was full of people waiting to see the doctor.
A side door opened and the vet leaned in - he had obviously seen my husband arrive.
He looked straight at my husband and in a loud voice said, 'Your wife's pussy doesn't stink any more.
We washed and shaved it, and now she smells like a rose! Oh, and, by the way, she's pregnant and God
only knows who the father is! Then he closed the door. The silence was deafening.
Now THAT, my friends, is getting even!.
ENOUGH of the Roman deception!
The Catholic Church is NOT the “first Church,” the “mother Church,” or the rock Christ built upon. That’s a man-made lie used to prop up a Pope no apostle ever knew.
Look at the text they twist: “Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.’
Jesus replied, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah… And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.’” (Matthew 16:16-18)“On this rock” does NOT mean Peter himself.
Peter (Petros) = a small stone.
The Rock (Petra) = the massive bedrock of Peter’s confession: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
The Church is built on faith in Jesus Christ, not on a man, not on “apostolic succession,” not on Rome. The true Church exploded at Pentecost when thousands confessed Christ as Lord (Acts 2). Jerusalem, not Rome, was the center.
The apostles were a team under the Headship of Christ alone. No Pope in the New Testament.
No “mother church” in the New Testament.
Only one foundation: “For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11).
Wake up. Be convicted. Be inspired.
Ditch the traditions that exalt a man over the Messiah.
Stand on the unchanging Word and the unshakable Rock, Jesus Christ alone.
The gates of hell will not prevail against the Church built on faith in Him.
This is Melty. He’s 17 years old After a satisfying 30-minute garden stroll in his green vest, he happily climbs steps back inside all by himself. Pls heart him for his determination and little foot paddles! What a good boy. ❤️
This is the raw, unfiltered truth of what happened when one American warrior was swallowed by the Iranian night…and how the United States answered with unrelenting, calculated wrath.
Call sign: Dude 44.
An Air Force colonel, downed deep…two hundred brutal miles...inside enemy territory.
Wounded on ejection, he dragged himself up a jagged mountain ridge through pure force of will, wedged his broken body into a narrow rock fissure like a blade locking into place, and transmitted three words that sliced straight through layers of Washington skepticism:
God is good.
They doubted it. The analysts, the risk-averse bureaucrats, the ones who see traps in every shadow...they hesitated, suspecting an elaborate Iranian snare meant to bait rescue forces into slaughter. While they verified, the clock turned into a death sentence.
For forty-eight merciless hours, the regime unleashed everything it had. IRGC killers, Basij fanatics, armed civilian mobs, helicopters clawing the sky, drones hunting every thermal signature. A provincial governor dangled blood money for the American’s head.
The colonel’s WSO, still breathing and listening in the dark, heard the hunters closing...voices thick with predatory hunger, footsteps scraping across stone.
This wasn’t mere military pursuit.
It was psychological warfare on a primal level:
the Islamic Republic, bloated with revolutionary arrogance, needed to break one man to prove they could still shatter American resolve.
Their entire apparatus...ideology, militia muscle, state terror...converged on a single wounded pilot. They craved the trophy. They underestimated the predator they were stalking.
Because America does not leave her sons to the wolves.
The response was a masterclass in lethal precision and overwhelming force.
More than a hundred elite special operators slipped across the border under cover of darkness.
Four B-1 bombers roared in and delivered nearly a hundred 2,000-pound warheads that rewrote the terrain in fire and cratered any organized pursuit.
MQ-9 Reapers circled like patient death, surgically eliminating fighters who dared approach within striking distance of the colonel’s hide.
A CIA deception cell pumped poisoned intelligence into Iranian channels...claiming the pilot had already been snatched and was being exfiltrated overland...designed to fracture their command, sow paranoia, and buy the precious window needed.
The first extraction attempt extracted its own price in blood. Two MC-130Js managed to touch down on a hastily prepared strip inside Iran only to sink helplessly into soft sand...trapping 200 million dollars in American aircraft and turning them into sudden, tempting targets.
No panic. No negotiation with failure.
Commanders adapted. Three smaller replacement aircraft were vectored in immediately. Every operator and airman was pulled out.
Then, in a final act of defiance, the trapped birds were deliberately destroyed on the ground...reduced to twisted, burning wreckage so the enemy inherited nothing but ash and humiliation.
All of it executed with the ferocious elegance that defines the American fighting spirit: not reckless, but absolute. Rooted in a warrior philosophy that treats every pledged life as non-negotiable.
When Secretary Hegseth delivered positive identification to the President, the order returned sharp and unyielding, stripped of hesitation:
We have to get him.
That single sentence carries centuries of American resolve...the refusal to let empire erode into caution, the understanding that national character is forged in moments when lesser powers would fold.
Dude 44 is home.
The regime is left choking on smoke, craters, and the humiliating realization that their grand hunt collapsed against one man who refused to yield and a nation that still possesses the will...and the lethal capability...to reach into the devil’s own backyard and drag its own back alive.
America still honors its blood debts with thunder.
💀🗡️🇺🇸🦅
Too many young people are resenting Boomers, claiming that Boomers had it " easy " financially in their youth. Here are a few fun facts about growing up Boomer.
1. Almost everyone grew up with one bathroom. Mom, Dad and all 3-6 siblings.
2. If you did get to take a vacation, you drove. With no air conditioning. No cup holders. No iPads. Just black vinyl seats and bologna sandwiches.
3. There were no club sports. No Parks and Rec activities. Summer camp was for rich kids. Get yourself a bike, a stick and a few friends. If you were bored, you laid in the grass and looked at clouds.
4. You ate what was served. Even if it was chicken livers. No DoorDash, no backup Totino's rolls.
5. No AP classes, no PSEO, no "fun" elective. They assigned you to a class. You went. You did what they asked. Or else.
6. Unless you had rich parents, you had a nice VFW wedding. Maybe rent a room at a modest hotel.
7. Most Boomers got their first pedi and mani in their 50s (when their feet got farther away). We didn't even know people got massages in real life, only in Hollywood.
8. You packed your own lunch for decades.
9. No one knew what red light therapy was, a facial, a spa day, or a cold plunge. Your gym was the YMCA. Usually in a rather old building.
10. We grew up with 18 percent inflation, 14 percent mortgage rates, 3 million continuing unemployment claims, and 200 other applicants competing for the same job.
Now, this is not to say Millenials and Gen Z have it easy or don't face problems. It's just to say, nobody has it easy or doesn't face problems.
My only hope, as my mom would say, is I live long enough to see my kids' kids complain about how easy they had it!