CP

Wanna be like Gucci? Little buddy eat your vegetables.

[not emma @buttholefactory]

Had a lady order an espresso martini and followed it with a spicy margarita. Ok Mrs Fart.

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

I have Bieber Fever again

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

A 5th grade student to me today —
“Ms. Parry your outfit today is giving counselor who will clock your tea but in the nicest way possible” 💀

[Kelly @broadwaybabyto]

Children die in school shootings and it’s “not the guns”.

Mass shootings claim lives multiple times a year and it’s “not the guns”.

Kyle Rittenhouse shot 3 people during a protest and it’s “not the guns”

ICE kills Alex Pretti, and suddenly it’s his fault because he “had a gun”

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

Nothing ruins a crush like flip flops

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

My 2025 but instead of angel, a demon 👹

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

Honestly let’s skip the small talk and just watch Jonathan Bailey in Dancing Through Life together

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

The dating scene is so bleak I’m accepting dates with blonde men

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

The Canton Crossing parking lot is RAGE BAIT

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

Guess every slenderman look alike woke up today and chose to like me on hinge

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

I hope you’re miserable until you’re dead

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

If I didn’t have therapy I’d be in jail probs

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

Ew dating is a sport

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

Normalize Venmo requesting men who act like the scum of the earth 🤑

[Rep. Yvette D. Clarke @RepYvetteClarke]

“Monkeys”
“Watermelon people”
“1488”

But when we say white supremacy is thriving on the right, they call us reactionary…

Give me a break.

The future of the Republican Party proudly embraces bigotry that belongs in the past, and every American needs to recognize how dangerous that is.

[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.

[P.E. Moskowitz @_pem_pem]

all other problems are this problem. all other discourse is a distraction from this

[CP @_SweetCarolineP]

Dudes love to say they hate Halloween but then wear this with a jersey and matching hat for NFL Sunday at the bar

[GL @gldivittorio]

Kind of more striking who didn't speak at Charlie Kirk's funeral—neither of his parents, no siblings, no old friends, just his wife, Carlson, and a whole lineup of Trump people he maybe knew getting in their agenda talking points. He really was worth more to MAGA dead than alive