Don’t smirk. Don’t wear red hats. Don’t let black conservatives have a voice. Don’t give a baby right to life. Don’t stand for the flag. Don’t use straws. Don’t drink 20oz sodas. Don’t like guns. Don’t drive SUVs. Don’t use the word “welfare”. Don’t use the word “illegal”.
Sick.
I might start tweeting like Magic Johnson.
We're open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. That's the most hours in a day and most days in a week that we can be open.
I honestly don’t care if I get fired, I was apart of the Terry Rozier and Chauncey Billups gambling scandal.
My name is Nico Harrison and I work for the Dallas Mavericks.
I am 41, and the doctor thinks I have a brain tumor. I’ve been passing out a lot lately. Monstrous headaches. My vision is unpredictably bad. I’m not hungry—and I’m always, always hungry. Tingly fingers. The works. And of course I’ve been ignoring these symptoms for months. Or is it years? “That must be a good sign,” I tell him. “Surely I’d be dead by now.” He just looks at me.
I’ve had an MRI and there’s a dark spot, black as sin, but the technician wasn’t absolutely sure, and my doctor isn’t an oncologist, although his wife is. Something is in there that shouldn’t be. Something is not right. So I’m having another one and seeing a specialist in a few days. It’s not 100%. It might not be cancer.
My gut says I will be fine. He wouldn’t have spared me from AIDS just to take me out like this. Whatever it is, I suddenly regret saying, “I’m ready to be with Jesus!” so many times over the past couple of years. God is like that. One of his favorite punishments is giving you what you asked for.
The thing in my head is in the best place it could be, surgically speaking, so there’s that. And there are still a few, much less serious, things it could be, none of which will lay claim to my hair. Heavenly Father, don’t make me tour in a silk headscarf. I’ve tried it out at home in the mirror, and I don’t look tragic, or dramatic, or sympathetic. I look piratical, like a gypsy fortune teller.
People who are beastly to others for a living have no right to ask for good wishes, let alone prayer, even when they’re scared. But I am scared, so I am asking anyway. Instead of tweeting or texting me something celebratory, do me a favor, would you? Ask Our Lord to spirit this thing away, so I can get back to work, like I promised. I’ll keep you posted.
Hey @NFL — Bad Bunny purposefully insults the fan base that made you incredibly wealthy. I promise there’s a line and if you push over it, we’ll mobilize the right against you and you won’t recover for a long time. In the past we didn’t know how to do this. Now we do. @nflcommish
Mrs. Kirk: Our daughter ran into my arms, she said “where’s daddy?” I said, “Baby, Daddy loves you SO MUCH. Don’t you worry — he’s on a work trip with Jesus.”
Lock in patriots.
It is just beginning. Buckle up, ladies & gentlemen. As Erika Kirk said, these evildoers have no idea what they have unleashed. I cannot wait to witness the change that’s about to take over this country.
They're apoplectic about this speech over on Bluesky which tells me that it was exactly what was needed. They wanted her to give some wishy washy "lets all get along" and instead they were met with righteous anger and steadfast resolve.
https://t.co/NImD9XWrJZ
This is why Charlie’s murder is hitting people so hard. (I’ve heard many people say, “I’ve never felt like this when someone has died that I didn’t personally know.”)
1. The good vs evil spiritual war just undeniably spilled over into real life. This isn’t a theory; it’s high-stakes reality.
2. Charlie was killed for beliefs that every Bible-believing Christian holds. It could have been any of us.
3. Charlie was uniquely gifted and anointed. This is like losing one of the captains of your team. You knew you could win with him on the field. Now what?
4. His murder was gruesome and public. This is degrading for someone who is an image bearer of God and widely loved. Death is humiliating for humans.
5. Evildoers are delighting in evil. Progressive leftists and their demons are celebrating. This is offensive and wicked.
6. We sympathize with his family. Young kids will grow up hearing about their dad, but will not enjoy knowing him personally. This is tragically heartbreaking.
7. You feel like you knew him because you did in many ways. Many have listened to him talk for countless hours and have been impacted by his work and life. You will miss him.
8. He represents the American dream. A self-made guy built something big at a young age, with little resources…and it changed the world. That should be celebrated, not hated.
9. He was young, healthy, and strong, and his life was still cut short. This reminds us that our lives are fragile. We’re not promised tomorrow.
You are allowed to mourn Charlie’s death even if you didn't personally know him; it’s justifiable that you’d feel righteous anger. We all lost a great American patriot and a brother in Christ. This grief should be felt, and the anger should be harnessed into resolve. First we weep, then we heal, then we fight, and then we win.
Good morning.
The reason you feel Charlie’s death so deeply is because grief doesn’t measure itself by proximity. It measures itself by meaning. You didn’t have to know him personally to feel the sting of his absence, because when a voice like his goes silent, something in the atmosphere shifts.
The reason it feels heavier than so many other tragedies is because your spirit recognizes that this is not just about a man, it is about a battle. Scripture says eternity is written on our hearts, and when someone who carried truth with boldness is suddenly gone, eternity aches within us. It’s like our souls know instinctively that the darkness celebrated, and that strikes us at the core.
The reason you can’t shake it is because psychologically, we don’t only attach ourselves to people…we attach ourselves to symbols. Charlie became a symbol of conviction in a time of compromise, courage in a time of fear. And when a symbol is struck down, it rattles something primal and eternal inside us.
That’s why even those who never met him feel it. There is a strange thread pulling at us, and it is not imagined. It is real. We are bound together by shared purpose, by shared longing for truth, by the Spirit of God Himself weaving us into a fabric that cannot be torn apart. This loss pulled at that fabric, and every one of us felt the tug.
So if you’ve wondered why this hits so hard, it’s because your soul knows. This is bigger than news. This is bigger than politics. This is about eternity, about truth, and about the weight of a man whose life carried both.
Love y’all.