@KelloggsUKI Been eating Rice Krispies for breakfast all my life. Sitting here with my first (and last bowl) of the new cereal you have put in Rice Krispies boxes. Whatever testing suggested this powdery tasting gunk would pass was completely wrong.
All the best people declare war on Hogwarts. Have you ever considered dividing your gender identity into separate pieces and storing it in hidden objects, so you can’t be invalidated to death?
A squirrel in Stirling found a Tunnock's Caramel Wafer on the wet pavement and sat down to eat it like it was his.
He looks like he'll survive the winter nicely,
[📸: Jared Bowe (via IG)]
Kudos for Robbie Williams for this.
He has defended Olivia Rodrigo amid claims that her new festive song Take Me Home (4 Christmas) sounds similar to his 2012 hit Candy.
Classy response.
Dikidikini village in Eastern Cape, South Africa, doesn't have a bridge, so people cross the river inside a blue plastic drum!!
This is so fkd up
Writer: Ian
SNL took something as ordinary as making plans with family and turned it into a horror movie.
The sketch is called Plans, starring Sabrina Carpenter and Ben Marshall.
The terrifying part? Nothing supernatural happens. They simply remember a commitment they wish they had never made.
And that is the joke.
The sketch aired on October 18, 2025, during Sabrina Carpenter’s first episode as host and musical guest of SNL Season 51.
Carpenter and Marshall play a couple enjoying a quiet weekend when they realize they have plans with her cousin and the cousin’s husband.
Their reaction makes an ordinary social visit feel like a disaster.
I dare you to watch this without laughing. 😂
This was music class for a group of 3-year-olds in Levittown, New York. The song had a little surprise, and this little boy thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He laughed so hard he could barely sit up, and within seconds, his classmates joined in.
That’s the thing about joy. It spreads. You can’t help it.
Kids learn so much through music, but I think this little guy might have taught all of us something today: never hold back a good laugh.
For more feel-good stories like this, follow me and comment “NEWSLETTER,” and I’ll send you the sign-up.
🎥: Sara Shonfeld, Musical Minds via ViralHog
#DoGoodCrew #GoodNews #FeelGood #Laughter #MusicClass #KidsBeingKids
The amazing Typewriter Concerto...
For anyone who needs a smile today...
This is Leroy Anderson's 'The Typewriter' for orchestra, complete with all the familiar 'dings' and clitter-clattering of a typewriter. The soloist here is Alfredo Anaya, with conductor Miguel Roa
Now this is a fun way to end the night. Erhan Shukri does a magnificent job fusing the 1970’s hit Rasputin by Boney with classical musicians. Turn up the volume for this one!
My dad’s storyboards for The Trap Door were wildly detailed for some reason. And then he just tossed them once finished.
This one was preserved and recently posted by Steve Cox who was making merchandise for the show (Not to be confused with Steve Box who worked on the show)
What you did was show the world was a small minded bigot you are. Geography does not dictate genealogy, and legal documentation cannot overwrite ancestral lineage. A migrant may gain a passport through naturalisation, but they do not inherit the indigenous history of that land simply by crossing its borders. Across the globe, true heritage is an unbroken chain of descent: we remain who we are regardless of where we unpack our bags. It is only by marrying into an indigenous population that a new lineage safely anchors itself, granting the next generation—our children—the biological and cultural birthright to legitimately claim 50/50 dual inheritance in both worlds. - My view and opinion, but it is followed around much of the world.
@PaulinusOfTrier@Michael41739926 That was my exact experience. Thrown in the water by an instructor at the local pool scared me off swimming for years. I finally learned to swim on holiday in Majorca with my lovely older sister helping me.
As you are all aware, I preside over something of a domestic menagerie, seven children to be precise, which is less a household and more an ongoing sociological experiment. Today, I found myself engaged in a heated altercation with my eldest son, whom I was vigorously and, I felt, quite magnificently scalding for some misdemeanour whose particulars have since vanished into the fog of senility.
I am a proud man of 5’11¾”. My son is 6’4”.
At the conclusion of my undoubtedly erudite reprimand, this bumbling behemoth had the unmitigated temerity to pat me on the head.
PAT. ME. ON. THE. HEAD.
I cannot adequately convey the depth of my present indignation. I have not been this affronted since someone suggested I might benefit from a sensible haircut.
There will be consequences. I have not yet determined their nature, but I can assure you they shall be magnificently disproportionate. The family council will be convened, ancestral grievances will be unearthed, the hereditary peerage may be consulted, and somewhere in this house a perfectly innocent vase is about to become collateral damage. I may be only 5’11¾”, but I remain the head of this household, and I shall not be reduced to the status of a patted minor noble by a six-foot-four usurper who still requires my Wi-Fi password. 🎩