FOSTERING THE FUTURE // End the “Orphan Tax”
We have a responsibility to put children’s needs before politics and geography.
Thirty states have now committed to ending the "orphan tax"—the practice of using foster children's Social Security survivor and disability benefits to offset the cost of their care.
Additionally, 25 states have agreed to support Fostering the Future Accounts. These accounts will help foster youth save, build financial security, and prepare for adulthood.
Every state, whether led by Republicans or Democrats, should support America’s foster children.
https://t.co/B63DWJBYj0
You only need 1 crazy guy on the bus to take over the entire bus cuz everyone's too scared to push back.
The communist only needs 3.5% of the people to riot to take over an entire country, cuz everyone is too scared to push back.
Rallying the crazy 3.5% is their WMD.
For 23 years, Jane Sayner called the same house in St Albans, Melbourne, home. She wasn't the owner. She was the tenant. Month after month, year after year, she paid her rent on time and treated the property as if it were her own.
The owners lived overseas, so Jane became the person they trusted completely. She looked after the house, handled many small repairs herself instead of bothering the landlords, and quietly cared for the property for more than two decades. Over the years, the relationship grew beyond that of landlord and tenant. It became a genuine friendship built on trust and respect.
When the owners eventually decided they no longer wanted to keep the house, they made an extraordinary decision. Rather than putting it on the market, they transferred ownership directly to Jane.
There was no legal obligation and no agreement promising her the property after a certain number of years. It was simply a remarkable gesture from owners who believed the person who had faithfully cared for their home for 23 years deserved to have it become her own
When I lived in San Jose, California, I lived in a crappy apartment complex that had a single mail room.
For junk mail for somebody who had moved, the postman would just throw it in a big pile in the middle of the room.
Including MAIL-IN BALLOTS for people who no longer lived there.
Yes I know that's illegal. But that's what happened.
@WellsJorda89710 Sanctimonious and self-inflated weenies. We do not need you to interpret or sensor what the President (or anyone else) has to say. We want to hear the whole news. Not your curated news. You're not trustworthy.
🚨China compromised the voter rolls of EIGHTEEN states
- Alaska
- Arkansas
- Colorado
- Connecticut
- District of Columbia
- Florida
- Georgia
- Iowa
- Kansas
- Maryland
- Michigan
- New York
- North Carolina
- Ohio
- Oklahoma
- Rhode Island
🚨 WATCH: Iranian-American actor Sam Asghari unleashed a stunning declaration that has the internet exploding: "The people of Iran are in love with America... The gap between Iran's regime and its people is vast. They want freedom. And I'm happy this situation is happening."
samurai is in the Waffle House bathroom crying.
Not sad tears. Happy tears. Confused-samurai tears.
I just made $10,000 this month.
TEN. THOUSAND. AMERICAN. DOLLARS.
From telling stories about being a lost ronin at Chick-fil-A.
Let me explain to my honorable followers how this happened:
⚔️ X (Twitter): $4,500
Americans paid me to write in broken English. In Japan they would say "study harder." In America they say "he's so real for this." I love this country.
📚 Kindle books: $2,200
I wrote 10 books about a samurai discovering ranch dressing. TEN books. Kind Americans keep buying them and leaving reviews like "my kids love the confused samurai." My kids love the confused samurai. I AM the confused samurai. Full circle.
☕ Buy Me a Coffee: $768
Strangers said "here samurai, real coffee, not from vending machine." I still do not trust vending machine. Vending machine ate my dollar in 2024. I have not forgotten. I will never forget.
🏯 $200/month subscription: 12 warriors × $200 = $2,400
Twelve honorable people paid $200 to learn my viral post secrets. I share EVERYTHING daily. My prompts. My thinking. My mistakes. Nothing hidden. This is samurai way.
Now the Waffle House server is knocking on the bathroom door.
"Sir? You okay in there? Been 20 minutes."
"I AM SAMURAI. I AM PROCESSING GRATITUDE."
"...okay hun, your hash browns getting cold."
America. AMERICA. This country took a wandering ronin with no plan, broken English, and a topknot, and said "yes, be yourself, we love you." You quoted me. You bookmarked me. You said "bless your heart" every single time I misused "y'all."
You are my new clan.
I will keep telling stories until my last breath. Or until Waffle House closes. Whichever comes first. (Waffle House never closes. So — until my last breath.)
☕ Support this samurai (still no vending machines):
https://t.co/HXZjkkiAtg
🏯 Read all my adventures:
https://t.co/7dYNfk6DiH
📜 My $200/mo subscription — I share EVERYTHING daily (prompts, thinking, viral post methods):
https://t.co/Dl1SyII6iF
Arigato. Domo arigato. This samurai bows so deep his topknot touches American soil.
Now — hash browns are getting cold. Sayonara for now. 🍳⚔️
In Arizona, when my daughter turned 13, we went to the bank to open a saving account for her only to find out her social security number was already attached to a bank account— one opened fraudulently by an illegal alien who stole her social security number.
Thank you @POTUS@SecScottBessent@StephenM for working to stop this.
Our six-year-old handed us a note. His teacher had called my wife and I in for an emergency meeting. We asked our son if he had any idea why
and he said, "She didn't like a drawing I did."
We went in the next day.
His teacher pulled the drawing below out and said, "I asked him to draw his familv and he drew this. Would vou mind explaining?"
"Not at all." my wife said. "Family vacation. Snorkelling off the Bahamas. 😂
🚨 HOLY SMOKES. Sec. Scott Bessent just EXPOSED Tim Walz after Fake News ABC tried goading him into attacking ICE
"I was out there two weeks ago, Governor Walz DECLINED to provide a security detail for me to go into the Minnesota Capitol with the state police! So he is FOMENTING CHAOS because there is substantial waste, fraud, and abuse!" 🔥🔥
"My job as Treasury Secretary is to investigate that. And I think that this chaos is going out there!"
"And again, I am sorry that this gentleman is dead, but he did bring a 9 millimeter semi-automatic weapon with two cartridges to what was supposed to be a peaceful protest."
"I think that there are a lot of PAID agitators who are ginning things up, and the governor has not done a good job of tamping this down!"
Nailed it.
🚨#BREAKING: A Texas man is being hailed as a hero after he SCARED AWAY AND CHASED an attempted CHILD PREDATOR kidnapper...
...WHILE TOWING PORTA POTTIES in his work truck.
His name is Cody Ratto, he saw a 15-year-old girl being beaten, he stopped, got out, helped her off the ground, and then chased the man in his work truck until he got his license plate number.
Because of what he did, 28-year-old Carlos Alonso Cuevas Ruiz is now in jail.
When asked whether he would step in again if he saw something like this happen, Ratto didn't hesitate.
"Every day," he said.
"This was a blessing from God to be in the right place," Ratto said.
WHAT A HERO!!!!!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸
BILL CLINTON & THE AF-1 FLIGHT ATTENDANT
This one truly IS “Dereliction of Duty.”
We were returning late one night from a long trip to Europe on AF-1, landed at Andrews, and helicoptered on Marine One to the White House. We landed on the South Lawn at about midnight and, after ensuring the president was on his way to his residence upstairs, I headed to my bedroom in the East Wing. Shortly thereafter, my phone rang and it was the AF-1 presidential pilot. “Buzz, we have a problem,” he said. Oh shit,” I thought.
Apparently, Clinton had cornered a female AF-1 steward in the galley and molested her. She was young, a staff sergeant, and married with children. I knew her, liked her, and she was super sweet. Now, she was in tears. I asked the pilot what she wanted. He told me that she didn’t want to be another “bimbo,” she wanted to remain in the Air Force and be promotable. All she wanted was an apology. In the world of Monica Lewinsky, Paula Jones, and Kathleen Willey, this wasn’t surprising to me. It was, however terribly disappointing and sad.
So, that morning, as a young major, I had to walk to the Oval Office and tell the commander-in-chief that he needed to apologize to the young lady. I’ve been shot at with hot metal but this was the toughest day in my life. I remember on my way to talk with him thinking “I didn’t sign up for this shit.”
Two weeks later, we got the two together onboard AF-1 in the president’s office and he offered a very uncontrite “half apology.” He didn’t care.
If anybody in the military had done that it would’ve been jail, expulsion, or both. It would’ve been Fort Leavenworth. But not for this president, not for this man. It was just another day. Yet another in my experiences working for a man with absolutely no integrity and no moral fiber.
YOU CANNOT WHISPER YOURSELF OUT OF DECLINE!
Imagine standing before God before entering this world and being asked what you intend to do with your brief turn inside it.
Would you choose to guard permission slips beneath fluorescent lights? Would you cross eternity merely to tell braver people that nothing can be done because the form was submitted incorrectly?
Of course not!
Children understand this before fear educates them. They dream of crossing oceans, walking on the moon, fighting fires, commanding armies, and building things that outlive them. Then come the compromises. The impossible becomes impractical. The practical becomes comfortable. Comfort hardens into dependence until the child who wanted to storm the heavens becomes an adult whose greatest ambition is staying off someone’s radar.
That is how a person dies before death arrives.
Our institutions were built around this surrender. Make no enemies, disturb no furniture, move the needle quietly, protect the pension, and call survival wisdom. The system rewards people who threaten nothing, then wonders why nothing changes.
Measured approaches no longer work because the bureaucracy has learned to digest them. Quiet objections disappear into meetings. Reasonable proposals are staffed into oblivion. Every sharp truth is sanded down until the lie can comfortably live beside it.
You cannot whisper yourself out of decline!
What comes next requires radical authenticity: speaking the WHOLE truth, standing visibly behind it, and accepting the price without begging permission from people invested in failure.
Boldness is expensive. Cowardice sends the bill to your children. And it WILL come due.
You were NOT sent here to preserve yourself. You were sent here to leave the world altered by your passage. Speak the truth at full volume. Break what deserves to be broken. Build what fear said could never exist.
When the accounting comes, let heaven find nothing left in you but scars and spent fire.
And let hell remember your name for every inch of ground you denied it!
In America they told me the football game starts at 1 PM.
I arrived at 1 PM.
I was five hours late.
The parking lot was already a city.
A man had built a living room beside his truck. Not metaphorically. He had a couch. A television. A chandelier powered by a generator the size of a small horse.
He was grilling enough meat to feed a village, and when I walked past he said, "You hungry?"
I said I had not been invited.
He looked at me the way you look at someone who has apologized for breathing.
"Brother," he said. "You're here. That's the invitation."
He handed me a plate. It was not a small plate. The brisket hung over the edges like a man sleeping in a bed he has outgrown.
I ate it standing beside a stranger's couch in a parking lot in October, and it was among the finest meals of my life.
A woman across the row had a tent, a smoker, a speaker system, and a flag so large it could have sheltered a family of five beneath it.
She had been here since 6 AM.
The game had not started.
The game, I began to realize, was not the point.
I asked the man what time he would go inside the stadium.
He said, "Depends."
I asked on what.
He said, "On whether the ribs are done."
I want to be clear. He had a ticket. He had driven four hours. He had assembled a small civilization from the back of a pickup truck.
And he was considering not going to the game.
Because the ribs were not ready.
In Japan we tailgate nothing. We do not build living rooms in parking lots. We do not grill for strangers.
We sit quietly on trains and think about whether we remembered to bow at the right angle.
I have since attended eleven tailgates.
I have never once cared who won the game.
Nobody has.
The game is inside the stadium.
America is in the parking lot.