It should be noted that Canada clutches its pearls, claiming the USA should send “support” to assist Canada is fighting wildfires instead of blaming them for mismanagement. However, reciprocity is a big problem.
Most of the firefighting takes place as an outcome of private-public contracts for costs. The Canadian government blocks U.S. companies from fighting fires in Canada because the Canadian government wants to only pay Canadian companies and workers. U.S. firefighting is not allowed to assist in Canada and get reimbursed.
Conversely, the Canadians quickly want to come to the U.S. to fight fires because the USA reimburses firefighting companies at a higher rate than Canada. The USA has no federal restrictions on Canadian firefighting assistance.
Canadian firefighting professionals would rather fight forest fires in the USA because they make more money. There is no incentive for U.S. firefighting professionals to volunteer their time and effort without getting reimbursed; which is the position of Canada.
In essence, come to Canada and fight our fires for free because we will only pay Canadians. However, also, let our Canadian firefighters come to the USA and make money. It is a very Canadian argument.
Canadian Prime Minister Blames U.S. Climate and Energy Policy for Canada Wildfires https://t.co/1zmmOIW8xs
Who am I? Here’s some insight.
GROWING UP AN AMERICAN KID IN OSLO
Picture this: I’m 8 years old, fresh off a PanAm flight from New York City (my first airplane ride that I remember), stepping into a world where it snows like crushed diamonds and the fjords look like they were painted.
My dad had been assigned to be the Aide to the USAF General working in NATO Headquarters at Kolsas Mountain. He was a young captain with my mom, and my brother and I.
Oslo, Norway in the early ‘60s was my giant, icy playground. I was the wide-eyed American kid whose family settled in an otherwise completely Norwegian neighborhood. I taught the boys on the street baseball and American football, and they taught me soccer and skiing in the nearby hills.
Mornings started with the smell of fresh boller (those sweet cardamom buns) from the corner baker, whose name I still remember, “Odd Stalem.” Brusque old dude. My mom sent us up the hill everyday for fresh bread. In the winter, my brother and I would grab onto the bumpers of cars and ride them up the snow-packed streets. In the summer, we busted out the bikes.
On school mornings, I’d bundle up in my jeans, sweater, wool socks, and a ski cap, throw on some cross country skis, and schuss through knee-deep snow to the American Embassy school not far away.
The teachers there actually expected me to learn Norwegian. By age nine, I could say “Jeg er en amerikansk gutt som savner peanut butter” with perfect pronunciation.
Winters were pure magic. We’d ski right down the slopes behind our condo in Bjerke, some training ski jumps immediately nearby. The polar night turned everything into a fairy tale—streetlights glowing orange against the blue-black sky, the air so cold it made your eyelashes freeze together. Once, skiing in Beito over a family Christmas vacation, my nostrils froze coming down a run. I didn’t care! 🤣
But then came the summers! The sun refused to go to bed, and we’d play outside until midnight, eating wild strawberries the size of your thumb. We’d play baseball with the neighborhood boys until late in the evening. They called it “Buzzball.” I didn’t correct them. 🤣🤣🤣
I learned that Norwegians put brown cheese (brunost) on everything and that “takk” opens more doors than “please.” I watched the King ride by in his carriage during Constitution Day parades, all flags and bunting and marching bands. My mom dressed my brother and I up in matching blue suits with Norwegian flag ties.
On weekends we’d take the ferry across the Oslofjord to islands and camp. We roasted pølser over driftwood fires and the seagulls screamed overhead like they owned the place.
Being an American kid in Oslo back then was like living in two worlds at once. I had baseball cards in my pocket and Viking legends in my head. I spoke English at home and Norwegian at school.
I missed my grandparents and Saturday morning cartoons back home (in fact, we had one TV station that broadcast 3 hours a day), but I gained a whole country that taught me resilience, wonder, and how to appreciate a really good waffle or a sausage.
Those three years in Norway didn’t just shape me—they colored my soul with northern lights, bright green hills, and majestic fjord blue. And I miss them now that my parents have passed.
To this day, when I smell cardamom or hear someone say “Hei hei,” I’m instantly nine years old again, sliding down a snowy hill in Oslo with the wind in my face and the whole world feeling like the biggest adventure ever.
Skål to the best childhood a kid could ask for! 🇳🇴❤️🇺🇸
Bernie Sanders own three homes. No one NEEDS three homes. He could sell one and save healtcare for thousands of people.
Why does Bernie want people to die?
I, a mere idiot, have a conundrum.
A wonderful epic human from x dot com has sent my daughter an INCREDIBLE gift for our grandson. I cannot find her in my messages where I KNOW we have spoken. Queen. Hero. Please please message me again. It has arrived!!!! This place is full of winners. What a lovely gesture. She leaves to have the baby on Sunday.
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. 😂