Breaking 🚨
The monster has been eliminated.
Hamas commander Walid Haniyeh—who burned two Jewish infants to death in a microwave and brutally mutilated and murdered a Christian female tourist after raping her on October 7—has been eliminated in a covert operation.
🚨Adam Sandler: "I will always stand by Israel, I can't stand people who criticize Israel and aren't in their shoes. I hate the lies they spread and their lack of knowledge, I'm proud to stand for the Israelis".
Thoughts?
Question for MAGA from a liberal woman. "Hi, I'm just wondering if you guys who voted for Trump – did you vote for the Department of Education to be dismantled? Because that's what he's doing right now.
🚨 IT’S OFFICIAL: The South Dakota GOP Sergeant at Arms has been FIRED after denying Scott Presler entry to an event with Leader John Thune
The party chairman has now APOLOGIZED to Presler:
“I want to personally apologize for how things were handled tonight at the SD GOP Convention…Matt Bruner has been relieved of his duties as one of our Sergeant at Arms by the lead Sergeant at Arms.”
The GOP should know by now that peaceful FAFO is always waiting!
Keep pushing, @ScottPresler 🇺🇸
The type of people who follow me are...
1 over 30
2 Christian
3 Unvaccinated
4 Conservative
5 Reject climate hysteria
6 Don't support Palestine
7 Anti WEF, WHO & UN
8 Anti trans movement
9 Pro life
10 Support deportation of illegals
How did you score out of 10?
If cutting USAID killed a child…
A single child.
It would be covered by the Media like the biggest story in history.
24/7 coverage.
But it hasn’t because USAID was used to overthrow governments and fund Dems.
I’m actually surprised they haven’t faked dying kids yet.
Yet…
Did you know that roughly only 15% of Americans refused the COVID Vaxx?
Kinda terrifying... that means that an astounding 85% of people followed the government's orders.
How many purebloods are out there?
Officer Ralph Mondesir is part of the Gwinnett County Police Department in Georgia. One afternoon, he was sitting in his patrol car finishing paperwork when someone ran up to him for help. They told him an 18-month-old baby wasn’t breathing. Mondesir quickly got out of his car and ran to the child. He picked the baby up and started CPR.
An off-duty nurse stepped in to give rescue breaths while Mondesir pressed on the boy’s chest. They worked side by side for seven long minutes. At first, the baby didn’t move, but then his pulse came back and he started breathing again. Paramedics arrived soon after and rushed him to the hospital. Doctors said the baby survived because of the fast work of Officer Mondesir and the nurse.
Mondesir said, “I got a little emotional towards the end. I just did what I was trained to do, and I will always keep doing it no matter what.”
He truly is a hero
To the women who are on this app im going to ask again and I’d love an honest answer..
If you could stay home, raise babies and run a cozy homemaker life.. Would you??
"If you marry that woman with Down syndrome, you're out of my will."
My mother said it plain as day. No hesitation.
I was 25 when I met Hannah. It was a small café near my workshop — the kind of place where the chairs don't match and the coffee is always slightly too hot. She was sitting alone by the window, reading.
On our very first date, she looked at me and said, quietly and without any drama: "I have Down syndrome. I live with my parents. I just wanted you to know that up front — no surprises."
I didn't say much. I just thought: whoever raised this woman did something right.
When I told my family, my mother said I'd ruin my future. That people would talk. That she wouldn't help us. A few friends stopped calling — slowly at first, then all at once.
Hannah never argued with any of them. She never once asked me to defend her or fight for her. She just kept showing up — meeting me after work, ordering the same chamomile tea, making me laugh at things I hadn't noticed before.
Coffee became dinners. Dinners became Sunday mornings. One year later, I proposed in the same church where I was baptized, surrounded by the twelve people who hadn't walked away.
We married that same year.
Ten years later, we are raising our son, Caleb. Every night, Hannah falls asleep holding my hand. Every morning, Caleb climbs into our bed before either of us is ready to be awake. That's our family. The one they said wouldn't last.
Last month, I ran into an old friend who had stopped calling. He looked at a photo of the three of us on my phone and said, "You look really happy, man."
"I am," I said. And that was enough.
My mother never changed her mind. She missed the wedding. She's missed every birthday Caleb has had.
I don't tell this story for sympathy. I tell it because someone out there is standing exactly where I stood — being told that love has conditions, that the people who are supposed to be in your corner get a vote on who deserves to be in your life.
They don't.
My name is William Michael Holte.
Trolls say it's my "slave name," but I embrace it.
Because I am not African-American.
I am Amer-I-CAN full stop.
I want nothing to do with Africa.
I don’t relate in any way to slavery.
I neither want nor deserve reparations.
I determine my own identity, not the tribe or the demon-crats.
I'm black on the outside but white on the inside.
I'm Christian.
I’m ULTRA-conservative.
I stand for the anthem.
I'm gay but I don't care about the Pride flag.
Or the Ukraine flag.
Or the Palestinian flag.
Or the Mexican flag.
The Stars and Stripes is the only flag I wave.
I voted for Trump twice.
And I'd vote a 3rd time if I could.
Because even after all these years, he's the only one I still trust.
Anyone else feel this way?
This story sounds phony. 7pm & your kids haven't had dinner yet? A diaper bag always goes along with the baby. It should be in the car. Where was her handbag? Why would she put her wallet in the diaper bag? I'm all for helping out a stranger in need but this is questionable.
Y'all. This gentleman right here is Barry. He paid for my groceries when I realized I left my wallet in Emmy's diaper bag. The cashier had finished ringing everything up and gave me my total. After I couldn't find my wallet, the cashier and bagger graciously offered to suspend my order and put all my perishable items in a cooler so I could run home to get my wallet. I explained I live 20+ minutes away and by the time my kids and I would make it back an hour will have passed. It was already 7:00 and we still needed to eat dinner. I succumbed to the fact I would have to put an order in online and pick it up the following day. Trust me, I realize there are people with actual problems in this world, but at that moment, I felt completely defeated. My husband had just left for Texas and would be gone for two weeks and there was still so much to do at home. My son, who just got done helping me put everything on the conveyor belt kept asking what was wrong. In my frustration and anger (toward myself) I said through clenched teeth ‘I don't have my wallet; we have to leave’. Now comes the good part. In steps Barry asking, ‘How much is it?’ I profusely refuse, but Barry's persistent so I tell him my total. He hands his card to the cashier and looks at me and says ‘I've been there before. I understand. My wife recently died and if she were here, she'd want me to help you. So, I'm doing it for her, too.’ It might have been weird asking to take a picture, but he was my saving grace this evening. He's a reminder that there's plenty of good out there.”
Credit: Becky Loos
“Puede que tu hijo acabe trabajando toda su vida en un supermercado.”
Alguien me dijo eso justo después de que diagnosticaran a mi hijo Jack con autismo.
Con los años, esa frase se me quedó clavada.
Pensé en ella cuando no podía quedarse sentado en clase.
Cuando no podía volver solo del colegio.
Cuando empezó primaria.
Luego secundaria.
Luego bachillerato.
Y ahora mira.
Mi hijo tiene 21 años.
Trabaja en un supermercado.
Está en la sección de reposición.
Trabaja de 8:00 a 14:00, tres días a la semana.
Se pone la alarma.
Prepara su uniforme.
Camina hasta la parada del autobús.
Llega puntual.
Cumple su turno.
Y vuelve a casa orgulloso.
En esta vida junto al autismo he aprendido algo:
No siempre se trata del destino.
A veces se trata de todo lo que costó llegar hasta allí.
He aprendido que vivir de una forma diferente no significa vivir menos.
Y que cualquier trabajo, sea cual sea, hecho con esfuerzo y dignidad, merece respeto.
Qué cosa tan bonita.
Acompáñenme a felicitar a mi hijo por sus primeros cuatro meses en su trabajo.
Estamos profundamente orgullosos de él.
I was born in 1961 IN AMERICA.
So my name is William Michael Holte, not Kwame Mensah, Kofi Asante, Kojo Owusu or Chinedu Nwosu.
I celebrate Independence Day, NOT JUNETEENTH.
I celebrate Christmas, not Kwanzaa.
I’m not AFRICAN-American, I’m AMERICAN.
I’m not a BLACK American, I’m an AMERICAN.
My loyalty belongs to America, not to any fake African identity.
My history is American history, not African history.
My colors are RED, WHITE, and BLUE - not red, black, and green.
My anthem is the Star-Spangled Banner, not the Black National Anthem.
My flag is the Stars and Stripes, not the African Union banner.
My symbol is the bald eagle, not the Black Power fist or the letters "BLM."
I went to a white Catholic college, not an HBCU.
I got ahead through hard work and good education, not DEI and Affirmative Action.
In school, I recited The Pledge of Allegiance TO AMERICA.
I support The U.S. Constitution, not the weaponization of it against American citizens.
My future is tied to America’s success, not to racist democrat takeover policies.
And my president is Donald J Trump, not anybody else.
Who's with me on this?
Ryan Thompson, one of the MLB pitchers who REFUSED to wear a LGBT Pride Hat is Kayleigh McEnany's Brother in Law! He just defended the Biblical meaning of rainbows
Let's show Ryan that millions of Christians have his back!