On March 26, 2026, during a debate on violence against women in Germany’s Bundestag, left-wing MP Kathrin Gebel was repeatedly interrupted by AfD MP Martin Reichardt. She responded:
“Mr. Reichardt, the clitoris has 3,000 nerve endings, and you’re still more sensitive. That’s quite an achievement.”
In the mountains of Wyoming, around Jackson Hole, the most popular golf courses have lots of bears in the surrounding forest.
Because bears often appear on the golf course, the Wyoming Department of Fish and Wildlife was invited to speak to course members. During the meeting, the game warden offered the following advice:
1. Wear noise-producing devices such as little bells on your clothing to alert bears to your presence. Startling a bear is a bad idea, and this will help ensure the bear is not surprised by your approach.
2. Carry a can of pepper spray in your golf bag, just in case of an encounter with a bear. Make sure it’s the more concentrated “bear spray” versus traditional self-defense pepper spray.
3. Always keep a keen eye open for signs of bear activity in the area.
4. Golfers should learn to recognize the difference between black bear and grizzly bear scat on the golf course. Black bear scat is smaller and often contains berries or possibly squirrel or rodent fur. On the other hand, grizzly bear droppings are much larger, may contain little bells, and smell a lot like pepper spray.
DONALD TRUMP IS WEAK ON ALGAE. THANKS TO ME, CALIFORNIA HAS BEEN ALGAE-FREE FOR 2000 YEARS. PEOPLE CALL ME CRYING, "THANK YOU FOR WINNING THE WAR ON ALGAE!" MANY SAY TRUMP FEARS ALGAE BECAUSE IT SOUNDS LIKE ALGEBRA. HE HAS SURRENDERED AND WILL TURN US INTO UNITED STATES OF ALGAE!
"Go ahead and play while you wait, hon."
The woman set a wooden triangle on my table. Fourteen pegs. One empty hole. She left before I could ask the stakes.
A trial. Before the meal. Eight hundred years of my house, and never a host bold enough to test a man at breakfast.
The rules were carved in the wood. Jump a peg, remove it. Clear the board. I studied it like a battlefield.
I jumped. I jumped again. Seven pegs left.
The sign named me for it. "Leave 4 or more: just plain eggno-good." I did not know the rank. I knew the shame.
The waitress came back with water. "Oh, nobody beats that thing, sweetie."
Mercy. She was sparing me in front of the boy. "You honor me."
She blinked. "You want the pancakes?"
The second trial. I reset all fourteen. Jump. Jump. Sweating onto a placemat shaped like Tennessee.
Five left. "Pretty smart," said the sign. A full rank, and no sword had been drawn.
The boy leaned over. "You're doing it wrong, mister. You gotta go backwards."
Backwards. The child was a master sent to test my humility. I thanked him.
The waitress set down a plate I had not ordered. "On the house. You've been at it twenty minutes."
A vigil. I stood and bowed the way my father bowed at funerals.
"...it's hash browns, buddy," said a man at the register.
I sat back down. One peg left standing. The sign said "you're genius." My eggs were cold. My hand would not close.
But a boy taught a stranger to think backward, and a woman fed me for trying. A house that hands you a riddle before the bread believes you can win.
WATCH: Russian soldiers fire MANPADS from a highway near civilian cars.
They thought Kyiv would fall in 72 hours. Four years later, they’re firing missiles from highways to protect Moscow from Ukrainian drones.
Ukraine is winning🇺🇦👊
Stateside, a gas station. I drank a frozen blue beverage too quickly, and was struck down by a punishment this entire nation knows, and accepts, and has named.
The drink is called a slush. Ice, sweetness, and a blue that does not occur in nature. The day was hot. I was thirsty. I drank like a soldier at a river.
The pain arrived in my skull like a war horn.
Behind the eyes. Above everything. Total. I gripped the roof of my car. I may have made a sound.
"Brain freeze," said the cashier through the door, with no urgency whatsoever.
It has a NAME. The affliction is so common it has a household name, like a cousin.
"Tongue on the roof of your mouth," called a man at the pumps. He did not look over. He prescribed the remedy mid-pump, casually, the way one mentions weather.
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. The war horn faded. The healer nodded at his pump, finished, and was gone in a Chevrolet.
In my land, punishment follows crime by way of courts and seasons. Here, the sentence is instant. Drink with greed, and the ice strikes the mind directly. No trial. No appeal. Perfectly fair.
And here is what moves me. EVERYONE has felt it. The cashier. The healer. Children. Elders. An entire nation united by the same small lightning, all taught the same cure, all passing it on to strangers at gas stations, free of charge.
You cannot fully distrust a country once you know it shares one pain.
The freeze does not punish thirst. It punishes haste.
I finished the slush slowly, like a scholar. Blue tongue. Clear mind.
Then at the door I forgot everything, drank deeply, and was struck down again.
"Tongue, hon," said the cashier, without looking up.
Discipline is a journey.
@SlickRickFowler 50/56/60 I have trouble hitting 100 yds with a 54 and don’t get to practice a lot. 56 has a 100 ready to go and can adjust from there.
@PaulSpacey Struggling with this in my kiddo, loves the game, constantly practicing but has to learn to play through some contact. I was always a little too comfortable w/ physical play, lol, trying to find a balance for him. But it’s joy watching him develop.
@engineeringolf I prefer it locked in but only lightly ground it at address so not much factor. I DO like it to look a little open and if I have to manipulate it a lot to get the look I want I move on.