Manager for Local 706 IATSE Make Up Artists & Hair Stylists Guild since 1999. Making non union Make Up ARtists & Hair Stylists dreams come true since 1999.
Nobody asked them to do it. Nobody trained them for it. They were just two teenage boys — the kind you pass on the sidewalk and barely notice — leaning on their bikes in the summer heat when they saw something no child should ever have to experience.
A man walked away with 5-year-old Jocelyn Rojas. She was supposed to be playing outside. She was supposed to be safe.
And in that single, awful second — while most of us would have been paralyzed, reaching for a phone, waiting for someone with a uniform and a badge to show up — these two boys made a choice.
They got on their bikes and they went after him.
No hesitation. No waiting for permission. No "someone else will handle it." Just two pairs of legs pumping hard through the streets of Lancaster, eyes locked on a stranger who had a little girl that wasn't his.
They tracked him. They stayed close. They didn't let him disappear into the afternoon like something that was never going to be found.
And then they confronted him.
Two teenagers. On bikes. Against a grown man who had already done the unthinkable. They forced him to stop.
He let Jocelyn go.
"The entire thing lasted only minutes." — Lancaster Police
Minutes. Because two boys closed the distance fast enough to interrupt it. Because they were raised — by someone, somehow — to believe that other people's emergencies are your business too.
When reporters asked one of them afterward why they did it, he gave the most deflating, most beautiful, most teenage answer imaginable.
He shrugged.
"I just felt like it was the right thing to do."
No speech. No GoFundMe. No press conference. Just a kid who saw a little girl in danger and couldn't make himself look away.
Jocelyn went home. She was reunited with her family. She got to grow up.
Because of two boys on bikes who hadn't been asked, hadn't been trained, hadn't been paid — and did it anyway.
🚨 California Passed "The Stop Nick Shirley Act":
This week the California Assembly passed AB 2624. This bill will criminalize investigative journalism involving the immigrant population. It would have made it illegal to expose the Somali "Learing" center if it were in California or the Armenian hospice fraud in LA if they claimed "reasonable fear."
The bill protects "immigration support services providers," which means services provided to immigrants, including health care. It has been proven that millions, potentially billions, of dollars in fraud has taken place in "immigrant support services” which includes nonprofits and NGOs the state funds.
California is trying to make it harder to expose fraud and scare individuals from investigating it as they could be forced and sued to remove the video, forced to pay attorney fees, and ordered to pay a minimum of $4,000 in damages.
This bill was created by Mia Bonta (the attorney general's wife). She has made 4 separate versions of this bill because each version violates the 1st Amendment and is extremely unconstitutional.
Plain and simple, California politicians need the fraud to continue because they depend on the fraud to push their agendas. END ALL THE FRAUD.
🚨 California just voted to pass AB 2624 aka “The Stop Nick Shirley Act”:
This bill puts journalists at civil risk for investigating fraud and makes it harder to expose fraud in “immigration support services,” including NGOs, nonprofits and health care facilities that receive hundreds of millions from the state of California each year.
This bill would have made it criminal to expose fake hospices in LA or the Somali “learing center” in Minnesota if they then claim “reasonable fear” and the business owner gives a written demand not to post the video.
Plain and simple, California is trying to make it harder to expose fraud and scare individuals from investigating fraud in their communities, as they could be sued for an injunction to remove the video + forced to pay their attorney fees + minimum $4,000 in damages.
The Attorney General's wife, Mia Bonta, created this bill and is now trying to make it law. How is this not a conflict of interest?
California is full of FRAUDSTERS!
My dad handed me two clothespins. “This,” he said, “is the story of everything.”
In one hand: a clothespin from the 1960s. Solid hardwood, smooth from decades of use. It still works perfectly, some 60 years later.
In the other: a clothespin from 2025. Lighter, paler wood, brittle. The spring is thin and unstable. Marketed as “extra durable,” my dad just raised an eyebrow.
At first glance, it’s just two clothespins. But they tell a bigger story — the shift from durability to disposability, from craftsmanship to cost-cutting, from stewardship to constant consumption. This is planned obsolescence in action.
Products are designed to fail so we must keep buying. Slowly, subtly, they break. Frayed wires, cracked hinges, brittle springs. Not because we want more, but because the old was never built to last.
The costs are everywhere. Landfills overflow. Wallets empty. And maybe most quietly, our spirits grow accustomed to impermanence, to the idea that nothing is meant to endure.
What if this philosophy extends beyond objects? What if it shapes how we treat relationships, communities, homes, even the Earth — as temporary, replaceable, disposable?
It doesn’t have to be this way. That 1960s clothespin reminds us another path is possible. That we once made things to last, and we can again. That quality, care, and intention matter. That we can design for repair, for continuity, for meaning.
The story in my palm is about more than laundry. It’s about the choices we make and the world they create.
The Audit That Exposed It All
LAHSA never disclosed the related-party transactions to its auditors.
Lead auditor Justin Measley told the audit committee in April 2026 that his team only learned about the connection through media coverage, stating, "The article is what triggered us knowing about this specifically".
The audit revealed far more than undisclosed conflicts: it found significant deficiencies in internal controls, inaccurate financial statements requiring late corrections, and missed federal compliance requirements.
LAHSA's 100-person finance staff managing $810 million in annual revenue couldn't produce accurate books, and the agency missed its federal audit deadline by more than three weeks, jeopardizing future funding.
The Broader Network
The conflict extended beyond Adams Kellum's immediate family.
Upward Bound House's CEO, Christine Mirasy-Glasco, was a former LAHSA executive who had led the agency's Programs, Contracts and Grants Management Department.
A 2016 LAHSA election page shows Adams Kellum publicly endorsing Mirasy-Glasco for a board position. Adams Kellum also signed a $250,000 contract with St. Joseph Center, the nonprofit she had led as CEO until weeks earlier, with her name still listed as their contact person.
LAHSA had no written conflict of interest policy when any of this occurred, only adopting one in September 2025 after the scandal broke.
In October 2023, Bass appointed herself to LAHSA's governing commission, the first LA mayor to ever do so, giving her direct oversight of the CEO she had championed.
Bass then voted with commissioners in 2024 to authorize additional Upward Bound House contracts, even though the commission had previously barred Adams Kellum from signing the original $2.1 million agreement.
County supervisors reportedly weren't notified of the family conflict before voting.
When LA County withdrew $300+ million from LAHSA in April 2025 over accountability concerns, Bass defended the agency and criticized the move as creating "more bureaucracy".
The Core Conflict
In May 2024, Adams Kellum signed a contract worth nearly $2.1 million with Upward Bound House, where her husband Edward Kellum worked as Director of Operations and Compliance.
Her signature appeared directly above her husband's employer's name on the document.
She had told reporters she was "completely recused" from matters involving his employer, yet her name appeared as the "authorized administrator" on the contract.
When confronted, she claimed her signature was "unintentionally applied" by staff, but emails from her official account discussed the contracts, and electronic records showed the documents were signed using her credentials.
By fiscal year's end, LAHSA had paid Upward Bound House approximately $4.77 million.
🧵Spencer Pratt is taking on Mayor Karen Bass in LA's mayoral race, and his accusations of fraud are backed by documented evidence of serious financial misconduct and conflicts of interest at the city's homeless agency.
The LAHSA Scandal: A Web of Conflicts, Missing Millions, and Political Proximity
When Va Lecia Adams Kellum took over as CEO of the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority in early 2023, she arrived with the full backing of Mayor Karen Bass.
Bass had personally recruited her, paid her through a no-bid $60,000 consulting contract to embed her in City Hall, and publicly celebrated her as "instrumental" in developing Inside Safe, the mayor's signature homelessness initiative.
What neither Bass nor LAHSA disclosed at the time was that Adams Kellum would soon sign millions of dollars in contracts with a nonprofit where her husband held a senior position, all while claiming she had completely recused herself from any decisions involving that organization.
Nobody believed her the first time. Nobody believed her the second time. But Echo wasn't moving.
On a Tuesday morning in March 2019, K-9 Echo — a Rottweiler with the Memphis Police Department — was doing a routine check on a school bus. Forty-three elementary school children were waiting to board. Echo alerted at the rear compartment. Her handler, Officer Calvin Bridges, checked it. Nothing visible. He cleared it.
Echo alerted again.
He cleared it again.
Then she did something she had never done in five years of working together. She walked to the door of that bus and sat down. She would not move.
Officer Bridges had a choice — trust what his eyes saw, or trust his dog. He chose his dog. He pulled the driver aside. He got every single child off that bus.
When he opened the rear compartment fully and removed a hidden false panel built into the bus itself, he found eleven kilograms of methamphetamine — packed tight, sealed, and treated with a special compound designed to hide the smell. It had blocked 80% of the scent. Echo found it anyway.
At the trial, Officer Bridges was asked why he pulled those children off the bus. His answer was simple.
"Because she sat down. In five years, she had never sat down like that. I trust my dog. I will always trust my dog."
The bus driver was convicted. The trafficking network behind the shipment was taken apart over the following year — fourteen arrests, seven convictions.
Echo received the department's Distinguished Service Award. She stood on the podium. She got a treat. She ate it. Then she looked at Bridges — ready to go back to work.
Some dogs bark to warn you. Echo just sat down.
And forty-three children went home that afternoon.
AZ Kris
Last night, Luna stopped being “just my dog.”She became the reason I’m safe.
It was a little after 2 a.m. when I heard something downstairs. At first, I thought I imagined it—half asleep, too tired to think clearly. But Luna heard it too.
Her head lifted instantly.
Not barking. Not growling. Just listening in that intense, focused way dogs do when they know something isn’t right.
Then she stood up and moved in front of me.
That’s when I heard it again.
The sound of someone trying to force the back door open.
My stomach dropped.
I froze for a second, but Luna didn’t. The moment footsteps entered the house, she exploded into the loudest bark I’ve ever heard from her. Not playful. Not warning. Protective.
She ran straight toward the noise without hesitation.
And suddenly, all I heard downstairs was crashing, shouting, and someone scrambling to get out as fast as possible.
By the time I called the police, the thief was already gone.
And Luna?
She came back upstairs shaking.
Not because she was aggressive.
Not because she was dangerous.
Because she was scared too.
She climbed right beside me on the bed and pressed herself against my chest while my hands were still trembling. Like after everything, her first concern was making sure I was okay.
People judge pitbulls before they even know them.
They see the breed before they see the heart.
But Luna has never been violent. Never cruel. She’s the dog who cries during thunderstorms, gets excited over peanut butter, and thinks she’s a lap dog despite weighing almost 70 pounds.
Last night, she wasn’t protecting the house.
She was protecting me.
And the truth is, I don’t know what could’ve happened if she hadn’t been there.
So while the world keeps debating dogs like her…
I’ll just keep looking at the one sleeping peacefully beside me right now, knowing that when I needed her most, Luna didn’t hesitate for a second.
She was brave enough for both of us. 🐾❤️
Credit: Victoria Grace
Dear Jimmy Kimmel, listen to me very closely.
I’m a comedian. I’ve made fun of Jill Biden. I’ve made fun of Michelle Obama. I’ve roasted First Ladies before.
But I have never in my life joked about Jill Biden becoming a widow or Michelle Obama becoming a widow.
I’ve never joked about Joe Biden or Barack Obama having an attempt made on their life. I’ve never laughed at the thought of their wives standing there in fear, wondering if their husbands are going to make it home alive.
Because that is not comedy.
That is sick.
You could have joked about Melania being married to Trump. You could have joked about politics. You could have even gone after her accent like liberals usually do.
But no — you chose to joke about Melania Trump becoming a widow.
And let’s be honest, Jimmy: when you hate Donald Trump as much as you do, that doesn’t sound like a joke.
It sounds like how you really feel.
They always say there is truth in comedy.