Democrat, lover of cats, dogs and all things furry, proud aunt to many. Cancer survivor. Oklahoman now living in Delaware. After vetting, I follow back.
James Robison
What Joyce Carol Oates wrote to Elon Musk on Twitter. I am told it rattled him. I love it.
“So curious that such a wealthy man never posts anything that indicates that he enjoys or is even aware of what virtually everyone appreciates – scenes from nature, pet dog or cat, praise for a movie, music, a book (but doubt that he reads); pride in a friend’s or relative’s accomplishment; condolences for someone who has died; pleasure in sports, acclaim for a favorite team; references to history. In fact he seems totally uneducated, uncultured. The poorest persons on Twitter may have access to more beauty & meaning in life than the ‘most wealthy person in the world.’”
James Comey was just indicted for "Threats against a President" for posting a photo of "8647."
Trump literally posted this picture of Biden when he was president.
You have got to be fucking kidding me. This Administration is an absolute fucking clown show.
Say what you will about President Biden, but in 4 years as President, he never started a war with Iran or tried to get us to pay for a $400 million ballroom.
He was too busy creating/recovering 16 million jobs, doing infrastructure, and doing his damn job.
We were WAY better off under Biden.
Obama:
Married to 1 woman. No affairs.
8 years as POTUS. No scandals
Never demanded anything named after himself.
Never sold pardons.
Oversaw the capture and killing of Bin Laden.
Worked to bring down our debt. Not DOUBLE it.
Won a NOBLE w/out whining and crying publicly for it.
Never took an award he didn't earn himself.
Demonstrated dignity & respect to all.
TRUMP WILL NEVER MEASURE UP. EVER!
AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT FINDS IT FUCKING INSANE THAT THE MAJORITY OF THE US GOVERNMENT IS ACTUALLY TRYING TO PUNISH A COMEDIAN FOR TELLING A JOKE, BUT NOT THE PRESIDENT FOR TERRORIZING THE WORLD AND THREATENING TO DEMOLISH AN ENTIRE CIVILIZATION 🤷
RIDICULOUS 🤡
Tengo una pequeña panadería. No somos famosos, pero pagamos las cuentas. El martes pasado, entró una mujer. Agarraba su bolso con tanta fuerza que sus nudillos estaban blancos. Miró la vitrina durante mucho tiempo—demasiado tiempo. Señaló el cupcake de vainilla natural más pequeño que teníamos. "Solo ese, por favor", susurró. "¿Podrías… podrías ponerle una velita pequeña? Es el cumpleaños número 6 de mi hija". Miré sus zapatos. Estaban mojados. Llovía afuera, y ella había caminado hasta aquí. Miré sus ojos. Enrojecidos. Conocía esa mirada. Es la mirada de un padre que tiene que elegir entre el alquiler y una fiesta. "Lo siento", dije, poniéndome mi mejor cara de actuación. "En realidad tengo un gran problema. ¿Ves este pastel de chocolate de 8 pulgadas con el glaseado de unicornio?". Ella miró el pastel caro en el mostrador. "Mi nuevo decorador lo arruinó", mentí. "El glaseado está… eh… disparejo. No puedo venderlo. Estaba a punto de tirarlo a la basura. ¿Me harías un favor y te lo llevas de mis manos? Sin cargo. Me ahorra la culpa de desperdiciar comida". Me miró fijamente. Lo sabía. El glaseado era perfecto. Empezó a llorar, justo allí frente a la bandeja de croissants. "¿Estás seguro?", preguntó. "Por favor", insistí. "Me estás haciendo un favor". Salió caminando con un pastel que habría costado $65, sosteniéndolo como si fuera oro. Ayer, encontré una tarjeta deslizada debajo de mi puerta. Era un dibujo de una niña de 6 años. Un unicornio con una gran sonrisa. Y en letras tambaleantes de crayón: "Gracias por hacer feliz a mi mami". La mejor ganancia que he tenido en todo el año.
Anonymous
My son is autistic. Nonverbal. He’s eight. We went to a restaurant. Family place. He got overwhelmed. Started stimming. Rocking. Making sounds. People stared. A woman at the next table said loudly “Can’t you control your child? This is ridiculous.” I was gathering our things to leave. We always leave. Then our waiter came over. Young guy. Maybe twenty. He knelt down next to my son. Started rocking with him. Gently. Matching his rhythm. My son stopped. Looked at him...
The waiter smiled and said “I got you, buddy. You’re okay.” Stayed there for five minutes. Just rocking. Being present. My son calmed completely. The waiter stood up and said “My brother’s autistic. I know the rocking helps.” Brought my son french fries. On the house. Sat with us while we ate. That woman who complained got up and left. The waiter said “Good riddance.” My son smiled. He never smiles at strangers. We finished our meal. Peacefully. I tried to tip extra. The waiter refused.
Said “Your son deserves to eat out like everyone else.” We’ve been back six times. Same waiter. Same kindness. My son looks for him now. Gets excited. Because someone saw him. Not his autism. Him.
One of the best presidents this country had. Columbia Graduate, Harvard Graduate, along with Harvard Law Grad. Honorable, articulate, wise beyond his years, a man of the people. If you agree like
🚨 WOMAN LEAVES CHURCH AFTER THEY ASKED FOR HER W2 TO VERIFY TITHING — AND PEOPLE SAY THIS CROSSES A LINE
She says it started like any normal first visit.
They welcomed her, gave her a small gift, made it feel warm and inviting.
Then they told first-time visitors to meet in the back if they wanted to join.
That’s when everything changed.
She claims they asked for her W2 to verify she was giving the full 10%.
Not a suggestion.
Not an honor system.
Verification.
She says growing up, churches talked about tithing, but no one was checking your income or tracking what you gave.
Now she’s hearing stories of pastors following up with people directly…asking why they haven’t been giving.
And at the same time?
Mega church leaders living in multi-million dollar homes, driving luxury cars, flying private.
Her reaction:
“I think you’re good… I don’t think you need my W2.”
People in the comments are saying this isn’t uncommon.
Is this faith, or is this something else entirely?