shyleir em

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@amgarratt @SimonCalder Hi Andy last time I checked if you had luggage for the hold you needed a passport? Are you saying that’s changed now?

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@MichelleDewbs what a silly man you have on your show!! Going to have to switch off!!

[Lee Harris @LeeHarris]

🚨NEW: Henry Nowak's father *directly* calls out the disgusting behaviour of Hampshire police.

"Instead of being treated as a dying victim, the police arrested him for assault"

"That was the last thing he heard"

Hampshire police are a DISGRACE!
RELEASE THE FOOTAGE!

[Camus @newstart_2024]

This MRI study on young kids just exposed something terrifying:

They scanned the brains of 60 children aged 3–5 — including 5-year-old Rose — and found interactive screen time is causing measurable loss of white matter in their developing brains. Even just 2 hours a day is linked to impaired neural connectivity, language, and literacy development.

Professor Mike Nagel (neuroscientist and father) said his first reaction was simply: “Wow… I was not anticipating seeing anything like that.”

We’re physically changing children’s brains before they even start school — and the damage is visible on scans.

This one actually unsettled me. I’ve always suspected too much screen time was bad, but seeing real white matter loss in toddlers hits different.

Parents of little ones — has this kind of research changed how much screen time you allow?

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@Trash_Man84 Lovely looking guy clean shaven 😊

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@WorkElizab Switzerland

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@lady_valor_07 26

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@LadyXsize absolutely with you on the transplant issue and it was also my first thought too. 😊

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@IsraelArmyStan No

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@BritifyUK 👍

[Reasoned Liberal @tuckedupp]

David Blunkett "We just didn't understand that [the Islamists] were not just anti-Western, but on a different plane altogether, and this is still not widely understood in the UK. We can be as nice as pie to them, but that's not the issue. They are on a mission that has taken them outside anything we can say, a mission to destroy completely our way of life. Because [British authorities] think it's just a few extremists, they are continuing to track the threat of big, spectacular attacks, looking, for example, at transfers of materials for bombs, whereas what they should be looking at is what's going on inside people's heads."

And we still don’t fully grasp what we’re dealing with.

[M Mc @MDMCV2]

If you love this country and it's history havea listen to Danny Kruger give this speech. And the tragedy that no one bothered to turn up. 🙁 @reformparty_uk @danny__kruger

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@PatrickChristys Can’t stand this woman!!

[S A M M Y Woodhouse @officialsammyuk]

Today, we opened the hearings for the Rape Gang Inquiry.

My opening statement…

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@AngelMD1103 Hasn’t got through the checkout? Happened to me once but I hadn’t bought anything and so bypassed the checkout area. Wheels were locked as a result.

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

Four Old Men. Two Wheelchairs. One Beach. Alan Alda’s 90th Birthday

January 28, 2026.

Alan Alda turned 90.

His family planned a safe celebration at home.

Cake. Balloons. Grandkids.

Alan said no.

“I don’t want a party,” he said.

His daughter frowned.

“Dad… you’re turning ninety. This is a big deal.”

“I know,” Alan said.

“But I don’t want to celebrate here.”

“Then where?”

Alan didn’t hesitate.

“I want to go to the beach.”

The room went still.

“The beach?”

“Dad, you’re in a wheelchair.”

“You can barely stand.”

Alan smiled.

That smile.

The Hawkeye Pierce smile — the one that always meant something stubborn was coming.

“So?”

By that afternoon, he had already decided who was coming.

“The four of us,” he said.

“The last four.”

Gary Burghoff.

Jamie Farr.

Mike Farrell.

And himself.

The final survivors of the 4077th.

“No cameras. No interviews. No speeches,” Alan said.

“Just us.”

The phone calls began.

Gary answered first.

“Happy birthday, old man! Ninety!”

“Thanks. I need you to drive.”

“Drive where?”

“To the beach.”

A pause.

“Alan… you’re in a wheelchair.”

“So are facts. They don’t stop me either.”

Gary laughed.

That Radar laugh Alan had known for over fifty years.

“Fine. But I’m not pushing you through sand.”

“I’ll crawl if I have to.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m Hawkeye. Same thing.”

Jamie Farr was next.

“The beach?” Jamie said.

“I’m ninety-one and in a wheelchair.”

“Then we’ll have two wheelchairs at the beach.”

“Like a parade?”

“Like a victory lap.”

Jamie laughed until his voice cracked.

“You haven’t changed since 1972.”

“And you’re still Klinger.”

“Fine. I’m in.”

Mike Farrell sighed the moment he answered.

“Let me guess,” he said.

“You want me to push your wheelchair.”

“Yes.”

“I’m eighty-six. I use a cane.”

“BJ Hunnicutt once saved a man with dental floss,” Alan said.

“You’ll manage.”

Long pause.

“…Fine.”

January 28. 6:00 a.m.

Gary arrived in a rented van.

Two wheelchair spaces.

He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

At Alan’s house, his daughter hovered.

“Dad, are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“What if something happens?”

“Something is always about to happen at ninety,” Alan said.

“Might as well happen at the beach.”

Jamie was waiting outside his house.

Wheelchair. Sunglasses.

Hawaiian shirt.

“You coordinated outfits?” Gary asked.

“It’s tradition,” Jamie said.

“The 4077th always matched.”

Mike showed up next.

Also in a Hawaiian shirt.

Four old men.

One van.

Heading west.

On the drive, memories filled the air.

Harry driving too fast.

Larry bringing his own wine.

Radar making everyone cry.

Klinger never sleeping.

When the MASH* theme song came on, no one spoke.

After it ended, Alan said quietly,

“That song used to annoy me.”

“Now?”

“Now it just reminds me how lucky we were.”

At Malibu, reality hit.

Wheelchairs don’t work on sand.

Jamie grumbled.

Mike rubbed his back.

Alan stared at the ocean.

Gary disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later, he returned with two lifeguards and two beach wheelchairs.

One lifeguard whispered,

“My grandmother watched MASH* every night.”

It took time.

Transfers were slow.

Hands trembled.

Bones protested.

But they made it.

To the water.

Alan closed his eyes.

The sound of waves.

Salt in the air.

Sun on his face.

“I forgot what this felt like,” he said.

They talked about the ones who weren’t there.

McLean.

Wayne.

Larry.

Harry.

Bill.

David.

Loretta.

Jamie finally broke the silence.

“Let’s race.”

Two wheelchairs.

Two pushers.

One rock.

They raced.

They tied.

People on the beach stared.

A teenager asked, “What are those old guys doing?”

His mother said, “Living.”

As the sun set, Alan spoke.

“This might be the last time.”

No one argued.

“That’s why it matters,” he said.

“Because we know.”

He made a wish.

“One more year.”

“One more adventure.”

“Korea. Together.”

They promised.

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@MartinSLewis I always haggle my AA membership and get it knocked down to a level I will accept.

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@venom1s Disgusting!! I would never get into an UBER.

[shyleir em @shyleir]

@SamaramGill @TalkTV @petercardwell Brilliant news but should never have gone so far. ❤️