Dear France 🇫🇷✨
If one day you have to organize Olympic Games, World Cups, European Championships, or any other major event
Have the good sense to hand it over to those four bishops and two dioceses that put this together for Pope Leo
Sincerely
🚨 These are great tips for women to protect themselves. We are living in dangerous times, and I would like to add one more piece of advice my dad gave me.
If you’re in a parking lot and someone tries to get into your car with you or pull you into theirs, fight back, scream “911” instead of “help,” and never leave the area with them. He told me that if they intend to k!ll you, they will have to do it right there rather than taking you to a private place of their choosing. Keep vigilant 🙏🙏
@realMaalouf There's no such thing as a non-terrorist Muslim.
There's the ones that do the killing and the ones that pray for the success of the ones doing the killing.
All of them are cheering on the slaughter of every non Muslim because Muhammad, the pedophile warmonger, said so.
I am a private person.
I carry my shame in quiet rooms.
Yet at Trader Joe’s, a boy in a floral hibiscus shirt looked down at my conveyor belt and exposed my raw, bleeding interior to the public square.
"Bro," he said, holding up a package of frozen pork soup dumplings as though it were the Holy Grail recovered from Antioch.
"Have you had these? These slap so hard."
I blinked.
I had picked them because I was tired and alone.
"I haven't," I whispered.
He leaned across the scanner. His eyes were wide with genuine, terrifying intimacy.
"Dude. Steam them for eight minutes, put chili crisp on top, and it will literally change your spiritual trajectory."
He scanned my cheap bourbon.
"Oh, celebrating tonight? Good for you, man. You deserve it."
I was not celebrating.
My landlord had raised the rent and my car was making a sound like a dying crow.
But under the warmth of his floral cotton gaze, I suddenly believed that I did deserve it.
He bagged my bread on top, as gently as a mother tucking in an infant.
"Any big plans for the weekend?" he asked.
I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to confess my sins, my doubts, the cold dread that wakes me at 4 AM. I wanted him to absolve me.
Instead, I took my brown paper sacks and choked back a tear.
"Just resting," I said.
"Hell yeah," he replied, pointing a finger-gun directly at my sternum. "Rest hard, king."
I walked to my car feeling as though I had been baptized in coconut oil and pure, weaponized California optimism.
¡700.000 de RODILLAS se rindieron en PARÍS!
París no es católica, decían...
Francia ya no cree, decían...
Mira esta pequeña muestra.😊
El Papa León XIV presidiendo la misa ante más de 700.000 personas en la Plaza de la Concordia, en pleno corazón de París y símbolo de la República francesa.
Una Misa gigante al aire libre que se extendió por toda la avenida de los Campos Elíseos.
700.000 almas, resistiendo sin techo, sin paredes. ¡Solo fe, devoción y alegría!
El mismo lugar donde la Revolución quiso "decapitar" a Dios, hoy estuvo lleno de rosarios, de banderas del Vaticano y de gente llorando de rodillas.
Hoy París no fue la capital de la moda, fue la capital de la fe.
Si estuvieras ahí, ¿qué le habrías pedido a Dios?
🙌
The left: Men need to open up about their feelings & communicate more
Men: I'm worried about immigration. Stressed about finding a job. I would like a wife who's nurturing and wants to be a mom. I —
The left: