William Prasher

Attorney Baylor fan Texas tech fan

[Ian Fitzsimmons @Ianfitzespn]

In response to the Brendan Sorsby ruling today I just had one coach reach out to me and posed this question. “What is going to stop schools from signing an NFL player that just got cut in camp? It’s against NCAA rules but local courts have proven they re-write the rule book now.”

[College Sports Only @CSOonX]

Forget being able to play this season, Brendan Sorsby's on Cloud 9 right now b/c he placed a $100,000 bet on Kalshi that he'd win the injunction.

[#24 North Texas - KU Ball Knower @Angry_UNT_Fan]

Pretentious European soccer fans complaining about the US hosting the World Cup are coming up against toxic College Football burner accounts and it isn’t going well for them lol

[Frank Luntz @FrankLuntz]

Social Security needs reform, but neither party is willing to take the lead on doing so.

If we continue doing nothing, Social Security payouts will be cut automatically by 24% in 2032… That’s only two presidential elections away.

👉🏻 https://t.co/QhU4UVYd6c

[Pulp Librarian @PulpLibrarian]

Zero Hour! (1957). "Our survival hinges on one thing - finding someone who not only can fly this plane, but didn't have fish for dinner!"

Troubled wartime pilot Ted Stryker must land a stricken passenger plane as the pilots and half the passengers have eaten poisoned fish. With his estranged wife Ellen as his copilot, and his angry former commanding officer Captain Treleaven in the control tower, can Stryker conquer his demons and land that plane?

Jerry Zucker, Jim Abrahams and David Zucker wisely bought the rights to Zero Hour! before they made Airplane! (1980) as they do borrow much of the dialogue, plot and characters. That said, the 1957 film is still a fine melodrama. "Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit smoking."

[Crazy Vibes @CrazyVibes_1]

When the President of France visited the United States in April 1960, he asked the FBI to help him find a man.
The man he was looking for was an American citizen. He was sixty-four years old. He had been awarded fifteen French military decorations and — six months earlier, in a ceremony in Paris — had been made a Knight of the Légion d'honneur, the highest civilian honor France can give. The medal had been pinned to his chest by the President himself, who had publicly called him un véritable héros français. A true French hero.
The FBI located the man within a few days.
He was operating an elevator at Rockefeller Center in New York City.
The elevator operator's name was Eugene Bullard. He had been born in Columbus, Georgia, in 1895, the son of a man whose own father had been a slave.

He had run away from Columbus at the age of eleven, after watching a white mob nearly lynch his father.
He spent the next several years drifting through the American South. At sixteen, he stowed away on a German freighter at Norfolk, Virginia. He landed in Aberdeen, Scotland. From there he made his way to London, where he learned to box. By 1913, at eighteen, he was prizefighting in Paris.
When Germany invaded France in August 1914, Bullard was nineteen years old. He had no legal obligation to fight. He had no French citizenship.
He went to the recruiting office on October 19, 1914, and signed up for the French Foreign Legion.
He spent the next eighteen months as an infantryman in some of the worst fighting of the war — at the Somme, at Champagne, at Verdun. He was wounded three times. The third wound, on March 5, 1916, tore open his thigh and left him with permanent damage to his leg.
He was twenty years old. The doctors told him he would not return to the infantry.
He decided he wanted to fly.

In a Paris café in the spring of 1916, while he was recovering, Bullard mentioned to three white American friends that he was thinking of joining the French air service. A Mississippian named Jeff Dickson laughed.
Gene, Dickson said, you know damn well there aren't any Negroes in aviation.
Bullard answered: Sure do. That's why I want to get into it. There has to be a first to everything, and I'm going to be the first.
Dickson bet him two thousand dollars he would not make it.
Bullard took the bet. He earned his pilot's license on May 5, 1917. He won the bet.
He reported to the front in August 1917 and flew approximately twenty combat missions over the next three months in a SPAD VII. The fuselage was painted with a bleeding heart pierced by a knife and the French phrase Tout le Sang qui Coule est Rouge — All Blood that Flows is Red.
He carried, on every combat flight, a small capuchin monkey named Jimmy in the front of his flight jacket.
The French press began calling him L'Hirondelle Noire — the Black Swallow.

When the United States entered the war in 1917, Bullard immediately applied to transfer to the U.S. Army Air Service.
His application was rejected.
The U.S. Army Air Service had a policy, in 1917, of not accepting Black pilots. The other American pilots flying for France in his unit, all of them white, were transferred to the U.S. Air Service.
He was the only one who was not.

For the next twenty years, he was one of the most familiar faces in the Montmartre nightlife of Paris between the wars. He owned a nightclub called L'Escadrille. He spoke fluent French, English, and German. Hemingway drank there. Fitzgerald drank there. Langston Hughes drank there. Josephine Baker performed there. Louis Armstrong was a personal friend.
When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, Bullard was forty-four. His fluent German and his ownership of a nightclub frequented by German officers made him useful to the French Resistance. He became an intelligence agent — eavesdropping in his own bar on conversations between German officers who did not know he understood every word.
When France fell in June 1940, friends in the Resistance smuggled him across the Spanish border before the Gestapo could arrest him.
He came back to the United States for the first time in twenty-eight years.
He arrived in New York with thirty dollars in his pocket and a permanent limp.

He did not return to a hero's welcome. He returned to a country that had no idea who he was.
He worked at a perfume counter. He worked as a security guard. He worked at the Staten Island shipyards. By the late 1940s, he had taken the job that he would hold for most of the rest of his life.
He operated the elevator at Rockefeller Center.
He was wearing the elevator uniform on the day a producer from NBC came down from the studios upstairs to ask if he was the man Charles de Gaulle had been looking for.
A few weeks later, NBC sent a film crew to interview him in the lobby. The studios where NBC produced The Today Show were on the floors above. He had operated the elevator that took the network executives up to those studios every morning for nearly ten years. He had not been recognized as he did it.
He went back to operating the elevator the following Monday.

He died of stomach cancer on October 12, 1961, three days after his sixty-sixth birthday.
He was buried in the French War Veterans' section of Flushing Cemetery, in Queens, in the uniform of the French Foreign Legion. The casket was draped with the French flag.
In 1994 — thirty-three years after his death — the United States Air Force formally commissioned Eugene Jacques Bullard as a Second Lieutenant, posthumously.
It was the first commission the U.S. military had ever offered him.
He had been the first Black combat pilot in American history.
The French had been calling him a hero since 1917.
The Americans got around to it in 1994.

[Mike Bales 🫡🇺🇸 @MikeBales]

A man goes to church one Sunday to sing and give praises to God. When he returns home, he lifts his wife up, then lets her down after some time.

The wife, with all smiles and blushes, says to him, “You really showed that you love me today; you should go to church more often.” She then asks, “What happened at church today?”

The man simply replies, “The pastor said that when we get home, we should lift up our problems to God.”

[Massimo @Rainmaker1973]

Roman numbers

[Old School Eddie @Old_SchoolEddie]

In a Roman grave near Frankfurt, Germany, archaeologists found a small silver amulet from around 230 to 270 AD.

This tiny capsule, only about 3.5 centimeters long, held a thin silver foil with 18 lines of Latin text.

It is the oldest known evidence of Christian faith north of the Alps.

The man buried there wore this amulet around his neck until the end.

Modern scans revealed the inscription, which speaks of Saint Titus, declares "Holy, holy, holy," and confesses faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

It shows a clear devotion to the Lord in a time when Christians often faced danger.

This discovery reminds us how the good news of Jesus spread even in the early days of the church, far from the places we usually read about in Scripture.

As the Apostle Paul wrote in Acts, the word of the Lord grew and multiplied despite trials.

Here was a believer holding fast to his faith, perhaps drawing strength from verses like Revelation 4:8, where heavenly beings cry, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty."

Friends, this amulet from nearly 1,800 years ago stands as quiet proof of lives changed by Christ.

It calls us to remember that our Savior reaches hearts in every age and place.

Let it encourage us to walk faithfully, just as that early believer did, trusting in the grace of God through Jesus.

May we too confess Him boldly in our own time.

[NancyH @NancyH_60]

Nobody woke up today wanting to be a husband… 😂
Welcome to the married people meeting! Steve Treviño hits the nail on the head with this one. No man ever said, ‘You know what? I’m tired of making my own decisions. I want to be questioned about everything I do!’
From the parking spot drama to ‘Why did you park there?!’ — we’ve all been there. It’s not an anger problem… it’s a wife problem!
Tag your husband (or that one friend who parks like a pro until she pulls up) and laugh along. Marriage is wild, y’all! Who’s relating?

[☧ Today in Christian History @HistoricalRook]

#OTD June 7, 1891:
Charles H. Spurgeon, the renowned English Baptist preacher who regularly drew around 6,000 people to his services, delivered his final sermon at the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London. In it he declared:
“Those who have no master are slaves to themselves. Depend upon it, you will either serve Satan or Christ, either self or the Saviour. You will find sin, self, Satan, and the world to be hard masters; but if you wear the livery of Christ, you will find him so meek and lowly of heart that you will find rest unto your souls. He is the most magnanimous of captains.”

[Dovi Safier @safier]

“It was one of the most monumentally unselfish things one group of people did for another.”

-#DDay veteran Andy Rooney on the young 🇺🇸 🇨🇦 🇬🇧 soldiers who stormed the beaches of Normandy 82 years ago.

Required watching for every young person today!

[cinesthetic. @TheCinesthetic]

Still one of the greatest deaths ever put on cinema. The moment the music swells, chills every single time.

[Patton @GeneralPatton83]

Tastes like childhood

[Salman @SalmanGreen]

Problem Solved….