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"that's it boy ... work your Dad." 🥵 😈 #JackAllen #White #Dominance #Power #interracial #black #inferior #sub #slave #masterandhisboy #jackandhisboy #dad #son #dom #rp #raceplay #gay #gaymen #daddy #boy

MASTER Jack and HIS boy 🐒

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36,848 次观看 • 1 年前 •via X (Twitter)

NSFW #JackAllen #White #Dominance #Power #interracial #black #inferior #sub #slave #masterandhisboy #jackandhisboy #dad #son #dom #rp #raceplay #gay #gaymen #daddy #boy

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Bred MY SUPERIOR LOAD into MY ni66er D after it was commanded to take another Superior's White Seed. I'll save the longer clip for the paywall. 🤑😈 #raceplay #interracial #whitedom #blacksub #gay #gaymen #masterandhisboy #daddy #white #black

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Bred MY SUPERIOR LOAD into MY ni66er D after it was commanded to take another Superior's White Seed. I'll save the longer clip for the paywall. 🤑😈 #raceplay #interracial #whitedom #blacksub #gay #gaymen #masterandhisboy #daddy #white #black

MASTER Jack and HIS boy 🐒

18,802 次观看 • 1 年前

An old man's simple, timeless wisdom on raising kids: His little boy runs up: "Daddy, a wheel came off my toy car." Dad tosses the wheel in the trash and goes back to his magazine. Boy's lip quivers. Tears start. Dad: "What's wrong?" Boy: "You throwed it away." Dad: "I'll get you baby toys where the wheels don't come off." Boy: "Maybe I can fix it." Dad hands it back. Two minutes later, the boy has it back together. Dad: "How did you do that?" Boy proudly explains: "See the hole? See the piece of iron? I put the hole on and pushed." Dad: "That's wonderful." The lesson he leaves us with: Every time you solve your child's problem for them, you produce a "blob." You rob them of the chance to grow competence, confidence, and pride in their own ability. Let them struggle. Let them fail small. Let them figure it out. That's how you raise capable humans. Pure gold from a grandfather who gets it. Who in your life gave you space to fix something yourself—and changed how you see challenges forever? Drop your story below.

An old man's simple, timeless wisdom on raising kids: His little boy runs up: "Daddy, a wheel came off my toy car." Dad tosses the wheel in the trash and goes back to his magazine. Boy's lip quivers. Tears start. Dad: "What's wrong?" Boy: "You throwed it away." Dad: "I'll get you baby toys where the wheels don't come off." Boy: "Maybe I can fix it." Dad hands it back. Two minutes later, the boy has it back together. Dad: "How did you do that?" Boy proudly explains: "See the hole? See the piece of iron? I put the hole on and pushed." Dad: "That's wonderful." The lesson he leaves us with: Every time you solve your child's problem for them, you produce a "blob." You rob them of the chance to grow competence, confidence, and pride in their own ability. Let them struggle. Let them fail small. Let them figure it out. That's how you raise capable humans. Pure gold from a grandfather who gets it. Who in your life gave you space to fix something yourself—and changed how you see challenges forever? Drop your story below.

Camus

126,494 次观看 • 8 个月前

🚨#BREAKING: The Black community is outraged and calling for a White father in Florida to be JAILED after the father pulled a GUN on two Black teens at a BUS STOP because they were bullying his son. This happened in Indiantown, Florida. It started on September 17th, a 16-year-old White boy got on the school bus carrying a pizza. A 14-year-old Black boy got on after him and started in on him, demanding the pizza, even threatening him. And when the kid wouldn't hand it over... the 14-year-old HIT HIM IN THE HEAD!!! Over pizza. So that boy did what we tell our kids to do, he told his dad. So the dad went to the BUS STOP and talked to the BUS DRIVER and she told him she'd try to take care of it. The next morning, the father drove his son to the bus stop himself and the kid who'd hit his son was already on that bus. As his son boarded, the dad started talking to the driver again. And that's when the 14-year-old got OFF the bus to confront a grown man. Then it got worse. The sheriff says other students on that bus started CALLING PEOPLE to come to the scene. Another 16-year-old, who had been SUSPENDED, showed up. And those two teens walked up on that father, yelling. He put his hand up and he told them to stay back. In the sheriff's words, "they got all the way up on him before he pulled out a concealed weapon and told them get back, which he's legally allowed to do." "He's legally allowed to stand his ground." The teens backed off, nobody was hurt, not a shot fired. The dad then drove around the corner, FLAGGED DOWN A DEPUTY himself, and told him exactly what had just happened. The Black community is now calling for the father to be PUT IN PRISON for ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON and called him racist.

🚨#BREAKING: The Black community is outraged and calling for a White father in Florida to be JAILED after the father pulled a GUN on two Black teens at a BUS STOP because they were bullying his son. This happened in Indiantown, Florida. It started on September 17th, a 16-year-old White boy got on the school bus carrying a pizza. A 14-year-old Black boy got on after him and started in on him, demanding the pizza, even threatening him. And when the kid wouldn't hand it over... the 14-year-old HIT HIM IN THE HEAD!!! Over pizza. So that boy did what we tell our kids to do, he told his dad. So the dad went to the BUS STOP and talked to the BUS DRIVER and she told him she'd try to take care of it. The next morning, the father drove his son to the bus stop himself and the kid who'd hit his son was already on that bus. As his son boarded, the dad started talking to the driver again. And that's when the 14-year-old got OFF the bus to confront a grown man. Then it got worse. The sheriff says other students on that bus started CALLING PEOPLE to come to the scene. Another 16-year-old, who had been SUSPENDED, showed up. And those two teens walked up on that father, yelling. He put his hand up and he told them to stay back. In the sheriff's words, "they got all the way up on him before he pulled out a concealed weapon and told them get back, which he's legally allowed to do." "He's legally allowed to stand his ground." The teens backed off, nobody was hurt, not a shot fired. The dad then drove around the corner, FLAGGED DOWN A DEPUTY himself, and told him exactly what had just happened. The Black community is now calling for the father to be PUT IN PRISON for ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON and called him racist.

Matt Van Swol

1,302,119 次观看 • 7 天前

WTF is going on in Indiantown, Florida. So let me get this straight. The son was getting bullied, so dad drove him to the bus stop. Dad is talking to the bus driver about the black kids who were jumping on his boy. Then the black kids hop off the bus and walk up on a grown man like they’re some big bad thugs. Usual Suspects. Acting hard. Talking tough. Until they got checked real quick. Dad told them to stay back. They kept coming. He pulled a legal gun and they suddenly remembered they weren’t invincible. Nobody got shot. Nobody even got touched. Then dad drove around the corner, flagged down a deputy himself, and told the truth. Sheriff said he was the victim. Stand your ground. Legal carry. No charges. He didn’t even want to press charges on the kids who started it. And now the usual suspects are playing victim because a gun got pulled on them after they started the mess. They want that dad locked up. You start shit at a bus stop, square up on somebody’s father, then cry racism when you get checked? Yeah. That’s the part that doesn’t add up.

WTF is going on in Indiantown, Florida. So let me get this straight. The son was getting bullied, so dad drove him to the bus stop. Dad is talking to the bus driver about the black kids who were jumping on his boy. Then the black kids hop off the bus and walk up on a grown man like they’re some big bad thugs. Usual Suspects. Acting hard. Talking tough. Until they got checked real quick. Dad told them to stay back. They kept coming. He pulled a legal gun and they suddenly remembered they weren’t invincible. Nobody got shot. Nobody even got touched. Then dad drove around the corner, flagged down a deputy himself, and told the truth. Sheriff said he was the victim. Stand your ground. Legal carry. No charges. He didn’t even want to press charges on the kids who started it. And now the usual suspects are playing victim because a gun got pulled on them after they started the mess. They want that dad locked up. You start shit at a bus stop, square up on somebody’s father, then cry racism when you get checked? Yeah. That’s the part that doesn’t add up.

Arkadalo®

1,976,369 次观看 • 7 天前

WTF is going on in Indiantown, Florida. So let me get this straight. The son was getting bullied, so dad drove him to the bus stop. Dad is talking to the bus driver about the black kids who were jumping on his boy. Then the black kids hop off the bus and walk up on a grown man like they’re some big bad thugs. Usual Suspects. Acting hard. Talking tough. Until they got checked real quick. Dad told them to stay back. They kept coming. He pulled a legal gun and they suddenly remembered they weren’t invincible. Nobody got shot. Nobody even got touched. Then dad drove around the corner, flagged down a deputy himself, and told the truth. Sheriff said he was the victim. Stand your ground. Legal carry. No charges. He didn’t even want to press charges on the kids who started it. And now the usual suspects are playing victim because a gun got pulled on them after they started the mess. They want that dad locked up. You start shit at a bus stop, square up on somebody’s father, then cry racism when you get checked? Yeah. That’s the part that doesn’t add up.

WTF is going on in Indiantown, Florida. So let me get this straight. The son was getting bullied, so dad drove him to the bus stop. Dad is talking to the bus driver about the black kids who were jumping on his boy. Then the black kids hop off the bus and walk up on a grown man like they’re some big bad thugs. Usual Suspects. Acting hard. Talking tough. Until they got checked real quick. Dad told them to stay back. They kept coming. He pulled a legal gun and they suddenly remembered they weren’t invincible. Nobody got shot. Nobody even got touched. Then dad drove around the corner, flagged down a deputy himself, and told the truth. Sheriff said he was the victim. Stand your ground. Legal carry. No charges. He didn’t even want to press charges on the kids who started it. And now the usual suspects are playing victim because a gun got pulled on them after they started the mess. They want that dad locked up. You start shit at a bus stop, square up on somebody’s father, then cry racism when you get checked? Yeah. That’s the part that doesn’t add up.

John F. Kennedy Jr Q

13,829 次观看 • 6 天前

🇲🇽❤️ This little boy just melted the internet — and every dad’s heart. For a whole year, he saved every single peso from his allowance. No toys. No candy. No games. Just one mission burning in his little heart: buy his dad the authentic Mexican National Team soccer jersey he’d been wanting forever. When Father’s Day finally arrived, he walked up with the biggest surprise of his dad’s life. “Dad? Close your eyes…” His dad obeyed, smiling, probably expecting a handmade card or a hug. Instead, he opened his eyes to the real deal — the official green jersey with the eagle, the Aztec patterns, the quality stitching that only true fans recognize. His reaction says everything: “No freaking way… Oh my god. I’ve been wanting one of these. Is this the real one?” “Yeah.” “Where did you get $100, bro?” “From my allowance. I saved it since last year… because I know you’re the best dad. Do you like your gift?” Tears. Hugs. The kind of moment that makes time stand still. This isn’t just a jersey. It’s a year of skipped treats. It’s quiet sacrifice. It’s a little boy saying “I see how hard you work for us… and I wanted to give something back.” In a world obsessed with big flashy gifts, this child reminded us that the most powerful ones come from small hands and enormous love. To every dad grinding every day so their kids can dream bigger — and to every kid who notices: You are the real MVPs. To the heroes who wear the jersey of fatherhood with pride every single day. ⚽🇲🇽 Tag your dad or your son right now. Let them know they’re loved like this. ❤️ What’s the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever given or received from family? Tell us below 👇 #Heartwarming #FatherSonBond #MexicanPride #ElTri #AuthenticJersey #ViralLove #BestDadEver #PureLove

🇲🇽❤️ This little boy just melted the internet — and every dad’s heart. For a whole year, he saved every single peso from his allowance. No toys. No candy. No games. Just one mission burning in his little heart: buy his dad the authentic Mexican National Team soccer jersey he’d been wanting forever. When Father’s Day finally arrived, he walked up with the biggest surprise of his dad’s life. “Dad? Close your eyes…” His dad obeyed, smiling, probably expecting a handmade card or a hug. Instead, he opened his eyes to the real deal — the official green jersey with the eagle, the Aztec patterns, the quality stitching that only true fans recognize. His reaction says everything: “No freaking way… Oh my god. I’ve been wanting one of these. Is this the real one?” “Yeah.” “Where did you get $100, bro?” “From my allowance. I saved it since last year… because I know you’re the best dad. Do you like your gift?” Tears. Hugs. The kind of moment that makes time stand still. This isn’t just a jersey. It’s a year of skipped treats. It’s quiet sacrifice. It’s a little boy saying “I see how hard you work for us… and I wanted to give something back.” In a world obsessed with big flashy gifts, this child reminded us that the most powerful ones come from small hands and enormous love. To every dad grinding every day so their kids can dream bigger — and to every kid who notices: You are the real MVPs. To the heroes who wear the jersey of fatherhood with pride every single day. ⚽🇲🇽 Tag your dad or your son right now. Let them know they’re loved like this. ❤️ What’s the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever given or received from family? Tell us below 👇 #Heartwarming #FatherSonBond #MexicanPride #ElTri #AuthenticJersey #ViralLove #BestDadEver #PureLove

ℳ𝒜𝒢𝒜_𝒳_𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒟𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝓈🇺🇸

11,854 次观看 • 2 个月前

🚨WOW!!! A 12-year-old boy in Washington was attacked by a BLACK BEAR in his own backyard... ...and he fought back with his BARE HANDS until his dad could get to him. He survived and said, "it was either fight or die, if you fight you have a better chance, so FIGHT!" His name is Robin Westgate, from Bellingham, Washington. On Sunday night, Sept. 13, Robin finished dinner with his family and ran out to the backyard fruit orchard to grab a popcorn bowl. That's when he and the bear startled each other. "It was fight or die. I didn't really have an option." She charged him. TWICE. She clawed his side, left puncture wounds on his hip, and bit down on his wrist. But Robin knew exactly what to do. Bears are common in his neighborhood, and he had been TAUGHT what to do if he ever met one: "If you fight, you have a better chance, so fight." So he fought. He punched. He screamed. And he drove his thumb straight into the bear's eye. Then his dad Noah came running. The bear turned and charged a THIRD time, this time at Dad. Noah says it was actually a relief to have her coming at him instead of his son. 😭 He went into what he calls "code red" mode, protecting his boy the same way that mama bear was protecting her cub. "She crunches into my hand right at the moment I land the hardest punch of my life." And the bear RAN. His little sister, Riverley heard her big brother screaming and ran for help. Robin and his dad were both treated at the hospital and sent home. And Robin's takeaway is that he says the danger from the bears hasn't changed. The only thing that changed is that now he knows he can trust himself. Dad says he's a proud papa. He should be. What an incredible kid. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

🚨WOW!!! A 12-year-old boy in Washington was attacked by a BLACK BEAR in his own backyard... ...and he fought back with his BARE HANDS until his dad could get to him. He survived and said, "it was either fight or die, if you fight you have a better chance, so FIGHT!" His name is Robin Westgate, from Bellingham, Washington. On Sunday night, Sept. 13, Robin finished dinner with his family and ran out to the backyard fruit orchard to grab a popcorn bowl. That's when he and the bear startled each other. "It was fight or die. I didn't really have an option." She charged him. TWICE. She clawed his side, left puncture wounds on his hip, and bit down on his wrist. But Robin knew exactly what to do. Bears are common in his neighborhood, and he had been TAUGHT what to do if he ever met one: "If you fight, you have a better chance, so fight." So he fought. He punched. He screamed. And he drove his thumb straight into the bear's eye. Then his dad Noah came running. The bear turned and charged a THIRD time, this time at Dad. Noah says it was actually a relief to have her coming at him instead of his son. 😭 He went into what he calls "code red" mode, protecting his boy the same way that mama bear was protecting her cub. "She crunches into my hand right at the moment I land the hardest punch of my life." And the bear RAN. His little sister, Riverley heard her big brother screaming and ran for help. Robin and his dad were both treated at the hospital and sent home. And Robin's takeaway is that he says the danger from the bears hasn't changed. The only thing that changed is that now he knows he can trust himself. Dad says he's a proud papa. He should be. What an incredible kid. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

Matt Van Swol

56,617 次观看 • 5 天前

Matthew McConaughey reveals the three words his dad said that changed his life “I said dad, I don't want to go to law school anymore. I want to go to film school and after about a 5 second pause, he goes, ‘Are you sure that's what you want to do?’ I reply yes sir” “Another long pause. Then I hear, ‘Well, don't halfass it’” “I remember just beaming, hopping up just like Yes! My dad not only said okay. The way he said don't halfass it, it was also, okay. Let's go big boy. Own that shit. Get some leverage. Get some horsepower behind where you're going. Go do it” “I remember to this day and I've learned this later I think from becoming a father, part of what I believe happened to him and why he said that to me that way on that call was the way that I asked him. I wasn't really asking. It was, ‘I don't want to go to law school, Dad. I want to go to film school.’ I didn't stutter. He heard his son saying this is what I want to do” “What I think happened to him in that moment is what I think any father, any parent loves. You raise your kids in a certain way and you give them a guideline, a ladder to climb and here's the guidelines and if you do it this way, you're most likely going to have some success in life and it'll work out for you and then when we do it that way, we can be proud parents” “But what do we really want to happen when our kids are out of the house and they're on their own? We kind of want them to call one day and go, ‘I'm breaking out. I'm going my own way.’ And as a parent, we go, as much as it may scare us, we're going, ‘Yes!’ I gave my kid the confidence and the courage and the foundation to say they're going to go their own way” “In a way, I think every parent honors and loves that moment. I heard my dad, when he didn't hear me stutter, when he heard me directly say what I said. I wasn't really asking him. Even though I was out of respect asking him, the way I said it, I wasn't asking him and I think he felt that” “Don't halfass it”

Matthew McConaughey reveals the three words his dad said that changed his life “I said dad, I don't want to go to law school anymore. I want to go to film school and after about a 5 second pause, he goes, ‘Are you sure that's what you want to do?’ I reply yes sir” “Another long pause. Then I hear, ‘Well, don't halfass it’” “I remember just beaming, hopping up just like Yes! My dad not only said okay. The way he said don't halfass it, it was also, okay. Let's go big boy. Own that shit. Get some leverage. Get some horsepower behind where you're going. Go do it” “I remember to this day and I've learned this later I think from becoming a father, part of what I believe happened to him and why he said that to me that way on that call was the way that I asked him. I wasn't really asking. It was, ‘I don't want to go to law school, Dad. I want to go to film school.’ I didn't stutter. He heard his son saying this is what I want to do” “What I think happened to him in that moment is what I think any father, any parent loves. You raise your kids in a certain way and you give them a guideline, a ladder to climb and here's the guidelines and if you do it this way, you're most likely going to have some success in life and it'll work out for you and then when we do it that way, we can be proud parents” “But what do we really want to happen when our kids are out of the house and they're on their own? We kind of want them to call one day and go, ‘I'm breaking out. I'm going my own way.’ And as a parent, we go, as much as it may scare us, we're going, ‘Yes!’ I gave my kid the confidence and the courage and the foundation to say they're going to go their own way” “In a way, I think every parent honors and loves that moment. I heard my dad, when he didn't hear me stutter, when he heard me directly say what I said. I wasn't really asking him. Even though I was out of respect asking him, the way I said it, I wasn't asking him and I think he felt that” “Don't halfass it”

Jack

1,184,527 次观看 • 4 个月前

Couldn’t sleep so here I am scrolling through Friday’s footage from — and I keep coming back to this little guy. Born this week. First time mama did an absolutely beautiful job. And this calf — almost grey, almost purple. Stunning. Haven’t had one come out that color before and I’ll be honest, I stood there for a minute just taking it in. Here’s what’s actually happening with that color. Mama is a black Longhorn. Dad is a Charolais bull. Charolais carry a dominant dilution gene — one copy is enough to override the black coat and turn it smoky grey. Two copies gives you the full creamy white you see in a pure Charolais. This calf got one copy from dad, so he landed right in the middle. Diluted black. That smoky, almost purple grey you’re seeing in these photos. This is exactly why we cross Longhorns with Charolais. Longhorns bring the hardiness, the calving ease, the foraging ability. Charolais bring the frame, the muscle, the growth. Put them together and you get hybrid vigor, solid marketable calves, and apparently — every now and then — something that stops you cold in the middle of a Friday morning. He’s a boy. No name yet. Keep an eye out tomorrow — we’re running a giveaway for the best name. Start thinking. Your rancher, Jason Hanley | 208-714-0478 Satoshi

Couldn’t sleep so here I am scrolling through Friday’s footage from — and I keep coming back to this little guy. Born this week. First time mama did an absolutely beautiful job. And this calf — almost grey, almost purple. Stunning. Haven’t had one come out that color before and I’ll be honest, I stood there for a minute just taking it in. Here’s what’s actually happening with that color. Mama is a black Longhorn. Dad is a Charolais bull. Charolais carry a dominant dilution gene — one copy is enough to override the black coat and turn it smoky grey. Two copies gives you the full creamy white you see in a pure Charolais. This calf got one copy from dad, so he landed right in the middle. Diluted black. That smoky, almost purple grey you’re seeing in these photos. This is exactly why we cross Longhorns with Charolais. Longhorns bring the hardiness, the calving ease, the foraging ability. Charolais bring the frame, the muscle, the growth. Put them together and you get hybrid vigor, solid marketable calves, and apparently — every now and then — something that stops you cold in the middle of a Friday morning. He’s a boy. No name yet. Keep an eye out tomorrow — we’re running a giveaway for the best name. Start thinking. Your rancher, Jason Hanley | 208-714-0478 Satoshi

AcmeAcres.us

16,060 次观看 • 5 个月前

🚨WOW!!!! A Vietnam vet gave up his dream car, a '69 Mustang Mach 1, to raise his 6 sons. He never let them see what it cost him. 50 years later, his youngest traded away his OWN Mustang to track down the exact car... and handed his dad the keys on Father's Day. His name is Daniel Allen and he came home from the Vietnam war and bought his dream car. It was a white 1969 Mustang Mach 1. Black hood, red stripes, four-speed. And then he gave it up. Because one baby became two. Then three. Then six sons. And a two-door muscle car can't raise a family. So Daniel traded away his dream, the way good fathers do. He never made his boys feel the cost of it. But his youngest son, Shane, was always listening. Every time his dad told the story of "the one that got away," it stuck. The two of them even made a tradition of it, going to Father's Day car shows together, hunting for Mustangs, reminiscing. So this year, Shane found it. A white '69 Mach 1, exactly like the one his father described for decades. He traded away his OWN restored Mustang GT to get it, then had it repainted and reupholstered to match his dad's memory down to the detail. And to get it, he traded away his OWN restored Mustang. On Father's Day, at their car show, Daniel walked past a Mach 1 and noticed a name tag hanging from the mirror that read "Daniel." He figured it was a coincidence. Half-joking, he said, "Where are my keys?" His son reached out and put the keys in his hand and told him to fire it up. This grown man. This veteran. He climbed out of that car, asked his son how on earth he'd pulled it off, and when Shane told him he'd traded his own custom Mustang to do it... ...Daniel broke down and wrapped his boy in his arms. Fifty years later, the dream he laid down for his kids... his kid handed right back to him. God bless the Allen family. That's what it's all about.

🚨WOW!!!! A Vietnam vet gave up his dream car, a '69 Mustang Mach 1, to raise his 6 sons. He never let them see what it cost him. 50 years later, his youngest traded away his OWN Mustang to track down the exact car... and handed his dad the keys on Father's Day. His name is Daniel Allen and he came home from the Vietnam war and bought his dream car. It was a white 1969 Mustang Mach 1. Black hood, red stripes, four-speed. And then he gave it up. Because one baby became two. Then three. Then six sons. And a two-door muscle car can't raise a family. So Daniel traded away his dream, the way good fathers do. He never made his boys feel the cost of it. But his youngest son, Shane, was always listening. Every time his dad told the story of "the one that got away," it stuck. The two of them even made a tradition of it, going to Father's Day car shows together, hunting for Mustangs, reminiscing. So this year, Shane found it. A white '69 Mach 1, exactly like the one his father described for decades. He traded away his OWN restored Mustang GT to get it, then had it repainted and reupholstered to match his dad's memory down to the detail. And to get it, he traded away his OWN restored Mustang. On Father's Day, at their car show, Daniel walked past a Mach 1 and noticed a name tag hanging from the mirror that read "Daniel." He figured it was a coincidence. Half-joking, he said, "Where are my keys?" His son reached out and put the keys in his hand and told him to fire it up. This grown man. This veteran. He climbed out of that car, asked his son how on earth he'd pulled it off, and when Shane told him he'd traded his own custom Mustang to do it... ...Daniel broke down and wrapped his boy in his arms. Fifty years later, the dream he laid down for his kids... his kid handed right back to him. God bless the Allen family. That's what it's all about.

Matt Van Swol

710,285 次观看 • 2 个月前

This father had never missed any of his son’s baseball games in his life. He had to miss this tournament because his best friend was getting married and he was a groomsman. He woke up at 3:30AM and drove 100 MPH that Sunday morning to try to and at least make the Sunday games after missing the Saturdays games. And, of course this was the only tournament all year that his son’s team lost their first game on Sunday, so he didn't make it in time because the first game was at 8 and there was no second game. When he pulled up his son saw him and he ran full speed and jumped into his arms and wouldn’t let go. Dad said his son told him, “daddy, you can’t ever miss again. I love you so much. Not having you with me this weekend made me feel so empty, please never miss again, I'm so thankful your my daddy!” 🥹 His wife filmed that video. ❤️ I remember those days well. Speeding like a bat out of hell to make it on time. I have always made my kid’s games and activities. It’s what I live for. And the few times I had to miss, I felt like I let them down. What a great father he is. That boy is fortunate. 💯 Do you remember this feeling? Trying your hardest to make it to one of their activities and just feeling sad that you couldn’t be there?

This father had never missed any of his son’s baseball games in his life. He had to miss this tournament because his best friend was getting married and he was a groomsman. He woke up at 3:30AM and drove 100 MPH that Sunday morning to try to and at least make the Sunday games after missing the Saturdays games. And, of course this was the only tournament all year that his son’s team lost their first game on Sunday, so he didn't make it in time because the first game was at 8 and there was no second game. When he pulled up his son saw him and he ran full speed and jumped into his arms and wouldn’t let go. Dad said his son told him, “daddy, you can’t ever miss again. I love you so much. Not having you with me this weekend made me feel so empty, please never miss again, I'm so thankful your my daddy!” 🥹 His wife filmed that video. ❤️ I remember those days well. Speeding like a bat out of hell to make it on time. I have always made my kid’s games and activities. It’s what I live for. And the few times I had to miss, I felt like I let them down. What a great father he is. That boy is fortunate. 💯 Do you remember this feeling? Trying your hardest to make it to one of their activities and just feeling sad that you couldn’t be there?

👉M-Û-R-Č-H👈

1,770,143 次观看 • 4 个月前

My son, One day, when you're older, you will come across this post and this video of the two of us walking up into the mountains. I hope you watch it more than once. We always begin the same way. You go bounding off ahead, certain the whole mountain belongs to you, and for a little while it does. Then the path gets steep. The air gets thinner and your legs get tired. You stop, you turn, and you look back at me and say: Dad, is the view really worth it? I will tell you a secret. I ask myself the same question. I'm climbing my own mountains you can't see yet, fighting things I hope you never have to fight, and some days the weight of it all feels like more than I can carry. Mom and I both put on a brave face, but it isn't always brave underneath. There are mornings I feel I am carrying the whole mountain rather than walking up it. But that's not a flaw in you or me, it just is what the journey is. You will meet climbs that burn your legs, there will be days when every step asks more than you think you have, and there will be MANY MANY times when turning back seems the only sensible thing thing to do ...don't be ashamed of wanting to. Everyone wants to turn back. But WANTING to turn back, and not doing it... well my son, that is the stuff strength is made of. There will be days when everything feels uphill. When the world feels unfair, and you’ll wonder why it has to be so hard. The summit will never stoop to meet you and the path cannot be talked into being shorter. What changes... what is changing in you even now while you're reading this, and especially on days that feel like nothing but insane amount of work and heartache... ...is YOU. You are the thing that grows. The world stays gloriously, stubbornly large, and you rise to meet it. So climb. Not because it is easy, but because you were made for the climbing. And when at last you stand in the high place with the wind in your face and the whole green country spread beneath you, you will understand something that cannot be told to a man but only shown to him: that every aching step was a kind of payment, and the view was the thing it had been buying all along. It will not feel like a reward. It will feel like coming home to a country you have never been to, and somehow always missed. I will be there. Lower on the trail by then, most likely. Slower. Catching my breath against a stone. But I will be watching you go up, and there will be no prouder man on the entire freaking mountain than me... the man who is proud of the boy who simply will not stop putting one foot in front of the other. Keep climbing, son. I am always on the trail. I love you, Dad

My son, One day, when you're older, you will come across this post and this video of the two of us walking up into the mountains. I hope you watch it more than once. We always begin the same way. You go bounding off ahead, certain the whole mountain belongs to you, and for a little while it does. Then the path gets steep. The air gets thinner and your legs get tired. You stop, you turn, and you look back at me and say: Dad, is the view really worth it? I will tell you a secret. I ask myself the same question. I'm climbing my own mountains you can't see yet, fighting things I hope you never have to fight, and some days the weight of it all feels like more than I can carry. Mom and I both put on a brave face, but it isn't always brave underneath. There are mornings I feel I am carrying the whole mountain rather than walking up it. But that's not a flaw in you or me, it just is what the journey is. You will meet climbs that burn your legs, there will be days when every step asks more than you think you have, and there will be MANY MANY times when turning back seems the only sensible thing thing to do ...don't be ashamed of wanting to. Everyone wants to turn back. But WANTING to turn back, and not doing it... well my son, that is the stuff strength is made of. There will be days when everything feels uphill. When the world feels unfair, and you’ll wonder why it has to be so hard. The summit will never stoop to meet you and the path cannot be talked into being shorter. What changes... what is changing in you even now while you're reading this, and especially on days that feel like nothing but insane amount of work and heartache... ...is YOU. You are the thing that grows. The world stays gloriously, stubbornly large, and you rise to meet it. So climb. Not because it is easy, but because you were made for the climbing. And when at last you stand in the high place with the wind in your face and the whole green country spread beneath you, you will understand something that cannot be told to a man but only shown to him: that every aching step was a kind of payment, and the view was the thing it had been buying all along. It will not feel like a reward. It will feel like coming home to a country you have never been to, and somehow always missed. I will be there. Lower on the trail by then, most likely. Slower. Catching my breath against a stone. But I will be watching you go up, and there will be no prouder man on the entire freaking mountain than me... the man who is proud of the boy who simply will not stop putting one foot in front of the other. Keep climbing, son. I am always on the trail. I love you, Dad

Matt Van Swol

54,786 次观看 • 3 个月前

WARNING: Emotional post (but worth reading or bookmarking for later). Time is cruel. But that cruelty carries the seeds of beauty. Last weekend, my family and I made our annual pilgrimage to a small community in northwest Connecticut. We started going when I was 18 months old. I met my two best friends there. I caught my first fish there. I had my first crush there. But perhaps most importantly, I played my first game of catch there. As I remember it, I was probably about five years old. My dad had a softball and a couple of old baseball gloves. And there, in the tall, overgrown grass, we threw the ball back and forth. As the years wore on, I got bigger and the ball started moving faster. We played catch damn near every single day when I was a kid. It didn't really matter what time of year or what time of day. We'd play catch in the snow in January. In the early morning light before school. In the dim light of the evenings when he got home from work. In high school, when I started getting college scholarship offers, we played catch. While on the team at Stanford, when my family went on vacation, we played catch. But then, my career ended. And with it, our game of catch. Time is a funny thing. Usually, it goes unnoticed. It exists, but not really. Only in some abstract sense. It flows under the surface. Adjacent to your reality, but not exactly in it. The routines of life make it go faster. You settle into patterns. Paths with gravity. You take a job. You establish a place. You start a family. The days start blending together. They become weeks, months, years, even decades. But then, something breaks. There's some collision. Suddenly, time gets thrust to the surface. Time goes unnoticed, until it's the only thing you notice. I've felt that most painfully with my parents. My dad is 70 now. In some ways, that 70-year-old version feels like a stranger to me. I think the image we have of our parents never really changes from the one we establish as kids. I still see my dad as the young, vibrant, athletic young man. The one who could hit the ball farther than anyone I knew. The one who could toss me up on his shoulders in a flash. The one who could beat me in a race (but usually let me win). I still see that young dad in his eyes, in his energy, in his curiosity for life. In some painful sense, I imagine the 70-year-old version feels like a stranger to him, too. Time is cruel. But that cruelty carries the seeds of beauty. The most beautiful things in life are made beautiful by their impermanence. So, what are we to do about all of this? Perhaps we must simply give in to time. Embrace its unending, relentless flow. Live as we are. Do as we can. But what if, in truth, we have a bit more power than that? What if it's possible, in some imperfect, impermanent way, to control time? To bend time and space. To really be there. To really feel it. To embrace it, without giving in to it. To live as we want. To do as we dream. That theory is what brings me back to last Sunday, when I felt compelled to unlock one of the old cabinets in my parent's cottage. It was a cabinet that, when opened, had the feel of a time capsule. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. A musty smell. Like reaching into it was reaching back in time. I pulled out my old baseball glove. And my dad's old catcher's mitt. I walked outside, where I found my dad playing with his grandsons on the swings. I held up the two gloves, a smile across my face. "Hey, Dad, wanna have a catch?" I smiled. He smiled. We walked side by side out onto the field. And there, in the tall, overgrown grass, we threw the ball back and forth. As we did, something amazing happened. Time melted away. 30 years disappeared. He wasn't 70. I wasn't 35. I was that little boy again. And he was my young dad. Just playing catch for no purpose at all. It was just a game of catch. But it was so much more.

WARNING: Emotional post (but worth reading or bookmarking for later). Time is cruel. But that cruelty carries the seeds of beauty. Last weekend, my family and I made our annual pilgrimage to a small community in northwest Connecticut. We started going when I was 18 months old. I met my two best friends there. I caught my first fish there. I had my first crush there. But perhaps most importantly, I played my first game of catch there. As I remember it, I was probably about five years old. My dad had a softball and a couple of old baseball gloves. And there, in the tall, overgrown grass, we threw the ball back and forth. As the years wore on, I got bigger and the ball started moving faster. We played catch damn near every single day when I was a kid. It didn't really matter what time of year or what time of day. We'd play catch in the snow in January. In the early morning light before school. In the dim light of the evenings when he got home from work. In high school, when I started getting college scholarship offers, we played catch. While on the team at Stanford, when my family went on vacation, we played catch. But then, my career ended. And with it, our game of catch. Time is a funny thing. Usually, it goes unnoticed. It exists, but not really. Only in some abstract sense. It flows under the surface. Adjacent to your reality, but not exactly in it. The routines of life make it go faster. You settle into patterns. Paths with gravity. You take a job. You establish a place. You start a family. The days start blending together. They become weeks, months, years, even decades. But then, something breaks. There's some collision. Suddenly, time gets thrust to the surface. Time goes unnoticed, until it's the only thing you notice. I've felt that most painfully with my parents. My dad is 70 now. In some ways, that 70-year-old version feels like a stranger to me. I think the image we have of our parents never really changes from the one we establish as kids. I still see my dad as the young, vibrant, athletic young man. The one who could hit the ball farther than anyone I knew. The one who could toss me up on his shoulders in a flash. The one who could beat me in a race (but usually let me win). I still see that young dad in his eyes, in his energy, in his curiosity for life. In some painful sense, I imagine the 70-year-old version feels like a stranger to him, too. Time is cruel. But that cruelty carries the seeds of beauty. The most beautiful things in life are made beautiful by their impermanence. So, what are we to do about all of this? Perhaps we must simply give in to time. Embrace its unending, relentless flow. Live as we are. Do as we can. But what if, in truth, we have a bit more power than that? What if it's possible, in some imperfect, impermanent way, to control time? To bend time and space. To really be there. To really feel it. To embrace it, without giving in to it. To live as we want. To do as we dream. That theory is what brings me back to last Sunday, when I felt compelled to unlock one of the old cabinets in my parent's cottage. It was a cabinet that, when opened, had the feel of a time capsule. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. A musty smell. Like reaching into it was reaching back in time. I pulled out my old baseball glove. And my dad's old catcher's mitt. I walked outside, where I found my dad playing with his grandsons on the swings. I held up the two gloves, a smile across my face. "Hey, Dad, wanna have a catch?" I smiled. He smiled. We walked side by side out onto the field. And there, in the tall, overgrown grass, we threw the ball back and forth. As we did, something amazing happened. Time melted away. 30 years disappeared. He wasn't 70. I wasn't 35. I was that little boy again. And he was my young dad. Just playing catch for no purpose at all. It was just a game of catch. But it was so much more.

Sahil Bloom

108,502 次观看 • 18 天前

🚨WOW!!! A foster mom caring for THREE special-needs kids couldn't afford the parts to fix her van's broken AC. So a total stranger bought the parts himself, fixed it for free, and had it running before she got there. When she reached in and felt cold air for the first time… she broke down crying. ❤️ The strangers name is Michael Kuba. And that story? It's just one of thousands. About 11 years ago, Michael's own van AC died and the car shop quoted him almost $4,000. He had 3 little kids crying in the back seat in the Arizona heat… and no way to pay it. So he did the only thing he could do. He bought some tools. Watched YouTube. And through pure trial and error, he taught himself to fix it. Then he had a thought: how many other families are stuck in this exact spot? That was the birth of The Junkie Garage, a nonprofit in Glendale, Arizona. The rules are almost unbelievable. No income checks. No paperwork. No questions about your money or your past. You bring the parts. Y ou donate whatever you can afford for the labor. That's it. "I don't ask you for your income. I don't ask you who you are, where you came from, or anything like that. I just wanna help people get their cars working right." An AC job that runs $2,000 to $4,000 at a normal shop? His average customer pays less than $300, donations included. ...but Michael doesn't do it alone. His son Matthew has been right there beside him, wrench in hand, since he was EIGHT years old. He's a teenager now, and he's still there every week, fixing cars for strangers in his community. "It's an amazing bonding experience, and it gives me an opportunity most kids don't get." A dad teaching his boy how to fix an alternator… and how to be a man. Michael puts it like this: "You haven't lived until you've done something for someone that can never repay you." He's got dreams of a bigger shop, more volunteers, more cars, more families kept on the road to work and school and church. "If you have the ability to help people, just do it." GOD BLESS Michael and Matthew Kuba. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

🚨WOW!!! A foster mom caring for THREE special-needs kids couldn't afford the parts to fix her van's broken AC. So a total stranger bought the parts himself, fixed it for free, and had it running before she got there. When she reached in and felt cold air for the first time… she broke down crying. ❤️ The strangers name is Michael Kuba. And that story? It's just one of thousands. About 11 years ago, Michael's own van AC died and the car shop quoted him almost $4,000. He had 3 little kids crying in the back seat in the Arizona heat… and no way to pay it. So he did the only thing he could do. He bought some tools. Watched YouTube. And through pure trial and error, he taught himself to fix it. Then he had a thought: how many other families are stuck in this exact spot? That was the birth of The Junkie Garage, a nonprofit in Glendale, Arizona. The rules are almost unbelievable. No income checks. No paperwork. No questions about your money or your past. You bring the parts. Y ou donate whatever you can afford for the labor. That's it. "I don't ask you for your income. I don't ask you who you are, where you came from, or anything like that. I just wanna help people get their cars working right." An AC job that runs $2,000 to $4,000 at a normal shop? His average customer pays less than $300, donations included. ...but Michael doesn't do it alone. His son Matthew has been right there beside him, wrench in hand, since he was EIGHT years old. He's a teenager now, and he's still there every week, fixing cars for strangers in his community. "It's an amazing bonding experience, and it gives me an opportunity most kids don't get." A dad teaching his boy how to fix an alternator… and how to be a man. Michael puts it like this: "You haven't lived until you've done something for someone that can never repay you." He's got dreams of a bigger shop, more volunteers, more cars, more families kept on the road to work and school and church. "If you have the ability to help people, just do it." GOD BLESS Michael and Matthew Kuba. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

Matt Van Swol

286,647 次观看 • 29 天前

🎥|Interviewer: What is what has your son (Freddie) taught you? Louis: How's the teenage years, by the way? Interviewer: Oh my god. Let me just warn you that she's an amazing kid. I love her. But there's sometimes you just, you know, she just needs to go do her own thing and stay. She just doesn't want to talk to me. Nothing to do with me, you know. Louis: I suppose nature and being that old, I can remember, you know, life at that age. Uh oh, it's beautiful, man. And also it I feel like I've been saying this every year, but it's such a lovely moment in life at the moment. Like he's nine, he's about to be 10. Still so pure and so kind. But we've got to the stage now where I can feel him resisting a little bit. You know, when I drop him off at school, I'm quite like a touchy feely dad. Like I like holding hands with him and stuff like that. He is getting stage where he's starting to resist that. He's pulling the hand away. Maybe it's not so cool to be doing that at school, which breaks my heart truthfully. But I suppose I got that to come. And also Christmas is a little different now cuz I don't want to break it to your listeners, but he knows about Father Christmas, Santa. Interviewer: I don't know what you're talking about. Louis: Exactly. Exactly. So yeah, things are things are a little bit different, but he's um I'm really proud of him, man. He's such a lovely lovely boy. Interviewer: Is he into your solo or the group's music? Or is he on his own world own thing now? Louis: Every now and then he'll discover like like one of like the deeper cuts of like a One Direction song and he'll tell me that he likes it. He loves my new song, Palaces, actually, which which I'm glad. I'm glad. That's a song I really love, too. So, I'm I'm happy he likes it. — Louis Tomlinson about his son via 102.7 Kiis FM.

🎥|Interviewer: What is what has your son (Freddie) taught you? Louis: How's the teenage years, by the way? Interviewer: Oh my god. Let me just warn you that she's an amazing kid. I love her. But there's sometimes you just, you know, she just needs to go do her own thing and stay. She just doesn't want to talk to me. Nothing to do with me, you know. Louis: I suppose nature and being that old, I can remember, you know, life at that age. Uh oh, it's beautiful, man. And also it I feel like I've been saying this every year, but it's such a lovely moment in life at the moment. Like he's nine, he's about to be 10. Still so pure and so kind. But we've got to the stage now where I can feel him resisting a little bit. You know, when I drop him off at school, I'm quite like a touchy feely dad. Like I like holding hands with him and stuff like that. He is getting stage where he's starting to resist that. He's pulling the hand away. Maybe it's not so cool to be doing that at school, which breaks my heart truthfully. But I suppose I got that to come. And also Christmas is a little different now cuz I don't want to break it to your listeners, but he knows about Father Christmas, Santa. Interviewer: I don't know what you're talking about. Louis: Exactly. Exactly. So yeah, things are things are a little bit different, but he's um I'm really proud of him, man. He's such a lovely lovely boy. Interviewer: Is he into your solo or the group's music? Or is he on his own world own thing now? Louis: Every now and then he'll discover like like one of like the deeper cuts of like a One Direction song and he'll tell me that he likes it. He loves my new song, Palaces, actually, which which I'm glad. I'm glad. That's a song I really love, too. So, I'm I'm happy he likes it. — Louis Tomlinson about his son via 102.7 Kiis FM.

World Tomlinson

208,248 次观看 • 9 个月前

THE DREW PAVLOU ORIGIN STORY: My haters only know me from my past year of tweeting. You have no idea how funny my actual origin story is. This is the story of how I accidentally caused an international political incident between China and Australia at the age of 20. I recorded that video of my Dad yelling at me the night before my first ever anti-CCP protest back in 2019. My Dad had just learned dozens of Chinese guys on Facebook were promising to kill me if I held a pro-Hong Kong protest at my university. So my Dad was yelling: “DREW, KEEP A FARKING LOW PROFILE!!!” I am a great son but I admit I am one of the most annoying people in the world today (top 0.0001 percentile). So the next day my Dad opened Facebook to find me giving interviews to international press as police helicopters flew over my university campus in midst of major standoff between our group of 30 anti-CCP activists and 500 pro-CCP thugs. This was June 2019. My 20th birthday marked the 30th anniversary of Tiananmen. Hong Kong was kicking off. I’d been reading about the persecution of Uyghurs and Tibetans. I became obsessed. I didn’t even know a single Uyghur or Hong Konger at first, I was just having orientalist white boy/autistic political fixation moment. I would read articles about it every day for hours and ultimately decided I had to do something. I had completely pure, noble intentions. No money, no CIA/State Department backing, just extremely enthusiastic white boy political autism. Like, I had taught myself 20 words in Cantonese so I could sing the Hong Kong protest songs. I even called it the “FREE HONG KONG FREE XINJIANG RALLY” because at this time I didn’t know Uyghurs hate the term “Xinjiang” (it means “New Territories” in Chinese) 😂 I had no experience with media, no experience protesting. I just knew how to be annoying. So I organised 20 of my friends and planned campus protest for Market Day, the busiest day of the year at the University of Queensland (UQ), the biggest uni in our state. I picked the busiest walkway at UQ and decided we would hold 30 minute sit-in chanting protest slogans against Xi Jinping. We didn’t know this at the time but UQ had perhaps the deepest economic and political ties with China out of any university in the English speaking world. 20 per cent of UQ’s budget came from Chinese international students. 9000 Chinese international students paying approximately $300 million a year. The Chinese government directly funded courses on campus through the UQ Confucius Institute and these courses taught that Hong Konger protesters and Uyghurs were terrorists. We had Chinese academics affiliated with the UQ Confucius Institute studying high tech weapons technologies, we had research institutes on campus helping to develop engines for PLA fighter jets. The Chinese government gave a medal to our university president Peter Høj for promoting Confucius Institutes worldwide and we later found out he was receiving a secret $200K bonus each year for deepening ties with China. And this wasn’t even scratching the surface. The youngest guy ever appointed professor at UQ was a bloke called Heng Tao Shen and he used Australian government research funding to develop AI technology that he then took to China to be deployed against Uyghurs in surveillance. So this was the combustible environment we were unwittingly stepping into. Chinese ultra-nationalists found our protest event on Facebook a couple nights before and started bombarding us with hundreds of death threats. They said they would rape my mother and kill me. I am Greek Australian man with hot Mediterranean blood, I couldn’t take this lying down. I searched “insults in Mandarin” on Google, I sent back the Chinese characters for “Fuck your ancestors to the 18th generation.” I think this was the point at which my Dad started yelling at me. The next day 500 Chinese ultranationalist counter-protesters rocked up. You can watch what happened

Drew Pavlou 🇦🇺🇺🇸🇺🇦🇹🇼

137,389 次观看 • 2 年前

Kory Teneycke, enough. There is a name for this pathetic behaviour of yours lately... attention-seeking public humiliation politics. And from a grown man who has spent years telling everyone else how professional politics works, it's painfully embarrassing to watch feom a so-called grown man. You want to criticize Pierre Poilievre? Use your big-boy vocabulary and make an argument. Calling him a “pussy” or an "asshole" in public while sitting around with Liberal strategists isn't analysis. It isn't courage, and it certainly isn't the sophisticated political insight you seem to think we're witnessing. It's a pompous middle-aged man in leather pants with copious media attention performing for the cameras because apparently being watched has become confused with being important or relevant. It's juvenile. Worse, you know exactly what you're doing. You know how clips work. You know how headlines work. You know perfectly well that every cheap insult becomes ammunition against the party you supposedly want to improve. So stop preening like you're bravely speaking truth to power. Nobody elected you. Nobody appointed you guardian of conservatism. And having Scott Reid and David Herle nearby doesn't magically transform schoolyard behaviour into statesmanship. If a young Conservative staffer behaved this way publicly, people like you would have them hauled into an office and told to smarten the hell up. Consider yourself hauled in. And Kory, perhaps ease up on mocking Pierre Poilievre for going to the gym while parading around in a reported $10,000 Gucci leather jacket, leather pants, soft paunchy belly and no discernable leg muscle. Leather. Pants. On a political strategist. If Kory wants to spend ten grand dressing like black Twizzler licorice, that's between him, Gucci and whatever happened in the fitting-room mirror. But that's not quite the position from which I'd be handing out unsolicited assessments of another man's masculinity. You showed up looking like Temu’s idea of an aging rock star’s second divorce, dressed for a Whitesnake reunion where even Whitesnake would have security remove you for excessive leather, and decided to talk smack about Pierre. How very pedantic and puerile. You're old enough to know better, experienced enough to know exactly what you're doing, and apparently far too impressed with yourself to notice the spectacle. You should be embarrassed of yourself. For a man who fancies himself a sophisticated political strategist, you're behaving like a caveman who learned to grunt louder in the mistaken belief volume equals validity. The self-awareness shortage among performative acting pundits may actually be Canada's most pressing supply-chain problem.

Kory Teneycke, enough. There is a name for this pathetic behaviour of yours lately... attention-seeking public humiliation politics. And from a grown man who has spent years telling everyone else how professional politics works, it's painfully embarrassing to watch feom a so-called grown man. You want to criticize Pierre Poilievre? Use your big-boy vocabulary and make an argument. Calling him a “pussy” or an "asshole" in public while sitting around with Liberal strategists isn't analysis. It isn't courage, and it certainly isn't the sophisticated political insight you seem to think we're witnessing. It's a pompous middle-aged man in leather pants with copious media attention performing for the cameras because apparently being watched has become confused with being important or relevant. It's juvenile. Worse, you know exactly what you're doing. You know how clips work. You know how headlines work. You know perfectly well that every cheap insult becomes ammunition against the party you supposedly want to improve. So stop preening like you're bravely speaking truth to power. Nobody elected you. Nobody appointed you guardian of conservatism. And having Scott Reid and David Herle nearby doesn't magically transform schoolyard behaviour into statesmanship. If a young Conservative staffer behaved this way publicly, people like you would have them hauled into an office and told to smarten the hell up. Consider yourself hauled in. And Kory, perhaps ease up on mocking Pierre Poilievre for going to the gym while parading around in a reported $10,000 Gucci leather jacket, leather pants, soft paunchy belly and no discernable leg muscle. Leather. Pants. On a political strategist. If Kory wants to spend ten grand dressing like black Twizzler licorice, that's between him, Gucci and whatever happened in the fitting-room mirror. But that's not quite the position from which I'd be handing out unsolicited assessments of another man's masculinity. You showed up looking like Temu’s idea of an aging rock star’s second divorce, dressed for a Whitesnake reunion where even Whitesnake would have security remove you for excessive leather, and decided to talk smack about Pierre. How very pedantic and puerile. You're old enough to know better, experienced enough to know exactly what you're doing, and apparently far too impressed with yourself to notice the spectacle. You should be embarrassed of yourself. For a man who fancies himself a sophisticated political strategist, you're behaving like a caveman who learned to grunt louder in the mistaken belief volume equals validity. The self-awareness shortage among performative acting pundits may actually be Canada's most pressing supply-chain problem.

Melanie In Saskatchewan

31,222 次观看 • 1 个月前

CBS’s Weijia Jiang Jiang at the #WHCD on her upbringing in rural WV: “I’ve been thinking a lot about my own journey to this podium tonight. I grew up in rural West Virginia, in a town at the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains, a town called Buchanan, Population 5,500. Those images of the devastating floods that you’ve been seeing are from my hometown. My heart, thoughts, and prayers are with everybody there. After my dad finished grad school at WVU, where he properly learned how to say let’s go Mountaineers, my parents decided to stay in the state to open a restaurant. It was such a treat when hunters came in and left deer meat as a tip. On Sundays after church, families packed into the dining room, all dressed up. My mom learned every customer’s name, their favorite dishes. I worked the cash register, topped off glasses of sweet tea and did my homework in the corner booth. A day like that seemed ordinary at the time. Looking back to think that days like that could be considered ordinary. It’s the most powerful reminder of how extraordinary America is. My dad came to the U.S. as a student with just 67 bucks, or as Frankie might say, 6-7. My mom holding a small suitcase on one hand and a toddler me with the other, yet they built a new life, a successful business, and a real future.” “Our Chinese restaurant was the first in my town. Of those 5,500 residents, the Chinese American population of Buchanan was 3. My mom, my dad, and me. Growing up there was not always easy. Most folks had never laid eyes on people who looked like my family, but far more often than not, the community was welcoming and generous. Turns out deer meat is great in a stir fry. In Mandarin, the word for America is Měiguó. It literally means beautiful country, and I love that. America the Beautiful was never only about her landscapes or landmarks. It has always been about the promise that, no matter where you come from, you get a shot at chasing your dreams. My dreams began right there in that family restaurant, a small TV in the back was often turned to the news, my dad’s go-to for learning more English. In the middle of dinner service, it was the CBS Evening News anchored by Dan Rather and Connie Chung. I was hooked. In middle school, I won a contest to be a student reporter for a national news show called Channel One. And when a local news crew came to cover it, they learned just how big my dreams really were.” [Middle school Weijia: I hope to be the next Connie Chang and better, that’s kind of hard, but that’s my goal. And so, I’m going to work very hard at trying to be a broadcast journalist.] “30 years later, it’s surreal to say that I’ve sat in Connie Chung’s old chair to fill in on the evening news, and Connie and I have talked about how the White House beat and the White House Correspondents’ Association used to be a little boy, bit of a boys club. For decades, women could be members, but they were not invited to sit at this dinner until 1962 when a woman who would become dean of the press corps insisted. Thank you, Mrs. Helen Thomas. So, tonight, it means everything to stand here is the first woman of color ever elected president of this association in its 112-year history. I’m here because of the tenacious women who came before me, Melissa, Susan, and support from my family who are with us tonight. My husband Luther, not from West Virginia, but Arkansas, similar enough. My amazing daughter Frankie. little brother Jack, who’s should be sleeping by now. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you the most. My parents came to a country with almost nothing to give their daughter everything, and now I have that because they could be with me in this moment. Mama baba shisha. And sitting with them, my middle school video production teacher, Mrs. Diane Williams, who spent countless hours on my submission for that contest. that changed my life. Like public school teachers across the United States, Mrs. Williams looked at a 13-year-old kid and said, you can be whatever you want when you grow up, and she meant it. My story is like that of so many in this room and in this country, only in America. Only in America could a little girl born in China and raised in Appalachian coal country make her way to the Oval Office to ask questions of the President of the United States.”

CBS’s Weijia Jiang Jiang at the #WHCD on her upbringing in rural WV: “I’ve been thinking a lot about my own journey to this podium tonight. I grew up in rural West Virginia, in a town at the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains, a town called Buchanan, Population 5,500. Those images of the devastating floods that you’ve been seeing are from my hometown. My heart, thoughts, and prayers are with everybody there. After my dad finished grad school at WVU, where he properly learned how to say let’s go Mountaineers, my parents decided to stay in the state to open a restaurant. It was such a treat when hunters came in and left deer meat as a tip. On Sundays after church, families packed into the dining room, all dressed up. My mom learned every customer’s name, their favorite dishes. I worked the cash register, topped off glasses of sweet tea and did my homework in the corner booth. A day like that seemed ordinary at the time. Looking back to think that days like that could be considered ordinary. It’s the most powerful reminder of how extraordinary America is. My dad came to the U.S. as a student with just 67 bucks, or as Frankie might say, 6-7. My mom holding a small suitcase on one hand and a toddler me with the other, yet they built a new life, a successful business, and a real future.” “Our Chinese restaurant was the first in my town. Of those 5,500 residents, the Chinese American population of Buchanan was 3. My mom, my dad, and me. Growing up there was not always easy. Most folks had never laid eyes on people who looked like my family, but far more often than not, the community was welcoming and generous. Turns out deer meat is great in a stir fry. In Mandarin, the word for America is Měiguó. It literally means beautiful country, and I love that. America the Beautiful was never only about her landscapes or landmarks. It has always been about the promise that, no matter where you come from, you get a shot at chasing your dreams. My dreams began right there in that family restaurant, a small TV in the back was often turned to the news, my dad’s go-to for learning more English. In the middle of dinner service, it was the CBS Evening News anchored by Dan Rather and Connie Chung. I was hooked. In middle school, I won a contest to be a student reporter for a national news show called Channel One. And when a local news crew came to cover it, they learned just how big my dreams really were.” [Middle school Weijia: I hope to be the next Connie Chang and better, that’s kind of hard, but that’s my goal. And so, I’m going to work very hard at trying to be a broadcast journalist.] “30 years later, it’s surreal to say that I’ve sat in Connie Chung’s old chair to fill in on the evening news, and Connie and I have talked about how the White House beat and the White House Correspondents’ Association used to be a little boy, bit of a boys club. For decades, women could be members, but they were not invited to sit at this dinner until 1962 when a woman who would become dean of the press corps insisted. Thank you, Mrs. Helen Thomas. So, tonight, it means everything to stand here is the first woman of color ever elected president of this association in its 112-year history. I’m here because of the tenacious women who came before me, Melissa, Susan, and support from my family who are with us tonight. My husband Luther, not from West Virginia, but Arkansas, similar enough. My amazing daughter Frankie. little brother Jack, who’s should be sleeping by now. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you the most. My parents came to a country with almost nothing to give their daughter everything, and now I have that because they could be with me in this moment. Mama baba shisha. And sitting with them, my middle school video production teacher, Mrs. Diane Williams, who spent countless hours on my submission for that contest. that changed my life. Like public school teachers across the United States, Mrs. Williams looked at a 13-year-old kid and said, you can be whatever you want when you grow up, and she meant it. My story is like that of so many in this room and in this country, only in America. Only in America could a little girl born in China and raised in Appalachian coal country make her way to the Oval Office to ask questions of the President of the United States.”

Curtis Houck

98,767 次观看 • 2 个月前

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 50,000 people marched on London.⚔️ The government said it wasn't that many. 🇬🇧 It was much, much more. This is not the first time 📜 It is 1381. England. You wake. The frost is on the ground. You are a serf. You cannot leave your village without permission. You cannot marry without permission. You cannot sell your own labour. The land you work belongs to a lord you have never met. Your father was a serf. His father was a serf. You have been told your son will be a serf too. So you were told. But something had cracked 💔 The Black Death had taken half of England thirty years before. Labour was scarce. Wages had risen. For three decades, ordinary people had been quietly getting richer. The powerful hated it. Every law they made, the people walked around. Then John of Gaunt, the king's uncle and the richest man in England, taxed every adult the same shilling to pay for the war in France 💰 The Poll Tax. In four years, they tried it three times. The third one was one too many. In May 1381, a tax commissioner arrived in the Essex village of Fobbing. The villagers drove him out. The king sent soldiers. The villagers drove them out too. You hear what happened at Fobbing. You hear what happened next. Essex rose first. Then Kent. Then the eastern counties. Villages emptied. In Kent, a man called Wat Tyler took command ⚔️ His first move was to break open Maidstone Prison and free a radical priest called John Ball. By the time they reached Blackheath, just south of the Thames, they were 50,000 strong. That night, John Ball climbed onto a cart and asked a question that would echo for 600 years: "When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?" 📜 They burned the Savoy Palace 🔥 Gaunt escaped on horseback to Scotland. The next morning, the king rode out to meet them. Richard II. Fourteen years old. Just a boy on a horse, in front of 50,000 armed peasants. He agreed to everything. End serfdom. End forced labour. End the Poll Tax. He had clerks write charters of freedom sealed with the royal seal 👑 You hold one in your hands. Freedom. You have won. The next day at Smithfield, the Lord Mayor of London stabbed Wat Tyler in the throat 🗡️ The king rode forward alone and persuaded the crowd to follow him out of London. Then he revoked every promise. "Serfs you are. And serfs you shall remain." 1,500 rebels were executed. John Ball was hanged, drawn and quartered at St Albans. The king was there to see it. The dream is dead. Or so it looks. But they thought they had lost. They had not 📜 The Poll Tax was never collected again in their lifetime. Or their children's lifetime. It would be 609 years before any government in England dared to try it again. Within a hundred years, serfdom in England had effectively died out. Not because the powerful chose to free their people. Because the powerful had learned what happened when they refused 🏛️ The lesson did not die. The Putney Debates. The Levellers. The Chartists. The Tolpuddle Martyrs. The Suffragettes. Every uprising drew on what happened at Smithfield. In 1990, a Prime Minister tried to bring the Poll Tax back. 200,000 people marched on London again. Following the same route the peasants took 600 years earlier. The tax was withdrawn within a year. Within months, the Prime Minister was gone. The powerful learned the same lesson. They always learn the same lesson. Every right we have today was taken, not given. By people like the 50,000 on Blackheath. 📖 Read the full story, get the lesson plan, share the facts → ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ They are still here 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 In every protest. In every refusal. In every "enough" spoken to a power that demanded too much. Same faces. Same blood. Same island 🇬🇧 This is our island. This is our story. This is our culture to keep 📜 Every story we tell, a supporter paid to keep alive. Without them, these stories stay in the past. Without you, the next one never comes out. 👉 👈 Be part of us. ☝️🇬🇧 Be Proud Of Us. 🙏🇬🇧

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 50,000 people marched on London.⚔️ The government said it wasn't that many. 🇬🇧 It was much, much more. This is not the first time 📜 It is 1381. England. You wake. The frost is on the ground. You are a serf. You cannot leave your village without permission. You cannot marry without permission. You cannot sell your own labour. The land you work belongs to a lord you have never met. Your father was a serf. His father was a serf. You have been told your son will be a serf too. So you were told. But something had cracked 💔 The Black Death had taken half of England thirty years before. Labour was scarce. Wages had risen. For three decades, ordinary people had been quietly getting richer. The powerful hated it. Every law they made, the people walked around. Then John of Gaunt, the king's uncle and the richest man in England, taxed every adult the same shilling to pay for the war in France 💰 The Poll Tax. In four years, they tried it three times. The third one was one too many. In May 1381, a tax commissioner arrived in the Essex village of Fobbing. The villagers drove him out. The king sent soldiers. The villagers drove them out too. You hear what happened at Fobbing. You hear what happened next. Essex rose first. Then Kent. Then the eastern counties. Villages emptied. In Kent, a man called Wat Tyler took command ⚔️ His first move was to break open Maidstone Prison and free a radical priest called John Ball. By the time they reached Blackheath, just south of the Thames, they were 50,000 strong. That night, John Ball climbed onto a cart and asked a question that would echo for 600 years: "When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?" 📜 They burned the Savoy Palace 🔥 Gaunt escaped on horseback to Scotland. The next morning, the king rode out to meet them. Richard II. Fourteen years old. Just a boy on a horse, in front of 50,000 armed peasants. He agreed to everything. End serfdom. End forced labour. End the Poll Tax. He had clerks write charters of freedom sealed with the royal seal 👑 You hold one in your hands. Freedom. You have won. The next day at Smithfield, the Lord Mayor of London stabbed Wat Tyler in the throat 🗡️ The king rode forward alone and persuaded the crowd to follow him out of London. Then he revoked every promise. "Serfs you are. And serfs you shall remain." 1,500 rebels were executed. John Ball was hanged, drawn and quartered at St Albans. The king was there to see it. The dream is dead. Or so it looks. But they thought they had lost. They had not 📜 The Poll Tax was never collected again in their lifetime. Or their children's lifetime. It would be 609 years before any government in England dared to try it again. Within a hundred years, serfdom in England had effectively died out. Not because the powerful chose to free their people. Because the powerful had learned what happened when they refused 🏛️ The lesson did not die. The Putney Debates. The Levellers. The Chartists. The Tolpuddle Martyrs. The Suffragettes. Every uprising drew on what happened at Smithfield. In 1990, a Prime Minister tried to bring the Poll Tax back. 200,000 people marched on London again. Following the same route the peasants took 600 years earlier. The tax was withdrawn within a year. Within months, the Prime Minister was gone. The powerful learned the same lesson. They always learn the same lesson. Every right we have today was taken, not given. By people like the 50,000 on Blackheath. 📖 Read the full story, get the lesson plan, share the facts → ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ They are still here 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 In every protest. In every refusal. In every "enough" spoken to a power that demanded too much. Same faces. Same blood. Same island 🇬🇧 This is our island. This is our story. This is our culture to keep 📜 Every story we tell, a supporter paid to keep alive. Without them, these stories stay in the past. Without you, the next one never comes out. 👉 👈 Be part of us. ☝️🇬🇧 Be Proud Of Us. 🙏🇬🇧

Proudofus.uk

22,069 次观看 • 4 个月前