Chris Matthew

@m_takewaka No civil war over this. Plus, the best BBQ is in Kansas City.

My American friends, I'm facing a major problem here. When I say I want to eat American BBQ, some Americans say, "come to Texas," others say, "come to South Carolina," and still others say, "come to Missouri." I'm confused. Are you guys going to start a BBQ civil war?

@sakegorilla Kampai, my friend

今、日本語から英語への翻訳がかなり機能しているらしいから、日本語でもツイートしてみる。 一晩でこんなに日本酒に興味持ってもらえるとは思わなかったよ。 もっと世界中に届いてほしい！ みんなで"乾杯"したいぜ！世界の友人達🍶🫱🏻‍🫲🏽🌎🫱🏾‍🫲🏻🌏🫱🏼‍🫲🏿🌍🤝🍶

@sakegorilla Very. Thank you for sharing.

I studied fermentation and sake brewing at university, and I’ve been brewing for over 10 years. I’m so happy so many people are interested. Actually, I collect old Japanese brewing manuals—ancient books of craft and technique—and learn from them. Anyone curious?

@AiPinfu2003 😂

日本とアメリカでステーキとか芋煮の画像見せあってるの平和でいいね！！ 各国が自国の名物料理を見せあってるうちは平和は続く。 イギリスが紅茶の画像を見せ始めたら平和は終わる。

@cynicalmilkmaid Happy birthday!

cow posting will continue until morale improves it's also my birthday today

@mirumiru_1984 Happy birthday!

今日は私の誕生日でした🎂 42歳になりました✌️ まだまだ40代は長いなー😂 先は何が起こるか分からないなと改めて思った1年でした。 これからもよろしく🫶🏻

@najifurohaire Happy birthday!

3/29 お誕生日を迎えました໒꒱ ⸜❤︎⸝‍

@chefsevenn Grilled jalapeños.

You can add 1 topping RULES: You cannot add.. Mustard Chili onion Cheese of any kind And no mayo

@TiffanyFongEtc @TiffanyFong I’m sure you’ve gotten this recommendation already, but ginger tea always helps me. Failing that, whiskey. Hope you feel better soon.

being sick is awful. i need sleep, but i can’t sleep because i’m so congested i can’t breathe out of my nose, but my throat is so sore, it hurts to breathe out of my mouth. I’M SO FUCKING TIRED I’M GOING NUTS.

@manami_body Happy birthday!

本日32歳になりました🎂 素敵な1日を過ごしてまた1年良いスタートになりました✨

@BlatzBeerLover Not Black Labs, too 😓

Sad day. The rumors appear true. Pabst is killing off bottle Blatz alongside many other offerings like Schlitz cans, Old Mil & Strohs bottles. Local grocery is out. Woodmans West is out. It’s been a great run.…but…she gone

@learning_yohei Happy birthday!

It’s my birthday today! If you say “Happy Birthday,”it will make my day! 🥳🎉🎁🎂✨

@Mohum0fu Those look delicious! If you wouldn’t mind sharing the recipe, I’d appreciate it.

味噌つくね #自炊 #おうちごはん

@mikejwhelan I’m so sorry.

Rebecca Died 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I need your help my friends. 2026 has been very much hard work on here. If you have the time then could you please like, follow and share my content and help me to reach new people with a subject I am very passionate about. As ever, I really appreciate all of your support. ❤️

It was the anniversary of the Miracle on Ice, little Johnny Gaudrea Jr’s bday, and GW’s bday. They never stood a chance.

Kindly share and make others aware. Thank you.

@mikejwhelan All I can offer is my prayer. This is heartbreaking.

HOSPICE UPDATE Well, we made it through the day. That feels like a small sentence for something that felt so enormous. The woman we spoke with couldn’t have been kinder—gentle, patient, the kind of calm you borrow when yours is gone. She talked about hospice the way someone talks about love at the end of a long life: not as surrender, but as protection. As mercy. As presence. I listened, nodded, took notes and notes and notes… and inside I was walking a tightrope strung between fear, information overload, and one unbearable question I carry everywhere now: What is truly best for Rebecca? Because she is not doing well. Not hospital unwell—no sirens, no drama, no heroic interventions left. She is doing something quieter. Something far more frightening. She is fading. Most days she looks eighty. Maybe older. She can’t hold a thought long enough to finish a sentence. She can’t walk. She can’t pee on her own. She can’t sit and watch her birds anymore—the birds she loved, the birds she named, the birds that once anchored her to the day. Silence has replaced her voice. Confusion has replaced her wit. And I am standing in the same house, married to the same woman, but living in a different universe than the one we shared just six months ago. Six months. That’s what breaks me when I let it in. Six months ago she could walk. She could talk. She could argue with me, tease me, correct my memory, finish my sentences. Now I’m the only one finishing anything, and every ending terrifies me. The fear lives in my head. That’s the cruelest part. My worst fears—the ones I never said out loud, the ones I tried to outrun with research and hope and sheer stubborn love—have come true. I just didn’t expect them at seventy. I thought we had more runway. More ordinary days. More nothing-special afternoons that turn out to be everything. Hospice makes sense because the fight has changed. This is no longer about fixing her. It’s about loving her safely. It’s about comfort instead of chaos. Familiar walls instead of fluorescent lights. A bed that knows her shape. A husband who knows her breathing. Hospice isn’t giving up on Rebecca—it’s choosing to stay with her in the most human way left. And the truth I don’t say enough, the truth that scares me almost as much as losing her, is this: Being her caregiver for the last two years is killing me. Not metaphorically. Literally. My body is breaking down under the weight of vigilance. My heart is under siege. My mind lives in a constant state of alarm. I am exhausted beyond language. I am frozen—an old man standing in doorways, afraid to move because every decision feels irreversible. I love her so fiercely that it’s costing me my health, my sleep, my sense of time. I am trying to keep both of us alive with hands that are shaking. Hospice feels like someone finally acknowledging that love like this needs help. That devotion doesn’t mean isolation. That I don’t have to die with her in order to prove how much I love her. But I still have so many questions. I need another call. I need someone to walk this with me again, slowly, because my brain locks up when my heart takes over. I need reassurance that choosing comfort is not choosing abandonment. I need to hear—again—that what I’m feeling is normal, that this fear doesn’t mean I’m failing her. Because I am so afraid. I am afraid of mornings. Afraid of nights. Afraid of the quiet. Afraid of the moment she won’t recognize me—and the moment after that. Afraid that I will lose the love of my life while I am still standing right here, holding her hand. I am not brave. I am not strong. I am just a husband who loves his wife, standing at the edge of what comes next, hoping—begging—that bringing hospice home will let her feel peace… and let me survive loving her all the way to the end.

@yokochin153604 Happy New Year!

✨🎍Happy New Year friends 🎍✨ I visited Enmeiji temple, and ring the traditional New Year’s Eve bell. I returned ofuda I got last year, and got a new ofuda at that temple. #japanese #Japan #Nara

@OlaWikander Hittite or Akkadian would be fascinating

The new year coming up, I'm thinking of whether I should start doing a bit of online teaching of some ancient languages. Mainly, ofc, Ugaritic, but other stuff would be possible as well (Hurrian, perhaps Hittite or Akkadian). Any spontaneous interest? Just checking as of now.