Christopher Williams

💥One Year Anniversary Giveaway💥 One lucky person wins EVERYTHING pictured below! Follow our account, like and share this post to enter. Included in the giveaway: ENAK Seasonings Starter Bundle 2 bottles @Half_A_Pond KRS hot sauce 1 bottle @Oliva_Dorado_ olive oil 2 jars @AnciraSalsa 2 jars @GoatsSMOLbatch pepper jam 1 @HabaneroHarman hot sauce and 1 Comeback Sauce 1 jar @farmers_honey raw honey Winner must reside in the USA. Random winner will be chosen Tuesday, April 21, 2026 at 8:00 PM CDT.

What a way to start the week. Ugh. The tow industry needs to be heavily regulated and these tow companies need to face fines so punishable that they would be deathly afraid to tow someone’s car even if they are justified in doing so.

My man Bubbles gets to be an alien. Dope shit.

#dallasfreaks #dallastx #dallasfortworth #meetups

Look at their faces. What do you see? I wanted to look them in the eye and say, on the record, that they are attempting to reconstruct this government to undo Black progress. Their targeting of @calvin4clerk is rooted in that reality, and it needed to be called out plainly. I showed up speaking for myself. No organization in Louisiana sent me. No party asked me to come. I say that to make clear much of this work is being done independently, without formal partnerships, and without the budgets, staff, or institutional backing many established organizations have. I came because what they are doing is wrong. The court reconstruction happening in New Orleans has been done in different ways already in Baton Rouge and across this state—especially in the largest, Blackest cities—to dilute Black political power. I started Civics for the People because I know many of us don’t know what is happening inside government or how these systems are used. It’s my way of teaching the game and helping our people move with knowledge. Their elections are in 2027. We can send them home to frown and chew grass much gum as they please. If you believe this work matters, support Civics for the People at the link in my bio so I can teach the people and send some on these people home. Share if you care 🦾

I’m bored and decided to buy a plane today.

Justin Fairfax murdered his wife Cerina in their home, then killed himself and left their kids to pick up the pieces. As Black men, we need to be clear in moments like this: nothing is worth killing a Black woman. Nothing. Pain is real. Divorce is real. Depression is real. Rage is real. But none of it justifies violence against a woman. Too many Black women carry the weight of loving men who haven’t healed. Too many children are left to pick up trauma they didn’t create. A man who cannot control his anger is dangerous. And too often, the people closest to him pay the highest price. We don’t want excuses when others kill us. We shouldn’t make excuses when Black men kill Black women either. Accountability must be consistent. Protection must be intentional. Healing must be a priority. I grieve for Cerina, her children, and everyone who loved her. And I want Black men to hear this plainly: If you harm a woman, that is not manhood. Get help before you become harm.

I believe in abolishing police unions and holding entire precincts financially accountable for crimes committed by their own. Drain pensions. I believe in decarceration and humane prisons. I believe in resources and equity. I DONT believe in letting mfs who abuse and rape roam the streets, and especially not without a system tracking them. I don’t believe simply replacing cops with communities of flawed people to deal out “justice” will change anything, when there are religious and misogynistic fucks willing to let shit slide. NONE of this sounds crazier than convincing the civilized world to get rid of policing and prison when every community in history has had a code of behavior and punishments, many much worse than being locked in a building somewhere

@_ParadiseParis1 They were on a lot of my bootleg porn dvd’s lol

These are two mfs who have some nasty sex

As @bomani_jones says credibility is like insurance. You don’t need until you need it. Do with that what you will

I'm sorry, he's so full of shit. He's sacrificed quality and said "my audience will show up no matter what I give them" He is not altruistic. He is greedy and has marketed his limited abilities as a thoughtful business strategy.

I’m trying to, but it’s hard as fuck.

@charlie_wally @DavidDTSS I’m not surprised. I haven’t watched Diners, Drive-In’s, and Dives in a while so he can go drown in a lake of piss & shit with the rest of them

@GodKingAlmighty @DavidDTSS Yes. He’s MAGA

I used to joke that nothing would make me stop loving Guy Fieri. Glad I was joking.

Who was critical of this? Me and mine loved it.

This nigga be spitting harder than a spitting cobra

Very well written essay on the MAGA voter. This is what we are up against. Sam is 61 years old and lives in a town where the Applebee’s closed in 2014 and people still mention it like it was a natural disaster. The old factory shut down years ago, but Sam keeps his faded employee badge in a kitchen drawer because he considers it proof that America peaked sometime around 1987, right between the release of Top Gun and the invention of low-flow toilets. He firmly believes the country began collapsing the moment they stopped letting people smoke in restaurants and started putting kale in things. He wakes up every morning at 5:12 a.m., not because he has anywhere to be, but because decades of shift work, untreated sleep apnea, and permanent low-grade outrage have hardwired his body into a permanent state of agitation. He shuffles into the kitchen wearing camouflage pajama pants and a T-shirt that says “I Stand for the Flag” even though he has not stood up quickly without groaning since 2009. He pours himself coffee strong enough to power farm equipment and settles into his recliner to begin his daily ritual of becoming personally offended by things happening hundreds or thousands of miles away. Within half an hour, he is enraged about crime in Chicago, drag queens in Seattle, wind turbines in California, and a college professor in Vermont he has never heard of and never will again. Sam spends most of his time marinating in an ecosystem of Facebook memes, talk radio, Fox News, chain emails, YouTube clips, and badly designed websites with names like Patriot Eagle Freedom Truth News. By noon, he has shared seven posts warning that America is under attack by socialists, immigrants, vegans, pronouns, electric stoves, and people who use the phrase “lived experience.” He believes every story because every story confirms what he already feels: that the country has been stolen from people like him and handed over to people he does not understand. Sam is absolutely convinced he is one of the last remaining “real Americans,” despite living in a county entirely populated by people who also think they are the last remaining real Americans. He misses the America of his youth, which in his memory was a magical place where every man had a factory job, every woman made tuna casserole, every child respected authority, and nobody had tattoos, gluten allergies, or opinions about gender. He is nostalgic for a version of the country that mostly exists as a combination of old pickup truck commercials, Toby Keith songs, and stories his grandfather exaggerated after three beers. His truck is the size of a military vehicle and has never once carried anything heavier than mulch and emotional baggage. His pickup truck is so large that small birds alter their migration patterns to avoid it. The truck has never hauled lumber, gravel, or equipment, but it does haul an enormous amount of political anxiety. The back is covered in bumper stickers warning that he is armed, angry, and deeply suspicious of the federal government, except for when it comes to Medicare, Social Security, highways, farm subsidies, police funding, veterans’ benefits, and keeping its hands off his lawn. He likes to tell people he is “not political,” which is impressive considering his entire personality has become an endless loop of cable news grievances. He cannot attend a barbecue, church picnic, football game, or grandchild’s birthday party without eventually bringing up inflation, Hunter Biden, gas stoves, “the border,” or how nobody can say Merry Christmas anymore even though literally everyone still says Merry Christmas. Then Trump arrived, descending from his golden escalator like a casino-themed prophet sent by God to sell steaks and grievance. Sam had finally found his perfect candidate: a billionaire from Manhattan with multiple mansions, gold-plated bathrooms, and a private jet, who somehow convinced Sam that he understood the pain of a man screaming at the self-checkout machine in Walmart. Trump was loud, angry, theatrical, and constantly under investigation, which only made Sam admire him more. Every lawsuit, scandal, or indictment was not evidence of wrongdoing. It was proof that Trump was fighting the deep state, the media, the elites, the globalists, the FBI, the Democrats, the RINOs, and possibly the ghost of George Soros. Every scandal, every lawsuit, every indictment, every accusation became proof that Trump was fighting the corrupt establishment on behalf of “real Americans” like Sam. At this point, Sam does not support Trump because of policy details. He supports Trump because Trump has become the human embodiment of his anger, nostalgia, confusion, and Facebook feed. Trump says the world Sam remembers can come back, that the people Sam dislikes can be punished, and that all of Sam's frustrations are someone else’s fault. To Sam, Trump is no longer just a politician. He is a lifestyle brand. He is a martyr, a warrior, a stand-up comedian, a victim, a patriot, and the lead singer of a traveling grievance festival. Sam owns at least three Trump hats, two Trump flags, a Trump coffee mug, a “Never Surrender” T-shirt, and a giant “Let’s Go Brandon” sign in the garage that he insists is “not political, just funny.” For Sam, that is not politics. That is therapy. Trump is not just a candidate anymore; he is an emotional support billionaire. He is a spray-tanned security blanket with a private jet. He is the gold-plated, fast-food-fueled mascot Sam clings to whenever the modern world feels confusing, threatening, or insufficiently patriotic. Trump gives him a ready-made explanation for every disappointment in his life: it is not aging, bad luck, economic change, or his own choices; it is the immigrants, the liberals, the media, the globalists, the vegans, the people with pronouns, and whoever is ruining Christmas this week. Supporting Trump lets Sam believe there is still someone out there fighting for him.

I never knew there was a video to this song. I can’t tell you how many times I bought How U Luv That Vol. 1 & 2 back in the day.

You know I’ve long been done with celebrity gossip and I hope this is a catalyst for a lot of people to be done with it as well. They should really remove us from their group chat because they all look like clowns and this is not entertaining or newsworthy anymore

I finally finished my book 😎