Underrated Tweets 4 Sale

Where are all of the @TheRealCocoJ fans!! How did lil bro do? @Davontie1 youtu.be/YgC7ib1hk-g?si… #GoodMorning #Paris2024 #cocojones #music #rnb #retweet #new

In 1931, in Scottsboro, Alabama, nine Black teenagers were pulled off a freight train. Two white women accused them of rape. No evidence. All-white jury. Eight sentenced to death. One, 13-year-old Roy Wright, got life because he was a child. The case became international news. But inside Kilby Prison, the boys were alone. Except for one woman: Jane Newton, 57, a white seamstress from Birmingham. She read about it in the paper and took a bus. She wasn’t a lawyer. She wasn’t an activist. She just sat in the visitors’ room every Tuesday. She brought fried chicken, cornbread, and pencils. She taught them to write their names. Most were illiterate. The guards called her “Nigger Lover.” She said: “I’m a Christian. You boys write your mothers.” She mailed the letters herself. When Olen Montgomery went blind from prison beatings, she read to him. When Andy Wright turned 18 in a cell, she baked him a cake and sang through the glass. The Supreme Court overturned the convictions twice. It took 6 years, 4 trials. Four boys were finally freed. Four served decades. One, Haywood Patterson, escaped in 1948 and died in a bar fight. Jane died in 1946. She left no family. The boys chipped in for her tombstone. It says: “She came when no one else did.” In 2013, Alabama posthumously pardoned the Scottsboro Boys. Olen Montgomery, 95, the last survivor, was asked if he was angry. He said: “No. Miss Jane taught me to write my name. That’s how I signed the pardon. That’s enough.

@unlimited_ls Doing this leads me to believe she wanted that man to be her husband no matter what. Possibly even getting pregnant on purpose to keep him around. Him cheating on her is very telling. Killing your kids because your husband is cheating? Naw you cared more about him than them

🚨NEW: Arizona mom kills her two children and herself after shooting a woman in the back of the head who had been with her husband at a bar, then sent him a photo of one of the children bleeding from the head Andrea Clarice Davis, 38, drove to Tailgaters Sports Bar & Grill shortly after midnight and opened fire on her husband, Nolan Davis, and a 36-year-old woman he was with The woman was shot in the back of the head while trying to flee in her car, but survived After the shooting, Davis texted her husband saying she was going to hurt their children and sent him a photo showing one of them bleeding from the head Officers found Davis dead alongside her two children, 10-year-old Austin and 18-month-old Andolan

Let me trace the timeline here because nobody's connecting it. Step 1: Scrape the entire internet. Every book, every article, every conversation, every piece of art, every forum post. Do it without asking. Do it without paying. Step 2: Train a model on all of it. Call it "artificial intelligence." Step 3: Go to BlackRock's Infrastructure Summit and announce: "We see a future where intelligence is a utility, like electricity or water, and people buy it from us on a meter." Step 3 is where you sell people's own knowledge back to them. On a meter. They took the collective output of human thought, compressed it into a model, and now they want to charge you by the token to access a version of what you and everyone you know already created. One Reddit user put it perfectly: "They stole all this data from us, the people, our life's work, creativity, art, by devouring the internet and blowing through all copyright laws. Now they want to sell it back to us in the form of a utility." Imagine if someone photocopied every book in the public library, burned the library down, and then opened a subscription service for the copies. That's the metered intelligence business model. And they're pitching it to infrastructure investors as though they invented water.

Oh @Drake tweaking. He made an album for the world, for the rappers, and for the girls. And them shits slap 👾👾👾 he might just take up the top 3 albums on billboard. Hot 100 top 25 songs is all Drake 😂😂👾👾👾

@notmdeeeeee_ @SweetfaceK 🙌🏾🙌🏾

Master (verb): mastered; mastering (ˈma-st(ə-)riŋ) 1: To become master of: overcome

An 8-year-old boy noticed what every adult missed — and it quietly changed a family's life forever. Every weekend, the Hunter family walks into their local Waffle House in Little Rock, Arkansas, and asks for the same section. Not because of the booth or the view. Because of Devonte. Devonte Gardner is the waiter who greets Kayzen Hunter with a high five every single time. The one who already knows his order by heart — scrambled eggs with cheese, no toast, hash browns covered in cheese, and an Arnold Palmer. The one who always has a joke ready and a smile so big it feels like sunshine even on the grayest Arkansas morning. For about a year, Kayzen, his mom Vittoria, his dad, and his siblings sat in Devonte’s section every weekend. They got to know him. They learned about his wife Aissa and his two little daughters, Jade and Amoura. They saw someone who genuinely loved making people feel welcome, even when he was running on empty. What they didn’t know was what Devonte went home to after every shift. His family’s apartment had become infested with black mold and rats. His daughters were getting sick. With no other options, he moved them into a motel room that cost sixty dollars a night. Every tip he earned went straight to keeping that room. He was walking miles to work because the money he’d saved for a car had been swallowed by the emergency move. For months, he kept showing up to Waffle House with that same bright smile, and no one knew he was barely holding on. Then one day, Kayzen visited the restaurant with his grandfather. That’s when Devonte quietly mentioned he was looking for a cheap car. Kayzen, being Kayzen, asked more questions. He learned about the motel. He learned about the mold. He learned that his favorite person at Waffle House was struggling in ways no one could see behind the counter. He went home and told his mom they needed to do something. “He kept saying, ‘We have to start a GoFundMe and help Devonte get a car,’” Vittoria recalled. “He didn’t give up on it. He’s a kid with a big heart.” Vittoria helped Kayzen set up the page with a modest goal of five hundred dollars. In Kayzen’s own words, the description read: “Devonte is one of the most joyous and positive people you’ve ever met. He always greets us with the biggest smile. I hope your heart is as BIG as mine and you will help me spread kindness in the world.” At first, donations trickled in slowly. Then a local news station in Little Rock ran the story. Then The Washington Post picked it up. Then the whole country saw it. Within a month, the GoFundMe raised over one hundred and thirteen thousand dollars. Devonte broke down when he found out. “I started crying,” he said. “I’d been quietly struggling and didn’t want to ask anybody for anything.” With the funds, Devonte and his family moved out of the motel and into a real apartment. The full year’s rent was paid upfront so they wouldn’t have to worry month to month. Then Kayzen went with Devonte to pick out a car — a brand new one. They sat in it together, and Devonte told him, “Kayzen, you’re gonna be right here. I’ll pick you up from school.” Devonte said he planned to save the rest for his daughters. “Everything I’m getting is going mostly towards my daughters to make sure they have a great, great life. Make sure we won’t have to struggle anymore.” The Hunters still go to Waffle House every weekend. They still sit in Devonte’s section. Kayzen still gets his high five at the door. But now, when Devonte smiles, it’s a different kind of smile. When asked how it felt to help his friend, Kayzen kept it simple: “It just feels good to help someone else.” He’s eight years old. He saw a man who gave kindness to everyone and received very little in return — and he decided, without hesitation, that it wasn’t right. Most adults walked past Devonte’s struggle without seeing it. An eight-year-old boy didn’t just see it. He fixed it.

In 2002, a reclusive Russian mathematician named Grigori Perelman quietly uploaded a paper to an online academic archive. There was no fanfare, no public announcement—just a simple post before he returned to his private life. What he had shared was nothing less than the complete solution to the Poincaré conjecture, a problem that had stumped the world's top mathematicians for a full century. It was one of the seven Millennium Prize Problems chosen by the Clay Mathematics Institute as the most significant unsolved challenges in the field, each carrying a $1 million reward. No one had come close to solving any of them. Perelman had cracked it single-handedly, working in almost complete seclusion. It took the global mathematics community three years to thoroughly verify his proof. Once confirmed, the response was unprecedented. In 2006, *Science* magazine named it the Breakthrough of the Year—the first time a mathematics achievement had ever received that distinction. He was offered the Fields Medal, mathematics' most prestigious honor. He turned it down. The president of the International Mathematical Union traveled to Saint Petersburg and spent a full day pleading with him to accept it. Perelman politely refused and shut the door. In 2010, the Clay Mathematics Institute formally awarded him the $1 million Millennium Prize. He declined that as well, arguing that the award unfairly overlooked the foundational contributions of mathematician Richard Hamilton, whose earlier work had paved the way for his own solution. When asked why he would reject such a large sum of money, Perelman replied: “I know how to control the universe. Why would I need to chase a million dollars?” By then, he had already left mathematics behind. In 2005, he resigned from his position at the Steklov Institute, withdrew from the field completely, and moved into a modest apartment in a Saint Petersburg suburb with his aging mother. He spends his time growing mushrooms, playing the violin, and has not given a single interview since 2006. The $1 million prize he declined was later redirected to create scholarships supporting promising young mathematicians.

@elonmusk Just do why most billionaires do. Hire mercenaries and take care of the opps 🤷🏽‍♂️

Scam Altman and Greg Stockman stole a charity. Full stop. Greg got tens of billions of stock for himself and Scam got dozens of OpenAI side deals with a piece of the action for himself, Y Combinator style. After this lawsuit, Scam will also be awarded tens of billions in stock directly. The fundamental question is simply this: Do you want to set legal precedent in the United States that it is ok to loot a charity? If so, you undermine all charitable giving in the United States forever. I could have started OpenAI as a for-profit corporation. Instead, I started it, funded it, recruited critical talent and taught them everything I know about how to make a startup successful FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD. Then they stole the charity.

Fernando Mendoza stayed home with his mom to celebrate being selected first overall in the NFL Draft instead of attending the in-person celebration She has multiple sclerosis, causing her to be in a wheelchair. This is what matters. Not trophies—family.

Son used Ai to turn his mother’s old photos Into a 60th birthday gift 💝

Shreyovi, uma menina de 9 anos, venceu um prêmio internacional de fotografia com um registro incrível.

Only a white person can get away with this x.com/washghost1/sta…

Este hombre se llama Mohamed Bzeek, vive en California y esa niña que tiene en brazos murió pocos días después de que le hicieran la foto, también en sus brazos. No era su hija. Era uno de los diez niños que han muerto bajo su cuidado. Porque Bzeek es padre de acogida y solo acoge a niños en estado terminal, para que no mueran solos. Nació en Trípoli en 1954, antes de irse de Libia corría maratones. En 1978 entró en Estados Unidos con un visado de estudiante y allí se quedó. Vive en Azusa, una de esas localidades del extrarradio de Los Ángeles por donde circulan camiones y donde las casas tienen una pinta genérica, agrupadas sin llamar la atención. En 1989 conoció a Dawn Rowe, que ya era madre de acogida desde principios de los ochenta, se casaron y empezaron a acoger juntos. En 1995 tomaron la decisión de dedicarse exclusivamente a niños con enfermedades terminales, los que nadie quería. Me pregunto cómo fue ese momento exacto en que dos personas se sientan en una cocina y deciden que van a abrir su casa a los niños que se mueren, y en cómo esa decisión se toma, sin actas, sin nada que la registre, y sin embargo organiza el resto de una vida. La primera niña que murió en su casa tenía un año, espina bífida, parte de la columna le crecía fuera de la piel. Murió el 4 de julio de 1991, mientras Mohamed se duchaba y Dawn preparaba la cena, él recuerda haber salido del baño y haber encontrado médicos en su salón. Lloró tres días. Desde entonces ha acogido a unos ochenta niños, diez han muerto en sus brazos. El condado de Los Ángeles, cuatro millones de habitantes, lo llama cuando no hay nadie más. Lo llaman el padre de último recurso. Muchos llegan sin nombre, nacen en hospitales y los abandonan, las familias no los nombran y en el papel pone "Baby boy", "Baby girl". Mohamed los nombra, les pone un nombre antes de que mueran. Un nombre es gratis, cuatro sílabas, pero ese gesto, cuando se pone el nombre, decide si un niño que vivirá tres semanas existirá como persona o como registro administrativo. Su hijo biológico, Adam, nació con osteogénesis imperfecta y enanismo, se ha roto casi todos los huesos del cuerpo. Dawn murió en 2015 de una enfermedad pulmonar y desde entonces Mohamed sigue solo, solo puede ocuparse de un niño a la vez. Cuando un periodista del Los Angeles Times entró en su casa en 2017 cuidaba de una niña de seis años con microcefalia, ciega, sorda, pies zambos, caderas dislocadas, no movía brazos ni piernas, tenía convulsiones. La había recibido con siete semanas de vida y le habían dicho que viviría unos meses. La sostenía durante las convulsiones y le hablaba aunque no oyera. Sé que no puede oír, sé que no puede ver, pero le hablo, tiene sentimientos, es un ser humano. En 2016, a Bzeek le diagnosticaron cáncer de colon, le pidió tiempo al médico, no puedo operarme todavía, tengo a un niño en casa que es terminal y tengo a mi hijo, que es discapacitado, no hay nadie más para ellos. En el hospital, ingresado, solo, dijo que por primera vez entendió lo que sentían los niños que cuidaba. Si yo a esta edad estoy asustado, cómo estarán ellos. Se operó y siguió. Bzeek es musulmán practicante. Su historia se hizo internacional en febrero de 2017, justo cuando Trump firmó la orden ejecutiva que vetaba la entrada en Estados Unidos a ciudadanos de siete países de mayoría musulmana, Libia era uno de ellos. Ese mismo mes, en Azusa, el único padre de acogida de toda la ciudad de Los Ángeles dispuesto a llevarse a casa a los niños terminales era un libio musulmán. Aunque mi corazón se rompa, dijo una vez, la muerte es parte de la vida, estoy con ellos hasta el final, los conforto, los quiero, quiero que sientan que tienen una familia, que tienen a alguien. Que no están solos.

Bayer is a German chemical company. They make Roundup. Roundup gives people non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Bayer has paid over $11 billion in cancer lawsuits. This week, Congress is going to vote on a bill that gives Bayer permanent immunity from being sued by Americans who get cancer from their product. Here is how it happened. 🧵

And there you have it, folks.

This is basically a light sprint for 26 miles. That’s crazy

This guy spent $3,140 on chocolate pudding and got 1.25 MILLION free airline miles His name is David Phillips and in May 1999 he was a 35 year old civil engineer at UC Davis when he spotted a Healthy Choice promotion It was offering 500 frequent flyer miles for every 10 product barcodes mailed in, doubled to 1,000 miles if you mailed them in by May 31 He did the math on the cheapest Healthy Choice product he could find Individual chocolate pudding cups were on sale at his local Grocery Outlet for 25 cents each, meaning $2.50 of pudding could buy him 1,000 airline miles The airlines themselves valued those miles at around $20 He drove a van from store to store across California with his mother in law, cleaned out 10 different Grocery Outlets around the Sacramento area and ended up with 12,150 pudding cups stacked from his garage to his living room When suspicious cashiers asked what he was doing he told them he was "stocking up for Y2K" The early bird deadline was 3 weeks away and there was no way he could peel that many barcodes alone, so he called the Salvation Army and proposed a trade He would donate all 12,150 cups if their volunteers peeled the labels off first This donation also got him an $815 federal tax write off on top of everything He mailed the barcodes in by the deadline and then heard absolutely nothing back for 2 months His friends told him corporations always get out of promotions like this and his kids even started asking him if he got scammed Then a giant package showed up at his door with paper certificates worth 1,253,000 frequent flyer miles, which made him a lifetime AAdvantage Gold member at American Airlines and was worth around $150,000 in flights The Wall Street Journal put him on the front page in January 2000 and the London Times wrote about him a week later Over the next 5 years he flew his entire family to 43 countries, and in 2002 director Paul Thomas Anderson loosely based the movie Punch Drunk Love on him Adam Sandler made a movie about him and he paid for the ticket with pudding

Quincy Wilson and the Bullis squad become first 🇺🇸American boys team to win Penn Relays Championship of America 4x400m in nearly 20 years!

Meet the founder and CEO of a black-owned 305 Miami Houses (real estate firm ) Her mission is to "buy back the block" by revitalizing homes in historically Black neighborhoods in Miami Gardens and throughout South Florida. Her name is Shamise Smith

SPLC funded a large number of false flag “right wing” organizations and events. Total scam.