Kat Kelly

@C_3C_3 plus, Trump is using private moola. Gavin wastes everyone's money BUT his own.

Fun Fact: You could build 30-40 of “Trump’s privately funded Ballrooms” with the money spent on “Gavin’s taxpayer funded High Speed Rail”. I’m sure the Media and Democrats have mentioned this… Right?!

@SaltyGoat17 perhaps put him in a chair in a tent and have a sniper shoot him from a rooftop ... it would be worse than what he did to Charlie as he'd know it was coming. POS.

Injection or squad?

Mike Rowe had his mother, best selling author Peggy Rowe on his recent podcast. After her daily morning swim, Peggy saw a woman's backside in the locker room. She had an unusual tattoo on her rear-end, so Peggy asked her about it. You won't believe what it was. 😂

There's (almost) nothing worse than having to suffer endless political ads during election seasons. Right up there with Hollywood awards shows. Like nails on a chalkboard. Pratt makes the ads so entertainingly funny. MPEA Make Politics Entertaining Again ... Trump has made so much of American life better. IMO of course.

Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down

California Democrats fought to ensure you needn’t show ID when you vote. While it would be wrong to come to Los Angeles and vote, it would certainly be ironic.

@DisrespectedThe wash your mouth out with soap ... and the one when they did give you something to cry about, "Stop your crying! I don't want to hear it."

Some of you came from the "If you stop crying, I'll buy you something" generation. I came from the "If you don't stop crying, I'll give you something to cry about" generation. We're not the same!!

@KatTimpf sweet Kat, you will make it through, one moment at a time, because that is how your dad raised you and that is how you will raise your family. God bless!

My seemingly healthy, strong father Daniel “Dad Timpf” Timpf died very unexpectedly on the evening of May 7 at just 69 years old.   It does not seem like enough to simply call him my father, because he was so much more than that. He was my rock, my hero and my best friend. He was loyal, funny, kind, selfless, hard-working, and so devoted to his children that it was impossible to be near him and not find yourself inspired. He was a writer, a painter, a sailor, and somehow knowledgeable on every subject from world history to literature to accounting. He was the most dependable person anyone has ever met. I always felt like, as long as I had his phone number, there was not a problem I could not solve. I needed him here with me; I am not okay, and I am far from the only person who feels this.   The birth of my son in February 2025, his first grandchild, was supposed to be a happy new beginning for our family. A family that had been already once devastated by an untimely loss: the loss of my mother Anne Marie to a rare disease in 2014 just a matter of weeks after her diagnosis.   The joy of my son’s birth was, of course, complicated by my also very unexpected breast cancer diagnosis just a matter of hours before going into labor with him. During this time, my dad did what he did best, which was to save the day. As soon as he heard about my diagnosis, he simply got into the car and started driving to New York -- making it through the tunnel just as my  son was born…on the day that happened to be his own birthday, as well.   In the tumultuous time of a simultaneous new cancer diagnosis and new baby, my dad was the sole reason for our stability, rushing in to help care for our son, and returning to do so again for my double mastectomy, reconstructive surgery, and any time that we ever needed him. It was an awful, awful year… but I found so much joy and hope throughout it by watching the beauty of a very special relationship form between my son and my father. This horrible thing that was happening was creating such a very special bond between the two of them -- almost making the terrible thing worth it -- and I was so excited to see how that bond would grow.   The bond was of top priority for my father, who visited from Michigan often. I saw him last on the Monday before he died, and my son was so proud to help his grandfather push his suitcase down to the car as he left. The goodbyes were quick. Why wouldn’t they be? We would all see each other again at the beginning of June, when we would all head to Texas for my shows and to see my grandpa. We wanted to make sure that my son could spend as much time as he could with his great-grandfather. He is, after all, 93.   I was certainly not over the trauma of my cancer or having to amputate the breasts I so badly wanted to feed my son with, but the one thing I could always count on to get me through my worst moments was seeing my son’s and my father’s faces light up when they saw each other, be it during the visits or our routine morning and bedtime FaceTime calls.   That is, at least, until I had to hear over the phone from a doctor I had never met in an emergency room in the same town up north that I’d previously announced to my father that I was pregnant that my dad was dead; I would never see him again, and neither would my son. It would turn out that last year was not the hard one, after all. Rather, it was the one I would now do anything to relive. I would amputate my breasts every year just to be able to speak with him one more time, even for five minutes.   I am currently living an unimaginable horror. For many people, this is a tragic story. For me, it’s my life. I do not know how I will recover from it. I only know that I have to for the sake of what is left of my family.

Every food problem we now have was created by the same set of corporations that now sells you the solutions. Unilever sells you the seed oil that drives the inflammation, then sells you the Dove moisturiser for the inflamed skin and the Vaseline for the dry patches. Kellogg's sells you the cereal that produces the 11am blood sugar crash, then sells you the protein bar for the afternoon slump and the granola for the evening "healthy snack." Coca-Cola sells you the drink that drives the metabolic dysfunction, then owns Smartwater, Glacéau, and Innocent smoothies for when you decide to "detox." Nestlé sells you the chocolate, the diet chocolate, the protein chocolate, the cereal, the bottled water, the infant formula, and the wellness powder you stir into the milk afterwards. Then owns a major stake in L'Oréal, for the skin problems that follow. PepsiCo sells you the crisps, the fizzy drink, the "healthier" baked crisps, the Quaker oats for breakfast, the Tropicana juice, and the Gatorade for when you go to the gym to undo it. Mondelez sells you the biscuit, the chocolate, the cracker, the cheese spread, and the gum to mask the breath afterwards. One chain. Multiple revenue streams. Every stage of the metabolic decline has a product attached to it, sold by the same five companies wearing different labels. Step off the chain. The chain is the problem. Not the cow. Not the farmer. Not the butter. Not the egg.

I wanted to wish a special Happy Mother’s Day to Gold Star Mom Tina Peters. Her Navy SEAL son lost his life in service to our nation and she is now a political prisoner in Colorado for the crime of exposing Democrat election fraud. Free Tina Peters.

@PieterVand37940 Welcome to the United States of America and thank you for being a part of the solution, not the problem!

Finally something we agree on, South Africans are not Americans. The moment I set foot on American soil I denounced my South African citizenship and I became a proud Amerikaner. 🫡 Take note of the flag I fly, it is not a South African flag, nor a Palestinian flag or a Somali flag. 🚨 America is my country now.

@RealJamesWoods someone on X said that since CA doesn't require voter ID, we can all go there and vote for Spencer.

An astonishing 88% victory by Spencer Pratt in last night’s mayoral debate. Pratt: 88% Bass: 7% Rama: 5% Will Spencer win enough votes to overcome the usual mass voter fraud by Democrats? His stunning mastery of the facts trounced the talking-point blather of the two hacks.

@TeamTrump47 @spencerpratt @SteveHiltonx what a great idea

Since California doesn’t believe in voter ID laws 🗳️, maybe we should all fly to California and vote for @spencerpratt and @SteveHiltonx 😉 Anyone wanna go? ✈️

Japan: longest life expectancy on the planet (around 85 years). Plant-based advocates: "See? Rice and vegetables!" Japan's actual diet: Seafood: by far the most consumed animal protein, around 45-50kg per capita annually Pork: the most consumed land meat Chicken: a close second Beef: expensive but eaten regularly, and prized Eggs: among the highest per-capita consumption on Earth, often raw on rice Dashi (fish stock): the base of nearly every savoury dish on the table Roughly half of Japanese protein comes from animal sources. Their longevity gets pinned on the rice. Meanwhile they're eating fish at almost every meal, drowning their vegetables in fish stock, cracking eggs into breakfast, and treating beef like a luxury good worth saving up for. The fish is the meal. The rice is there to mop up the dashi. Acknowledging any of this would mean admitting that the longest-lived population on Earth eats half its protein from animals. And that conclusion doesn't fit the pamphlet. So they point at the rice. Hope nobody asks what's on top of it.

President Trump didn’t give a eulogy at a former Klan members funeral , that was Joe Biden. President Trump didn’t sleep with a Chinese spy, that was Eric Swalwell. President Trump didn’t spy on an incoming president, that was Obama. President Trump didn’t have classified information on his private server, that was Hillary Clinton. President Trump didn’t make a fortune through stock trading, that was the Pelosi’s. President Trump is probably the cleanest president in the history of the country. This man is a saint fighting his way through a den of vipers. The only scandals he is ever involved in are the ones that are completely manufactured by the left and the mainstream media.

Would someone PLEASE tell the BLACK people?👇🤨

Hi Dr Omara (I refer to you as Dr Dreamy to my friends!) I have done OMAD, and the intermittent fasting, but recently over the last few months, I've worked my way up to 3 days per week. Usually stop eating Saturdays around 5 and don't eat again until Tuesday. I feel better each time I do it.

A body that has never fasted is a house that has never been cleaned. And it's the house of a hoarder, with accumulated junk in every nook, cranny, and corner.

Another banger, Waylon Jennings Style!🤣😅🤣😂

Who did this!!!! 🤣😂🤣😂