Neferast🦉

Heavenly.

When asked about the recent settlement that prevents the IRS from auditing any Trump family tax records, Rep. Mike Lawler (R-NY) says President Trump “obviously had claims that he brought against the government as a result of” the Biden administration. “I think when it comes to any agreements that the president has made with the IRS, from my vantage point, you know, I think looking back at what the Biden administration did,” he says. “They certainly weaponized the government and were targeting the president.”

I spent fifteen years planting tomatoes the way every beginner does—in tidy, isolated rows like little green soldiers standing alone. They grew. They produced. But every July brought the same visitors: aphids clustering on new shoots, hornworms fat as cigars hidden under leaves, and a general sense that I was fighting a battle I couldn't quite win. Then a neighbor mentioned she always tucked marigolds around her tomato cages. Not beside them. Not in a separate bed. Right there in the same soil, close enough to touch. She said something about nematodes, but honestly, I planted them mostly because they're cheerful and I had extra seedlings. That season taught me something textbooks never quite capture. The tomatoes grew differently. Stronger stems. Deeper green leaves. And the aphids that usually covered my Early Girls by mid-summer barely showed up. I kept waiting for the infestation. It never came. Here's what I didn't understand until I started digging into the science: marigolds are chemical engineers. Their roots secrete a compound called alpha-terthienyl that doesn't just repel soil nematodes—it actually destroys them at the microscopic level. These tiny roundworms burrow into tomato roots and create wounds that invite disease. Marigolds quietly eliminate them before your tomato plant ever knows there's a threat. But the above-ground magic might be even more elegant. That distinctive marigold scent—the one that's almost spicy, a little bitter—works like a jamming signal. Aphids and whiteflies navigate partly by scent, homing in on the chemical signature tomato leaves release. Plant marigolds close by, and suddenly the airwaves are crowded. The pests literally can't find their target. Your tomatoes are still there, still producing those attractant compounds, but they're hidden in a cloud of competing information. I started noticing patterns once I paid attention. Basil planted near tomatoes meant fewer aphids up top. Not because basil repels them directly, but because it adds another layer of scent confusion. Nasturtiums along the bed edges turned into aphid magnets—they'd cover those trailing leaves and leave the tomatoes untouched, like kids ignoring vegetables when candy's available. The really surprising partnerships came from below ground. Bush beans I planted between tomato cages weren't just filling space. Beans host bacteria in their root nodules that pull nitrogen from air and convert it into soil-available form. They're essentially manufacturing fertilizer while they grow. And carrots pushing their taproots down through clay were creating channels that tomato roots followed like highways, reaching water and minerals they'd never access on their own. Some plants don't belong anywhere near tomatoes, and the reasons aren't always obvious. Fennel releases compounds through its roots that actively slow the growth of almost everything around it. Potatoes share the same fungal diseases because they're botanical cousins. Cabbages are such aggressive feeders they'll steal nutrients right out from under your tomato roots. The garden isn't a collection of individuals. It's a conversation happening in chemicals we can't see and relationships we barely understand. Tomatoes surrounded by the right companions don't just survive better—they become part of a system where every plant contributes something and nobody grows alone. That's not folklore. That's just how it works when you stop thinking in rows and start thinking in partnerships.

Pastor Shep being an asshole to a server, then realizes he can't cut the footage because it's a live stream