Danielle Nutt

These boys are special. All of them.

Well, @JenniferSey does it AGAIN. I’m definitely not crying. It’s dust in my eye. Maybe you have dust in your eye too. My heart goes out to this young woman. Imagine a world where you don’t think fair is even possible. 😢

Where are the campus protests for these three young men?

@Vol_Hoops Continually praying for this family. Thank you for your leadership on and off the court coach 🧡

Devastated by the news of Wes Rucker's tragic passing. Our hearts and prayers are with his family and loved ones. He will be deeply missed by so many in our community and beyond.

Greta Thunberg hasn't said a word about Iran. Ask yourself why.

Silence from the left who cared so much about Gaza

American Media Pay attention.

I have been helping families in Venezuela for 10 years and anyone who hasn’t been there or in close contact with people there have no clue. People are just addicted to being mad. Well while ur mad, Venezuela is happy for the first time in 25 years.

Billy Bob Thornton: "Unless you have really studied stuff and know about a subject fully, who the hell would want to listen to an actor or a musician talk about politics?"

2025 Heisman Winner Fernando Mendoza has mastered the art of a speech

JUST IN: Indiana quarterback Fernando Mendoza honors his mother during his speech after winning the Heisman Trophy. Mendoza’s mother suffers from Multiple Sclerosis (MS). “Mom, this is your trophy as much as it is mine. You've always been my biggest fan … Your sacrifices, courage, love...” “Those have been my first playbook and the playbook that I'm gonna carry by my side, through my entire life...”

Gene Simmons gets asked about his political views: "Who the f*ck’s business is it? It’s none of your business… And you guys enflame the situation by asking ‘So, who are you for?’. Why do you care? I’m nobody…"

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces. But I see everything. Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments. One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?" "6:15," he said, confused. "Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it." He blinked. "You... you can do that?" "I can now," I said. Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?" "Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing." He cried. Right there in the parking lot. Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic. But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!" "Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel." He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us." The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over." Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it. But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note, "Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends" People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket. I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece." So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones. Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees. It's not glamorous. But it's everything." Let this story reach more hearts.... Credit: Mary Nelson

Michelle Obama , I need your undivided attention. I’ve visited the White House… and you lived in it. So let’s stop the victim routine for a second because as Black Americans, when you put our lives side by side, your story doesn’t add up. I don’t normally compare my life to others, but I grew up in foster care. No parents. No stability. No safety net. I started with nothing. You had two parents, a stable home, and every opportunity in front of you. Yet somehow I believe in this country more than you do. You had million-dollar book deals, a $60M Netflix contract in your household, multiple mansions, a $100M net worth… And you’re still playing oppressed? Meanwhile, I built my food company COUSINTS.com from scratch. I wrote books with no book deals, no publishing machine, no million-dollar advances. America didn’t hold me back, I worked for everything I have. So maybe instead of fear-mongering and telling Black Americans what they can’t do, start telling them what’s possible — because I’m proof. If America was as hopeless as you claim, I wouldn’t have gone from foster care to the White House… and you wouldn’t have lived in it.

Charlie Kirk’s assassin Tyler Robinson, 22, killed him because he hated his opinions and thought he was a fascist. Yet ironically, HE was the fascist, killing someone to silence their opposing views. The woke left love to say ‘speech is violent.’ It’s not - violence is.

Resorting to violence to take out your political opponents isn't just wicked and cowardly. It's a confession — a desperate and damning admission that your ideas can't be advanced by anything but force.

Endless trucks of food are sitting inside Gaza — but the UN won't distribute them. @GHFUpdates has offered to securely deliver all this food to Palestinians, but the @UN refuses. Maybe they miss the good old days — when Hamas skimmed the aid, sold it for profit, and used the cash to fund their terror army.

We are only as strong as we are honest. Be real w/yourself, even with those things that only YOU know about you. The dark things that keep you from loving you.😭 Then, pray, release, and forgive YOU. There's someone who will need YOUR testimony to make it. ✝️🙏🏾 #YouGotThis