Fuzzy Wuzzy 💙🇺🇸

@SSB_Rick Congratulations! Keep it up. You’ll like yourself more.

My name is Chris and I’m an alcoholic. Here’s to my 12th day of being sober. My mind is getting more clear and the urge is slowly fading. I do have my moments, but I’ll work through them. If I can do this, so can you!

@saniyafatma1278 It’s gorgeous. Wear it with respect, pride, and love.

I'm sitting in my bedroom staring at my grandmother's 1950s wedding dress, and I honestly don't know what to do anymore. Found it in her attic last month - sixty-four dollars was all she paid for it back then. The moment I saw all that delicate lace and the full skirt, my heart just melted. It felt like finding buried treasure. But apparently I'm the only one who thinks so. My sister took one look and said, "You're not seriously considering wearing that old thing, are you?" My best friend was even worse - "Nobody wears sleeves like that anymore, and that neckline is way too conservative. You'll look like you're playing dress-up." Their words keep echoing in my head, making me second-guess everything. But when I put this dress on, I feel connected to something bigger than trends and Pinterest boards. I feel like I'm honoring the woman who raised me, who taught me that real beauty doesn't need to scream for attention. I already found this incredible seamstress on Tedooo app who specializes in vintage alterations. She was so sweet when I explained the story, and she's going to take in the waist and adjust the hem while keeping every bit of the original character intact. I've already paid her deposit, and honestly, even if I hadn't, I don't want to change a single thing. Posted about it in a DIY group yesterday hoping for encouragement, and while people offered suggestions for "modernizing" it, I realized something important. This dress doesn't need to be fixed or updated or made trendy. It's perfect exactly as it is. I'm done asking for permission to love what I love. If walking down the aisle in my grandmother's dress makes me happy, then that's exactly what I'm going to do. Sometimes the most beautiful choice is the one that feels right in your heart, even when everyone else thinks you're crazy.

@John_Dabell Wishing you strength.

Yet another hospital visit!

@Markfry809 Oh please, yes

Trump is going to have a coronary when he finds out his Mar-a-Lago district just flipped blue.

@Mr_Husky1 Nono No No NO!! Don’t even consider this. You bring to the marriage what you do but don’t ever comingle your inheritance Sign a solid pre-nup and if they don’t want to…WALK P,ease take my words of experience

I’m about to get married, and my fiancé knows I have an inheritance that was left to me by my grandparents. It’s in my name only, and I’ve been saving it for years. Now he’s saying that before we get married, I should put the entire inheritance into a joint account so we can “start fresh together,” or he doesn’t think we should go through with the wedding. I’m 36 already and this is something my family worked hard to leave me. I’m torn between wanting to build a life together and feeling like I’m being pressured to give up something important to me. What do you think I should do? By isitmeaitah

@tii_bag @GlorySereti Best decision here.

@GlorySereti I'm never sharing my password again no matter what happens

I shared my wifi password with my neighbour and he's been using it for 5 months. Today I asked to be added to their Netflix but he said that its his wife who pays for the Netflix and she refused. Well,I cut them off from my wifi and he has the audacity to come ask why I did so

@UnrealBluegrass @dog_rates

Just dogs today please. That's all I need. @dog_rates

TSA employees are frustrated and suffering with out their paychecks. Now ICE agents will be coming to fill in. Will ICE agents be paid?

Un-fu@king believable!

@CheriJacobus Heck yeah!

I've an outfit picked out for each season, depending when the big day happens. There will be dancing in the streets! Celebrations worldwide! It will be a glorious day, when we get the news:) Do you know what I am talking about?

@John_Dabell Great photo, John. I love how you embrace each day.

Back to one of my favourite walks! First visit since Critical Care - this one means a lot.

@Microinteracti1 Thank you for your thoughts. Well written. I’m appalled at his behavior. Bring back respect and kindness.

Robert Mueller died last night. He was 81 years old. He had a wife who loved him for sixty years. He had two daughters, one of whom he met for the first time in Hawaii, in 1969, on a few hours of military leave, before he got back on the plane and returned to Vietnam. He had grandchildren. He had a faith he practiced quietly, without performance. He had, in the way of men who have seen real things and survived them, a quality that is increasingly rare and increasingly mocked in the country he spent his life serving. He had integrity. And tonight the President of the United States said good! I have been sitting with that word for hours now. Good. One syllable. The thing you say when the coffee is hot or the traffic is moving. The thing a man who has never had to bury anyone, never had to sit in the specific silence of a room where someone is newly absent, reaches for when he wants the world to know he is satisfied. Good. The daughters are crying and the wife is alone in the house and good. I want to speak directly to the Americans reading this. Not the political Americans. Just the human ones. The ones who have lost a father. The ones who know what it is to be in that first hour, when you keep forgetting and then remembering again, when ordinary objects become unbearable, when the world outside the window seems obscene in its indifference. I want to ask you, simply, to hold that feeling for a moment, and then to understand that the man you elected looked at it and typed a single word. Good. This is not a country having a bad day. I need you to understand that. Countries have bad days. Elections go wrong. Leaders disappoint. Institutions bend. But there is a different thing, a rarer and more terrible thing, that happens when the moral center of a place simply gives way. Not dramatically. Not with a single catastrophic event. But quietly, in increments, until one evening a president celebrates the death of an old man whose family is still warm with grief, and enough people find it acceptable that it becomes the weather. Just the weather. That is what is happening. That is what has happened. The world knows. From Tokyo to Oslo, from London to Buenos Aires, people are not angry at America tonight. Anger would mean there was still something to fight for, some remaining faith to be betrayed. What I see, in the reactions from everywhere that is not here, is something older and sadder than anger. It is the look people get when they have waited a long time for someone they love to find their way back, and have finally understood that they are not coming. America is being grieved. Past tense, almost. The idea of it. The thing it represented to people who had nothing else to believe in, who came here with everything they owned in a single bag because they had heard, somehow, across an ocean, that this was the place where decency was written into the walls. That idea is not resting. It is not suspended. It is being buried, in real time, with 7,450 likes before dinner. And the church said nothing. Seventy million people have decided that this man, this specific man who has cheated everyone he has ever made a promise to, who has mocked the disabled and the dead and the grieving, who celebrated tonight while a family wept, is an instrument of God. The pastors who made that bargain did not just trade away their credibility. They traded away the thing that made them worth listening to in the first place. The cross they carry now is a costume. The faith they preach is a loyalty oath with scripture attached. When the history of American Christianity is written, this will be the chapter they skip at seminary. Now I want to talk about the men who stand next to him. Because this is the part that actually breaks my heart. JD Vance is not a bad man. I have to say that, because it is true, and because the truth matters even now, especially now. Marco Rubio is not a bad man. Lindsey Graham is not a bad man. They are idiots, but not bad, as in BAD! These are men with mothers who raised them and children who love them and friends who remember who they were before all of this. They are not monsters. Monsters are simple. Monsters do not cost you anything emotionally because there is nothing in them to mourn. These men are something more painful than monsters. They are men who knew better, and know better still, and will get up tomorrow and do it again. Every small compromise they made had a reason. Every moment they looked the other way had a justification that sounded, at the time, almost reasonable. And now they have arrived here, at a place where a president celebrates the death of an old man and they will find a way, on television, to say nothing that means anything, and they will go home to houses where children who carry their name are waiting, and they will say goodnight, and they will say nothing. Their oldest friends are watching. The ones who knew Rubio when he still believed in something. Who knew Graham when he said, out loud, on the record, that this exact man would destroy the Republican Party and deserve it. Who sat next to Vance and thought here is someone worth knowing. Those friends are not angry tonight. They moved through anger a long time ago. What they feel now is the quiet, irrecoverable sadness of watching someone disappear while still being present. Of watching a person they loved choose, again and again, to become less. That is what cowardice costs. Not the coward. The people who loved him. And in the comments tonight, the followers celebrate. People who ten years ago brought casseroles to grieving neighbours. Who stood in the rain at gravesides and meant the words they said. Who told their children that we do not speak ill of the dead because the dead were someone's beloved. Those people are tonight typing gleeful things about a man whose daughters are not yet done crying. And they feel clean doing it. Righteous. Because somewhere along the way the thing they were given in exchange for their decency was the feeling of belonging to something, and that feeling is very hard to give up even when you can no longer remember what you gave for it. When Trump is gone, they will still be here. Standing in the silence where the noise used to be. Without the permission the crowd gave them. Without the pastor who told them their cruelty was holy. They will be alone with what they said and what they cheered and what they chose to become, and there will be no one left to tell them it was righteous. That morning is coming. Robert Mueller flew across the Pacific on military leave to hold his newborn daughter for a few hours before returning to the war. He came home. He buried his dead with honour. He served presidents of both parties because he understood that the institution was larger than any one man. He told his grandchildren that a lie is the worst thing a person can do, that a reputation once lost cannot be recovered, and he lived that, every day, in the quiet and unglamorous way of people who actually believe what they say. He was the kind of American the world used to point to when it needed to believe the story was true. He died last night. His wife is alone in their house in Georgetown. His daughters are learning what the world is without him in it. And somewhere in the particular hush that falls over a family in the first hours of loss, the most powerful man and the biggest loser on earth sent a message to say he was glad. The world that loved what America was supposed to be is grieving tonight. Not for Robert Mueller only. For the country that produced him and then became this. For the distance between what was promised and what was delivered. For the suspicion, growing quieter and more certain with each passing month, that the America people believed in was always partly a story, and the story is over now, and there is nothing yet to replace it. That is all it needed to be. A man died. His family is broken open with grief. That is all it needed to be. Instead the President said good. And the country that once stood for something looked away 🇺🇸 Gandalv / @Microinteracti1

@Mishi_2210 52

Everyone says 20 ,but that’s not the real answer If you solve this, you’re in the top 1%

@TheRealThelmaJ1 @oraltransbae I just asked is he dead yet

Have we obliterated Iran and won the war again today?

Gas prices got us like 😩… and this guy NAILED it. So good CNN had to air it! 🔥

@Natasha_Brynn1 @mcgee_mom 💙

If you’re following me and i haven’t followed back yet please leave a 💙 on this post. It will take time but i will try to follow y’all back. If we're not mutuals yet, feel free to follow, and I'll return the favor!

@joekent16jan19 @cmclymer So glad your woke up from the nightmare.

After much reflection, I have decided to resign from my position as Director of the National Counterterrorism Center, effective today. I cannot in good conscience support the ongoing war in Iran. Iran posed no imminent threat to our nation, and it is clear that we started this war due to pressure from Israel and its powerful American lobby. It has been an honor serving under @POTUS and @DNIGabbard and leading the professionals at NCTC. May God bless America.

@krassenstein Take me with you!!!

We have left the United States for Montreal. No corruption here.

Every American needs to watch this. It’s jaw dropping

@SteveHartmanCBS I certainly applaud the win this evening but I recognized that you were in the background. You and your cameraman went out and collected these stories without “permission”, not knowing how it would’ve been received by CBS. Then they put you in the background. Congratulations.

Watch the official trailer for All the Empty Rooms, following reporter Steve Hartman and photographer Lou Bopp on an urgent and emotional cross-country journey to memorialize the bedrooms of children lost to school shootings. Coming to Netflix Dec 1. youtu.be/JhpJ8INsR0g