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When I was cartooning for the LA Times I drew this - held it in reserve, just in case I ran dry on ideas.
It's Evergreen
Strikingly, she’s everything you’re not.
She was an extremely competent public servant. She’s smart and ethical.
You on the other hand, act like a Disaffected 12 year-old mean girl
You’re nothing. I take that back. You are something, you’re jealous.
“I thought this war movie was too violent.”
Imagine writing a review with that when, central to the story, is one of the most violent campaigns (Okinawa) of the Pacific war kind of line in it.
Audiences loved it, by the way
They have no intention of governing.
America elected a bunch of Middle School mean girls intent on a vengeance tour
"Good and hard" America. Good and hard
Yeah, you're wrong.
You're an envy-laden jerkwad upset that some working class dude got life-changing money from strangers... and he didn't.
I'm stunned he didn't ask everyone to subscribe to his channel.
Clown
Am I alone in thinking it’s obscene this guy is getting worldwide acclaim & has had life-changing $ raised for this reaction? The prank is annoying. The frustration is fair. The reaction is totally disproportionate nearly having a mental breakdown over a kid trying a dumb prank. Neither party looks good in this. Am I wrong?
I played HS football long before this clown. There's film of me playing, so there has to be film this midget playing ball. Right? Right?
Let's see film of him.
Short man syndrome in foul throttle.
El-Sayed went on this bizarre rant against Pete Hegseth -- claiming that Hegseth "rode the pine" in "whatever sport he played" in high school.
He invoked Hegseth's mother (moms are fair game now, huh?), and claimed she was "the type" who would have worn her son's jersey to games.
*Hegseth was an all-state point guard in high school in Minnesota, set various school records. He played college ball and got some floor time in the 2001 NCAA tournament. El-Sayed played club lacrosse at Michigan.*
Here's El-Sayed's animosity-filled diatribe against Hegseth:
"You know he would have rode the pine. He probably got to start 2 games his entire career, playing whatever sport it was."
"His parents came and cheered so hard for him."
"Bro, I feel bad for you. Somebody told you you're a lot better than you really are."
"There's something about being a brown kid whose parents...no matter what you do you're never enough."
"For him, the very fact that he made the team: his mom was making cake, she was wearing his jersey, she had a cap made for him. You know the type."
Jesus. Who wrote this?
This reads like a struggle session for 12-year-olds in the special needs class
Not only is the argument utterly inconsistent with the 2nd amendment and current caselaw the rhetoric is infantile
JT retweeted
On the night of October 1, 2017, a twenty-nine-year-old former U.S. Marine named Taylor Winston stole a white Ford F-150 pickup truck in Las Vegas.
By sunrise, that stolen truck had saved thirty human lives.
Winston, an Iraq War veteran, was dancing at the Route 91 Harvest country music festival when automatic rifle fire began raining down from the thirty-second floor of the Mandalay Bay hotel into a crowd of twenty-two thousand people.
After throwing his girlfriend over a fence to safety, Winston ran into the gravel parking lot right next to the kill zone.
Why did he not simply wait for ambulances to arrive? Because police perimeters and twenty thousand fleeing people had gridlocked the Strip, and victims with arterial gunshot wounds were bleeding to death on the grass with minutes left to live.
Winston checked the doors of parked trucks until he found a white four-door Ford F-150 with the keys tucked above the sun visor.
He dropped the steel tailgate, ran back into the gunfire, and used Marine combat triage to load the most critically wounded strangers into the truck bed and cab.
With bullets still cracking overhead, he floored the gas pedal, wove through the chaos to Desert Springs Hospital, handed the victims to emergency doctors, and immediately drove the blood-stained F-150 straight back into the gunfire for a second load.
Across two trips, he delivered roughly thirty critically injured Americans to the hospital in time to survive.
The next morning, Winston tracked down the truck's owner and texted him: "Hey man, I took your truck to drive people to the hospital. How can I give you your keys back?"
The owner told him to keep the peace of mind, and an Arizona dealership gave the Marine a brand-new Ford F-150 of his own.
Uniforms come off when a Marine leaves the Corps. The oath never does.
🤖 Made with AI
The only bar Talarico frequents has a rainbow flag behind the bartender and Assless chaps on the patrons
JT retweeted
June 6, 1944. An American paratrooper jumps into Normandy in the dark and lands on the roof of a church.
By the end of the war he had been declared dead, held a funeral he didn't attend, escaped the Nazis, and fought his way toward Berlin in a Soviet tank unit.
His name was Joseph Beyrle. He's believed to be the only American soldier to serve in both the US Army and the Red Army during World War Two.
Beyrle was from Muskegon, Michigan. He joined the 101st Airborne, the Screaming Eagles. His buddies called him Jumpin' Joe.
On D-Day night his plane was hit by flak and he jumped early. He came down on a church roof, slid off, and lost his unit in the chaos. For a few days he fought on his own, blowing up a power station and cutting German communications.
Then he was captured.
Here's where it gets strange. A German soldier ended up wearing Beyrle's uniform and dog tags. That German was killed. When the body was found, the Americans identified it as Joseph Beyrle.
The army told his parents their son was dead. His hometown held a funeral mass for him. His obituary ran in the local paper.
Meanwhile, he was very much alive, being moved from one German prison camp to another.
He escaped more than once. One time he and two other prisoners jumped off a train heading east. They thought they were heading for Russia and freedom. They got lost and ended up in Berlin, where they were caught by the Gestapo, beaten, and tortured.
In January 1945, from a camp in eastern Germany, he finally made a clean escape. He went east, toward the gunfire. Toward the Soviets.
When he found a Soviet tank unit, he walked out with his hands up, holding a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes, and shouted the only Russian he knew. American comrade.
It worked.
He asked to join them. And they said yes.
For about a month, an American paratrooper rode with Soviet tank crews as they pushed toward Germany. He used his demolition training. He fought. He was reportedly welcomed by a Soviet officer who was one of the rare women commanding a tank battalion.
Then a German dive bomber attacked. Beyrle was badly wounded.
He was evacuated to a Soviet hospital. Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov reportedly visited, heard his story, and gave him papers to get to the American embassy in Moscow.
When he showed up, the embassy didn't believe him. As far as the US was concerned, Joseph Beyrle was dead. They held him under guard until his fingerprints proved who he was.
He made it home to Michigan in April 1945.
In 1946 he got married. In the same church where they'd held his funeral.
Decades later, in 1994, he was honored at the White House by President Bill Clinton and Russian President Boris Yeltsin for serving both countries.
And the last twist. His son, Joseph Beyrle II, grew up to become the United States Ambassador to Russia.
Readers added context they thought people might want to know
Joseph Robert “Joe” Beyrle had two sons. The elder son, Joe Beyrle II, served during the Vietnam War, but wasn’t a US Ambassador. That was the other son, John Beyrle.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Be…

























