The Rinos & Rats are holding each other close. They realize how powerless they are over their own creation For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction The rise of Ultra Patriotism #MAGA... begets the rise of Anti-Americanism #DSA. Shits about to hit the fan, Bro...

Getting gas in Guam in 1995. Long ass day! Thailand to Hanoi to Guam to Hawaii. But one of my most cherished memories, repatriating the remains of 5 US servicemen who paid the ultimate price in the Vietnam War. We landed in Hanoi to take possession of our warriors. The Vietnamese were rude and dismissing, even after I paid them $50,000 in landing fees. In cash. There’s a picture out there somewhere. Me, hunched over, on the ground and counting out cash for a country who hated us. They interfered when we tried to honor our dead as we loaded them onto the airplane. The “Dignified Transfer” was not dignified. We departed, finally, and landed in Guam for gas. (I’m the crusty dude on the left with two of America’s hall of fame loadmasters and two great friends). We arrived at Hickam AFB, Hawaii for the official ceremony with family members. We hit our blocks within 30 seconds of our scheduled arrival time! This is pre-GPS and no navigator. REPAT15 was our call sign. One of my greatest personal and professional honors! Thank you @usairforce. 🇺🇸🔥💪

Trump didn’t silence CNN. He just stopped giving them a taxpayer-funded front-row seat after they spent two years treating his presidency like a scandal. If your “journalism” is mostly lectures and leaks, you don’t get the plane. That’s not fascism. That’s accountability. CNN is shocked they lost Air Force One access. Meanwhile they spent years calling a landslide winner illegitimate and then acted shocked when the White House stopped treating them like the official scorekeepers. Fake news doesn’t get VIP treatment. It gets the cheap seats it earned. The press pool isn’t a constitutional right. It’s a privilege. CNN spent it attacking the guy who just won big and now they’re crying because Real America’s Voice got the seat instead. That’s not an attack on the First Amendment. That’s the market finally speaking.

Sunday, make it a good Sunday with a story of a hero dog. On September 25, 2024, 84-year-old Keith Johnson was spending the weekend at his cabin in rural Stevens County, Washington, when his glucose monitor started beeping around 5:30 in the morning. His blood sugar was low, so he went downstairs to get some orange juice. Before he could get it, his 13-year-old rescue dog, Gita, wanted to go outside. Keith opened the door and followed her out a few steps. In his own words, “It was pitch black.” When he turned to go back inside, Keith suddenly became dizzy and disoriented and fell. He tried several times to crawl back toward the cabin but couldn’t do it. He had broken his hip and was lying there alone as the sun came up. Gita stayed with him. She came up close, lay down beside him and let him cuddle with her. After he had been there awhile, Keith finally asked Gita if she would go get help. He later admitted he thought he was basically just talking to his dog and indulging himself. But Gita apparently had other ideas. She took off. Around 11:40 that morning, Deputy Colton Wright spotted Gita sitting beside the highway a couple hundred feet from the entrance to Keith’s hidden driveway. He tried to get her into his patrol vehicle, but she refused. He checked her collar, took her picture and started asking people in the area if they knew where she belonged. Nobody did. When he came back, Gita was still there. This time Wright followed her, and she led him down the long, hidden driveway directly to Keith, who had been lying on the ground for nearly seven hours. When Wright found him, Keith’s first words were, “Boy, am I happy to see you.” Wright told him, “Your dog is a hero. She saved your life today.” Gita really was a rescue dog in every sense of the word. Keith and his late wife adopted her from a shelter when she was a puppy in 2011. Thirteen years later, when Keith was lying helpless in the woods and asked his old girl to go find help, she did exactly that. Tell me dogs don’t understand us. Thanks to @Paws_of_Science for asking me to find a good dog rescue story.

Can we please have this woman run for anything so that we can elect her and ultimately make her POTUS?

Funny how “violence is never the answer” has a dress code. Strangle your kids? Drive at an ICE officer? Stab someone at a track meet? Put a bullet in a CEO? They’re GoFundMe-ing you, marching for you, and demanding you walk free. Charlie Kirk talks on a college campus and gets murdered. The left celebrates, trash the memorials, and treat the anniversary like a holiday. If that’s “compassion,” keep it. America doesn’t need the bs. All a bunch of hypocrites.

You guys… I am trending. How cool is that? They aren’t mini donkeys though. This is incredible. Thank you for loving my new babies as much as I do!

NOBODY tells Americans this part of the story. March 11, 2011. A black, 30-foot wall of ocean swallowed Northeast Japan. Our government froze. The Pentagon had no orders. Communications were dead. You know what Captain Thom Burke and Rear Admiral Robert Girrier did on the USS Ronald Reagan? They didn't wait for the White House. They didn't wait for paperwork. They looked at the TV screen, saw their friend drowning, and committed the ultimate military sin: UNAUTHORIZED ADVANCE. “We’re going. NOW.” They turned the massive nuclear carrier full throttle straight into the disaster zone. Then came the hydrogen explosions at Fukushima. Radiation plumes drifted across the Pacific. Every foreign embassy told their citizens: RUN. The US Embassy ordered an evacuation zone: STAY 50 MILES AWAY. Did the Ronald Reagan turn around? DID YOUR SAILORS RUN? NOT. ONE. INCH. Nineteen-year-old kids from Texas and Ohio stood on a freezing flight deck, radiation detectors in hand, launching helicopters into blizzards. They hovered over submerged rooftops, pulling shivering mothers and babies out of the black water. When Japanese refugees were brought aboard shivering in shock, your sailors gave up their own warm bunks and slept on the cold steel floor. While the rest of the world ran away from Japan, AMERICA CHARGED STRAIGHT INTO THE FIRE. You didn't do it for a treaty. You didn't do it for politicians. You saw your friend bleeding, and you kicked the doors down to save us. Happy 250th, America. Japan will remember your boys forever. 🇺🇸🤝🇯🇵

They are home and everybody is fitting in nicely. They already came with names but I’ll be changing that soon. I still haven’t decided but I’m pretty partial to Lucy, Ethel, and Ricky! My other cows on the other side are waiting to meet them.

So were “wide open borders” a part of his plan YOU approved of @amyklobuchar? What a disaster he was and YOU propped him up!

Yeppppppp!!!! My brother and I just had to give that salt block a lick!! Watched the cows and horses do it, so we had to try it too!!!!! Never forgot that taste though! 💯😁🤣😂

That American flag isn’t just flying. It represents every Soldier who served, every family who sacrificed, and every American who still believes this country is worth defending. The U.S. Army Golden Knights carrying Old Glory through the sky is about as American as it gets. Respect the flag. Remember what it represents. Never forget who carried it before us.

I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this, except that so many of you have become my community over the years. I share things here much the same way I would if you were sitting in my living room, and this woman is one of the most important people who ever came into my life. On my first trip to Ireland in 2003, I was doing genealogy and stopped in the little town of Enniscorthy in County Wexford. I asked a woman in a shop if she knew where I could find a fairy ring. She told me most people her age and younger didn’t believe in fairies anymore, but said the man in the jumper pumping petrol might know. Well, first I had to figure out what a jumper was. I was looking for something like the jumper I wore to school, basically a dress with a shirt underneath it. I finally figured out that in Ireland a jumper is a sweater, found the man pumping petrol and asked him about a fairy ring. He told me I needed to find a woman named Gretta and proceeded to tell me where she lived. Now where I come from, you don’t just drive to some stranger’s house, knock on her door and announce that you’re looking for fairies. But I was in Ireland, so that is exactly what I did. This tiny little older lady answered the door and I explained why I was there. What I didn’t know was that I had just knocked on the door of a well-known local historian who had written books about Irish history and knew more about that part of Ireland than I could have learned in years on my own. I have always believed that meeting was both fortuitous and divine intervention because that one knock on a stranger’s door changed every trip I would make to Ireland afterward. Well off we went the next day. She took me to one of the great fairy rings in Wexford, and before I went into it she told me to mind my step and follow behind her. She told me about the fairies, the Druids and the old beliefs connected to the land. She showed me Druid graves and places where Catholic priests secretly held Mass in the old days when they had to hide from the British. She took me to places connected to the old kings of Ireland and told me the history while I was actually standing on the ground where it happened. We went to Huntington Castle and walked with me through the famous Yew Tree Walk where one of those magical Ireland things happened I will tell you another time. There are places in Ireland where I can stand among those ancient trees and stones and feel something I simply cannot explain. Ireland is the most spiritual country I have ever been to, and yes, I have been to Israel. Israel was deeply spiritual to me because of my faith, but Ireland was different. Ireland was the land of my ancestors. There is something about putting my feet on the same ground where my own people were born, lived, worshiped, struggled and died that touches a completely different part of me. Sometimes Ireland has felt less like a country I was visiting and more like a place I somehow remembered. On another trip she eventually took me all the way to County Mayo to find the places connected to my McNally ancestors. One day I was walking down a street in Ballina, where my great-great-grandfather came from before leaving Ireland in 1859 during the famine era on one of the coffin ships, when an elderly gentleman came up to me and said, “You are a McNally.” I had never seen this man before. He didn’t know my name and I wasn’t wearing anything that identified me as a McNally. I always tried to blend in when I went to Ireland, and I didn’t do too bad of a job until I opened my mouth and everybody figured out I was an American. But somehow this man looked at me and knew. I still can’t explain that one. One another trip she took me into little Catholic parishes in tiny villages and helped me find the actual genealogical records of my family. She has driven all over western and eastern Ireland with me and shown me places I never would have known existed. I have sat in her home having wonderful tea and biscuits, and I mean Irish biscuits, not the big American biscuits we put gravy on. I have learned more about Ireland sitting beside her and listening to her than I ever could have learned from books. I have seen her every single time I have returned to Ireland, and we still write to each other. She once told me that she believed she and I had been friends for many lifetimes. I know some people reading this won’t believe in fairies or Druids or strange encounters with elderly men who somehow know your family name. Some people certainly won’t believe that two people can meet for the first time and somehow feel as though they have known one another forever. That’s okay. I can only tell you what happened to me and what I felt. I believe God sent me to her door that day in 2003. I went looking for a fairy ring and instead found someone who became the mother of my heart, the kind of mother I had always wanted. She knew my heart when I knocked on her door, and more than twenty years later she still knows it. This picture of us was taken at St. Mullins cemetery. She was doing what she has done so many times over the years, standing beside me and explaining the history of the place, the fairies, the Druids and the people who had walked that ground long before either of us. Maybe that is the best way I can explain what Ireland means to me. I traveled thousands of miles looking for my ancestors, stopped in a little town and asked where I could find a fairy ring, and ended up knocking on the door of someone I somehow felt I had known forever. Of all the things I have found while researching my family history, she was the one thing I wasn't looking for. And she may have been the most important thing I found.

😂😂😂😂🤣

In 1985, I called a Vietnam buddy of mine. We literally fought, back to back, on 20 MM cannons. He wasn't doing well. It upset me. My wife told, "Why not forget it? It happened long ago?" I stayed up until 2:00 a.m., and wrote this, to explain. It was the 1st time I opened up.

I'm a Vietnam veteran. Leftists think I should be ashamed. I'm not. I am proud. I'm old. Detractors think that's an insult. It is a blessing and a gift. I'm Christian. My soul is dedicated to Jesus Christ. I am a friend to Jews and Israel. I especially love the Jews who don't vote Democrat. I'm a nationalist. What OTHER nation could I possibly love more than mine? I support ICE. America is a far better place without third world rapists, murderers, sex and drug traffickers, fraudsters, illegal voters, and Muslims building a barbaric caliphate. I'm a Trump supporter, because I've seen the world, know history, understand the dangers of socialism, communism, Islam, anarchy, and corrupt politicians. I know a rich, intelligent, ambitious person can love, sacrifice, and do more for his country than a corrupt, leftist politician. I want an America that is free, capitalist, moral, prosperous, safe, and patriotic.

William Bonnie

REAL AMERICAN CITIZENS hope you serve EVERY DAMN DAY!

Did any of you wear Navy dungarees? For E-1 to E-6 they were the work uniform from 1913 to the 1990s. This was when I was stationed on Adak, Island in Alaska. One year remote--cold, cold, and did I mention, cold? We were patriotic young men. We defended the country because we were asked to and because it was our country. What happened to that patriotism?

We started following the crew of the Enterprise in 1966.