I found the worst seat for the World Cup at SoFi Stadium

Fan sneaked tequila into the stadium in a flask disguised as a mobile. Mexicans are light years ahead of us.

USA. A breakfast counter. The waitress recommended the biscuits and gravy, and when the plate arrived, I thought something had gone wrong in the kitchen. I say this with shame. The dish looked like a construction site after rain. Pale mounds. Gray ladle-fall. Speckles I could not identify. In my land, the eye eats first. A meal is arranged like a garden. This meal was arranged like weather. "Is it… finished?" I asked, carefully. "Honey, that's what it looks like." The man beside me was already eating his. He did not look up. "Just try it." I am a man who has charged hillsides at dawn. I raised the fork. I tried it. I must now formally apologize to the biscuits, the gravy, the waitress, the kitchen, and the entire breakfast tradition of the American South. It was magnificent. Warm. Peppered. The biscuit drank the gravy the way a field drinks rain — THAT is why it is shaped like that, you fool — and every mound I had insulted was a soft fold of comfort that my homeland, in eight hundred years, never once thought to invent. "Well?" the waitress asked. "I judged it," I confessed. "By its appearance. I am ashamed." "Everybody does, hon." Everybody does. A national dish that forgives you for doubting it. It expects the doubt. It waits for you on the other side of it. Do not judge the gravy by its face. Judge yourself, for hesitating. I order it every Saturday now. I no longer see the construction site. I see only the garden. It was a garden the whole time. The eye must be trained.

Let’s go USA! ⚽️🇺🇸

It was a bottle of booze, but I understand you have a narrative to push…

I’ve sad it before. I’ll say it again. The problem isn’t my photos. It’s fentanyl.

This is not sustainable. Plutarch warned us 2,000 years ago that the imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment of all republics. We have got to democratize our economy so that it works for all.

In an interview a month before the catastrophic Palisades Fire, former LAFD Chief Kristin Crowley was telling anyone who would listen what bad shape the department was in: "When it comes to my position as the chief of advocating and fighting for the safety and well being of our firefighters, that's my job to stand up and to say the fire department can no longer operate this way. We're understaffed, under-resourced and underfunded, and our Los Angeles City Fire Department is literally at a crossroads. So the maverick move is for me to stand up and say, the fire department can no longer do this," Karen Bass didn’t listen.

Saving LA - Phase III