Won’t get fooled again.

Needs further corroboration but FFS if true.

They signed MOU, per Vance, and still haven't released text.

FACT CHECK: Nearly 70% of ICE arrests are criminal illegal aliens charged or convicted of a crime in the U.S. Many of the individuals the media counts as 'non-criminals' are actually terrorists, human rights abusers, and foreign fugitives who just don't have a rap sheet in the U.S. We are going after the worst of the worst, including gang members, pedophiles, and rapists.

It is true this is not a Deal, but a pre-deal. Yet if it means some sanctions relief or access to Emirati-held funds, it essentially adopts Iran's toll system for the Straits, but just as a lump-sum season ticket. If it includes anything about Lebanon, it concedes the ICRC's dominion over it in an unprecedented way.

Only in Türkiye, kids, only in Türkiye.

Solid advice.

This piece of shit had American blood on his hands. We used to meet with him in the prison in Baghdad. He played a deaf mute when he was first captured. He was responsible for the execution style killing of American soldiers. He can burn in hell.

Yup, just lie about the whole story now. That’s exactly how this spins into more antisemitism. It’s actually: - Kid applied for a job on Handshake - Employer messages to set up a time - Kid responds with times available - Employer follows up again - Kids responds “not interested in working for a jew” Nobody hounded him for jobs. He didn’t “find out we were Jewish and explain himself that he has had bad experiences.” Just read the conversation below and maybe tell the story the right way next time.

Back when when pretty much everything in life tasted great *and* was less filling.

A lot of the cultural cynicism about the US and international views of the US heading into the World Cup look really dumb right now.

Welcome to Israel, President of Somaliland @Abdirahmanirro!

Stateside, a gas station. I drank a frozen blue beverage too quickly, and was struck down by a punishment this entire nation knows, and accepts, and has named. The drink is called a slush. Ice, sweetness, and a blue that does not occur in nature. The day was hot. I was thirsty. I drank like a soldier at a river. The pain arrived in my skull like a war horn. Behind the eyes. Above everything. Total. I gripped the roof of my car. I may have made a sound. "Brain freeze," said the cashier through the door, with no urgency whatsoever. It has a NAME. The affliction is so common it has a household name, like a cousin. "Tongue on the roof of your mouth," called a man at the pumps. He did not look over. He prescribed the remedy mid-pump, casually, the way one mentions weather. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. The war horn faded. The healer nodded at his pump, finished, and was gone in a Chevrolet. In my land, punishment follows crime by way of courts and seasons. Here, the sentence is instant. Drink with greed, and the ice strikes the mind directly. No trial. No appeal. Perfectly fair. And here is what moves me. EVERYONE has felt it. The cashier. The healer. Children. Elders. An entire nation united by the same small lightning, all taught the same cure, all passing it on to strangers at gas stations, free of charge. You cannot fully distrust a country once you know it shares one pain. The freeze does not punish thirst. It punishes haste. I finished the slush slowly, like a scholar. Blue tongue. Clear mind. Then at the door I forgot everything, drank deeply, and was struck down again. "Tongue, hon," said the cashier, without looking up. Discipline is a journey.

The only thing I have to say when Israel kills some terrorist scumbag responsible for the deaths of 5 of my comrades is, "thank you!"

In 2007, the standards of living in the United States and Western Europe were similar, and most people don’t realize how much things have diverged since the US boomed after the global financial crisis and Europe didn’t. They don’t fully understand how we’re living and we don’t fully understand how they’re living; even when we visit Europe as tourists, we don’t see their tiny, sad flats and their depressing grocery stores. That is why Europeans visiting for the World Cup are going to, like, a Waffle House or a Taco Bell and losing their minds. Stuff we don’t even like or care about is wildly superior to everything everywhere else. We have no idea how rich we are.

JUST IN: Taiwan is reportedly planning a $200 million data center in Paraguay as it works to strengthen diplomatic ties with its lone South American ally.

Alonso's numbers at the plate this season are markedly worse than last year's.

Nothing makes me feel more patriotic than seeing World Cup tourists discover how life was meant to be lived 🦅🇺🇸🔥

Paging the Vice President of the United States...

USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving. Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free. I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these." "They just come with the table, man." They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner. This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat. I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared. "Did we…?" "Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless." Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined. My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude." Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man. I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy. Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived. I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most. Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.