Pinned Tweet
This week, the Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time Remake is coming out, so it's time to prepare!
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Trump's remarks on the caravan:
"The president is absolutely right. When you have caravans traveling through Central America and through Mexico these other governments need to step up and deal with it. If they do reach the southern border they're going to find a Border Patrol that is extremely ready. The president." @DHSGenCounsel
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SlothSlayer retweeted
🚨 #BREAKING: Jensen Huang is OUT at Nvidia.
Nvidia's board announced today that Huang has resigned as President, CEO, and board member, effective immediately.
The man who founded the company in 1993 and became the face of the AI boom is gone after 33 years.
Nvidia's board announced today that Huang has resigned as President, CEO, and board member, effective immediately.
The man who founded the company in 1993 and became the face of the AI boom is gone after 33 years.
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SlothSlayer retweeted
☀️ Good Morning, Friends! Happy Thankful Thursday! 🙏🔥
Another sunrise. Another breath. Another opportunity to be thankful for the countless blessings we sometimes overlook.
Today, I'm thankful for a God who never gives up on us. A God who brings light into darkness, strength into seemingly hopeless situations.
No matter what you're facing today, remember this: The fire of God's love doesn't go out when life gets difficult. 🔥
He is still working. Still restoring. Still lighting the way.
And that's what inspired today's song, "I Am the Fire." 🔥🎸
May it remind you that the same God who spoke light into existence is still lighting hearts today.
Have a blessed Thankful Thursday, my friends! ❤️
Keep the faith. Carry the light. Let the Son shine! ✝️
🎶 Holy Rif✝️ — I Am the Fire
Another sunrise. Another breath. Another opportunity to be thankful for the countless blessings we sometimes overlook.
Today, I'm thankful for a God who never gives up on us. A God who brings light into darkness, strength into seemingly hopeless situations.
No matter what you're facing today, remember this: The fire of God's love doesn't go out when life gets difficult. 🔥
He is still working. Still restoring. Still lighting the way.
And that's what inspired today's song, "I Am the Fire." 🔥🎸
May it remind you that the same God who spoke light into existence is still lighting hearts today.
Have a blessed Thankful Thursday, my friends! ❤️
Keep the faith. Carry the light. Let the Son shine! ✝️
🎶 Holy Rif✝️ — I Am the Fire
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SlothSlayer retweeted
Rise and Shine Patriots! It’s November 12th and President Donald J Trump is the GOAT! Have a great Thursday and enjoy the liberal tears! LFG!!🇺🇸🇺🇸👊🏻
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Good morning, everyone.
Happy Thursday, aka Friday Eve!
Another day closer to the weekend 🥳
Let's roll!
Happy Thursday, aka Friday Eve!
Another day closer to the weekend 🥳
Let's roll!
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SlothSlayer retweeted
Good Thankful Thursday morning from South Texas and the Gulf of America!
☕🫡🇨🇱❤️🤍💙🇺🇸
I hope everyone has an amazing day! 🙏
☕🫡🇨🇱❤️🤍💙🇺🇸
I hope everyone has an amazing day! 🙏
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SlothSlayer retweeted
Good morning from Virginia. 🇺🇸
On the 12th of November in 1936, the American people did what they once did as a matter of course. They threw a bridge across a great bay and opened a new road into the future.
From the White House, Franklin Roosevelt pressed a gold telegraph key. st, the green lights flashed on and the first cars rolled onto the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge. Governor Merriam cut the ceremonial chain with an acetylene torch. Herbert Hoover, engineer and former president, stood in the cold wind and called the span the greatest engineering work of Americans since the Panama Canal. Navy planes filled the sky. Pigeons and flag-bearing parachutes rose over the water. Horns and sirens answered from both shores.
It had been built in three and a half years in the depths of the Depression. Six thousand five hundred men a day had driven the caissons, spun the cables, and bored the tunnel through Yerba Buena Island. The western crossing was two suspension bridges set end to end, each with a main span of 2,310 feet. The eastern crossing was a great cantilever and a string of trusses. The deepest pier sat 242 feet below the surface of the bay. The tunnel was the largest bore on earth. The whole structure was double-decked so that automobiles, trucks, and electric trains could cross together. Seventy-seven million dollars bought a highway that joined two cities and turned a bay into a single metropolitan region.
Within hours the bridge was already carrying the traffic of a nation on the move. A Nebraska car slipped through early and was halfway to Oakland while the dignitaries were still making their ceremonial passage. By nightfall the toll booths had taken in thousands of dollars at sixty-five cents a crossing, and the Navy was sweeping searchlights across the new towers.
This was America when it still built. When its engineers still believed the impossible was only the next job, when its workers still knew how to finish what they started, and when its leaders still measured success by the concrete and steel they left behind rather than by the programs they announced. The Bay Bridge stands today as proof of what that people could do. The question is whether their grandchildren still remember how.
America 250 🇺🇸
On the 12th of November in 1936, the American people did what they once did as a matter of course. They threw a bridge across a great bay and opened a new road into the future.
From the White House, Franklin Roosevelt pressed a gold telegraph key. st, the green lights flashed on and the first cars rolled onto the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge. Governor Merriam cut the ceremonial chain with an acetylene torch. Herbert Hoover, engineer and former president, stood in the cold wind and called the span the greatest engineering work of Americans since the Panama Canal. Navy planes filled the sky. Pigeons and flag-bearing parachutes rose over the water. Horns and sirens answered from both shores.
It had been built in three and a half years in the depths of the Depression. Six thousand five hundred men a day had driven the caissons, spun the cables, and bored the tunnel through Yerba Buena Island. The western crossing was two suspension bridges set end to end, each with a main span of 2,310 feet. The eastern crossing was a great cantilever and a string of trusses. The deepest pier sat 242 feet below the surface of the bay. The tunnel was the largest bore on earth. The whole structure was double-decked so that automobiles, trucks, and electric trains could cross together. Seventy-seven million dollars bought a highway that joined two cities and turned a bay into a single metropolitan region.
Within hours the bridge was already carrying the traffic of a nation on the move. A Nebraska car slipped through early and was halfway to Oakland while the dignitaries were still making their ceremonial passage. By nightfall the toll booths had taken in thousands of dollars at sixty-five cents a crossing, and the Navy was sweeping searchlights across the new towers.
This was America when it still built. When its engineers still believed the impossible was only the next job, when its workers still knew how to finish what they started, and when its leaders still measured success by the concrete and steel they left behind rather than by the programs they announced. The Bay Bridge stands today as proof of what that people could do. The question is whether their grandchildren still remember how.
America 250 🇺🇸
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Happy Veteran's Day to all of you who served to protect our country!
We thank you for your service 🇺🇸
We thank you for your service 🇺🇸
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Good morning, everyone.
Happy Hump Day!
We're halfway through the work week, so let's show today who's boss.
Let's roll!
Happy Hump Day!
We're halfway through the work week, so let's show today who's boss.
Let's roll!
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SlothSlayer retweeted
Rise and Shine Patriots! It’s November 11th and President Donald J Trump is the GOAT! Happy Veterans Day and God Bless Our Veterans 🙏🏻🙏🏻🇺🇸🇺🇸🫡
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SlothSlayer retweeted
Good morning from Virginia. 🇺🇸
They were still on the water.
The Mayflower rode at anchor inside the curve of Cape Cod, a low, gray November morning in 1620. The air was raw. The ship creaked. Below decks the cabin was close and damp, smelling of wet wool, bilge, and the long Forty-one men crowded into that small space—Separatists and “Strangers,” servants and freemen—while the rest of the company waited above or below. Winter was coming on. Provisions were low. The coast outside the windows was not the one they had contracted to settle. Their patent from the Virginia Company covered the northern reaches of that territory, near the Hudson. Storms and the lateness of the season had driven them here instead, outside the bounds of their legal grant.
Some of the non-Separatists had begun to talk. If they were no longer under the patent, they said, they were free of its obligations. They could go their own way once they stepped ashore. The leaders saw the danger clearly enough. A colony that split the moment it touched land would not survive the winter.
So they wrote.
In the name of God, as loyal subjects of King James, they covenanted and combined themselves into a “civil Body Politick.” They bound themselves to frame “just and equal Laws, Ordinances, Acts, Constitutions, and Officers… as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general Good of the Colony,” and they promised all due submission and obedience to those laws. The document was short. It was practical. It named no distant authority beyond the King; it rested on their mutual consent. John Carver signed first. Then William Bradford, William Brewster, Myles Standish, John Alden, and the others—forty-one names in all.
They were not inventing a nation. They were trying to keep a company of exhausted Englishmen from coming apart before a single house was raised. Yet the act itself carried a larger meaning. On a ship far from any established government, ordinary men had agreed that their safety and their purpose required laws of their own making, accepted by those who would live under them. The original paper would later disappear. What survived, in Bradford’s hand and in the pages of Mourt’s Relation, was the record of that decision.
From the cold cabin off Cape Cod would come Plymouth, the first hard years, and a pattern of self-government that later generations would recognize as their own.
America 250 🇺🇸
They were still on the water.
The Mayflower rode at anchor inside the curve of Cape Cod, a low, gray November morning in 1620. The air was raw. The ship creaked. Below decks the cabin was close and damp, smelling of wet wool, bilge, and the long Forty-one men crowded into that small space—Separatists and “Strangers,” servants and freemen—while the rest of the company waited above or below. Winter was coming on. Provisions were low. The coast outside the windows was not the one they had contracted to settle. Their patent from the Virginia Company covered the northern reaches of that territory, near the Hudson. Storms and the lateness of the season had driven them here instead, outside the bounds of their legal grant.
Some of the non-Separatists had begun to talk. If they were no longer under the patent, they said, they were free of its obligations. They could go their own way once they stepped ashore. The leaders saw the danger clearly enough. A colony that split the moment it touched land would not survive the winter.
So they wrote.
In the name of God, as loyal subjects of King James, they covenanted and combined themselves into a “civil Body Politick.” They bound themselves to frame “just and equal Laws, Ordinances, Acts, Constitutions, and Officers… as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general Good of the Colony,” and they promised all due submission and obedience to those laws. The document was short. It was practical. It named no distant authority beyond the King; it rested on their mutual consent. John Carver signed first. Then William Bradford, William Brewster, Myles Standish, John Alden, and the others—forty-one names in all.
They were not inventing a nation. They were trying to keep a company of exhausted Englishmen from coming apart before a single house was raised. Yet the act itself carried a larger meaning. On a ship far from any established government, ordinary men had agreed that their safety and their purpose required laws of their own making, accepted by those who would live under them. The original paper would later disappear. What survived, in Bradford’s hand and in the pages of Mourt’s Relation, was the record of that decision.
From the cold cabin off Cape Cod would come Plymouth, the first hard years, and a pattern of self-government that later generations would recognize as their own.
America 250 🇺🇸
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