and when I say giant cornucopia, I'm taking fucking huge. It went on sale, I got girl wood, I had to have it. 30% employee discount made it under $20. I couldn't walk away from it. It was like a man spotting a new tool at Home Depot. I got girl wood & HAD to have it.
I work at Michael's getting new shit isn't the issue. I already have a shit ton of foam pumpkins he's playing with. But I don't want to just not put out my fancy shit. For fucks sake I have a giant cornucopia that i fill & put on the thanksgiving table. WTF do I do with that now?
My grandson is 20 months old. My fall/halloween decorations are all glass pumpkins & old lady style decor. So now I'm trying to switch back to little kid decorations. WTF do I do with all my "fancy" shit? #grandmaproblems
I honestly have doubted myself all along the way, but knew that I could do more than just be a cashier. I decided to take the leap and I'm actually kinda shocked that I got the position and the huge pay raise (for retail). Also kinda proud of myself. I worked hard for this.
5 years ago, after some serious shit hitting the fan, I went back to work after being a housewife for 29 years. In retail. Part time, no benefits, low pay. Today I moved up to Sales Manager. Full time, benefits & literally a $7 an hour raise. My pay is now 4x what it was. 1/2
You know, I wasn't a Kyle fan, I was a Junior fan, but these whackjobs making up shit & using his death to spew fake Covid bullshit is pissing me off big time. They can't even spell his name right and are spewing total bullshit to spread rfk jr style propaganda. fuck em all.
so frustrated with my son's baby momma today. She agrees to one plan and then blows it all up the morning of Easter by changing everything and leaving me hanging with a huge Easter dinner. But I'm not surprised she did it. It's very typical for her.
I even included her grandparents in the plans & she changed the plan, had them show up 3 hours earlier than dinner & then left to go to her aunt's house for Easter dinner. After literally telling me and hour before they would be having dinner here.
too much nyquil and night time cold meds together. Just woke up from a very Freddy Kruger type dream. Woke up hollering my husband's name and biting my own hand. Was being choked & killed in my dream. Now wide eyed and in the living room with the tv on scared to go to sleep.
SteffFBomb retweeted
"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.
Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.
One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.
Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.
Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"
"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."
He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."
The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."
Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.
But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,
"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."
So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.
Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."
Let this story reach more hearts....
Credit: Mary Nelson
SteffFBomb retweeted
🏆🏆Brilliant take down … from the real Miss Piggy
Dearest Donald,
It is moi, Miss Piggy, and I am writing because you have committed a sin so grotesque, so tasteless, so fundamentally idiotic that even the Muppet chickens gasped. You called a reporter—an intelligent, courageous, unflinching professional—“piggy.”
Let’s pause, darling.
Let’s breathe.
Let’s let the stupidity of that choice settle into the air like the unmistakable scent of a bargain-bin cologne worn by a man who thinks intimidation is a personality.
You were asked about the Epstein files. A serious question. A necessary question. A question every decent human with a pulse should want answered. And instead of behaving like anything resembling an adult, you snapped. You barked. You lashed out like a startled sewer rat cornered under a bridge with too much hairspray and not enough self-control.
You didn’t insult her.
You exposed yourself.
She stood there in the truth.
You stood there in panic.
She held the line.
You lost your mind.
And then—mon dieu—you invoked moi.
You said “piggy.”
At a woman who was doing her job with more professionalism in one sentence than you have shown in your entire, overcooked, chaotic lifetime.
There is ONE Piggy.
ONE.
And she does not answer to you.
I built that name with talent, beauty, star power, and a legendary karate chop feared by icons and monsters alike. You? You hurl it as an insult because a woman dared to speak to you without bowing first. How fragile you must be to crumble under the weight of a question delivered by someone infinitely stronger than you have ever been.
That reporter showed courage. She showed integrity. She showed the world what a real professional looks like. Meanwhile, you flailed like a collapsing parade float struggling to stay inflated. You weren’t “fighting back.” You weren’t “being tough.” You were simply terrified. Terrified of a woman, a microphone, and the truth you keep trying to stuff into a closet full of your old scandals.
Calling her “piggy” didn’t diminish her. It diminished you.
It made you look cheap.
It made you look weak.
It made you look like a coward thrashing in quicksand of your own making.
And let’s be clear: A man who calls a woman “piggy” because he cannot withstand a factual question is not strong. He is not clever. He is not bold.
He is a big, loud, pathetic problem. A problem the size of a collapsing casino.
A problem wrapped in insecurity, hairspray, and whatever the hell those suits are made of—polyester? denial? both?
So here is your final lesson from moi:
The reporter you tried to belittle stands taller today than you ever have.
She asked for truth.
You served up fear.
She did her job.
You embarrassed yourself.
She kept her dignity.
You lost yours somewhere between the plane door and your next tantrum.
My name is not your shield.
My title is not your insult.
You are not worthy to utter the word “Piggy” unless you are referring to your own reflection.
Consider this your warning, your education, and your verbal karate chop to the soul:
Do not use my name to attack a woman who is braver than you.
Do not weaponize my legacy to mask your cowardice.
And do not mistake your insecurity for strength.
You wanted to shame her.
Instead, you shamed yourself.
Furiously, fabulously, and forever out of your league,
Miss. Piggy
SteffFBomb retweeted
New photo shows House Democrats in full attendance to stop government shutdown while the Republican side of the chamber is empty.
Could you do me a huge favor? 🥺Please accept my invite so that I can get free gifts
temu.com/a/9cRnvsUvfUmcffS
Could you do me a huge favor? 🥺Please accept my invite so that I can get free gifts
temu.com/a/DVyuVX7LtRI5H
SteffFBomb retweeted
Kelly Clarkson had every reason to walk away from him forever he betrayed her, took millions, and broke her heart. But when the father of her children was dying of cancer, chose to protect him. She shielded his journey in the face of paparazzi throwing her and shit at the wall hoping one of their “credible sources” had the correct storyline! She taught every one of you a valuable lesson here when she chose to standby him. Not because he deserved it. But because her kids deserved a mother who could rise above bitterness and lead with compassion. That is strength.
Some of y’all really need to take a step back and ask yourselves when we stopped being human. As I’ve seen so many of these posts celebrating Brandon Blackstock’s death, mocking his illness, and turning someone’s very real pain into a punchline. This is not justice. This is cruelty disguised as entertainment. You don’t have to excuse what someone did in life to recognize that celebrating their death erodes your own humanity.
Meanwhile, too many of you are proving exactly what’s broken about this country. Social media has trained us to talk at each other, not to each other. It’s all hot takes, zero reflection, zero growth. We’ve become addicted to being loud and “right” instead of being human. Everyone’s screaming. No one’s listening. And empathy? Feels like a radical act. You can hold people accountable without dehumanizing them. You can dislike someone’s choices without celebrating their suffering. And you should because karma doesn’t take sides. The same energy you put into mocking someone’s pain can, and will, find its way back to you.
Thankfully, her kids aren’t allowed on social media and I fully support that decision based on these “hot takes” alone. But someday, they will see this. They will read how strangers cheered for their father’s death. Now ask yourself: how would you feel if it was your kids? How would you protect them? Could you?
Do better. Lead with compassion. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. Because when the day comes that you’re the one in the storm, you’ll hope the world treats you with the same grace you refuse to give now.
This Post is from an account that no longer exists. Learn more
SteffFBomb retweeted
This is gonna be rough, let’s talk Ozzy Osbourne. Today, heavy metal lost its heartbeat. The world lost a father, a husband, a friend. And millions of fans lost the voice that got them through the worst nights of their lives. Ozzy Osbourne didn’t just change music, he transformed people. He reached into the cracks of this world where the forgotten lived and gave them an anthem. A reason to feel strong. A reason to feel seen. You didn’t just listen to Ozzy. You felt him. Deep. In your chest. In your gut. In the places you kept quiet from everyone else.
To the fans, this is devastation. He wasn’t just someone we admired. He was ours. He belonged to the late night loners with headphones on too loud. To the teenagers who didn’t know who they were yet. To the parents passing down his legacy to their kids. He was the spark in your chest when “Bark at the Moon” hit just right. He was the tears behind “So Tired” when life hurt too much to explain. To his family Sharon, his children, his grandchildren we know you didn’t just lose a legend. You lost the man. The one who made you laugh when no one else could. The one who, no matter how chaotic the world got, always came back to the people he loved. Thank you, for sharing him with us. For standing beside him when things got dark, when the press got cruel, and when the world demanded more than any one man should’ve had to give. To the bandmates, the crew, the lifers who shared the stage, the road, and the madness, thank you for helping carry the weight of what Ozzy built. You helped shape the roar of a generation.
Ozzy’s legacy isn’t just the platinum albums or the sold out arenas. It’s in every fan who tattooed his lyrics on their arm. It’s in the first time someone heard “You Can’t Kill Rock ’n’ Roll” and knew, I’m not alone. It’s in the goosebumps when “Mr. Crowley” starts.
It’s in the memories. The volume. The truth.
He showed us how to survive when you don’t feel whole. He gave power to the broken.
He made pain feel like rebellion and love feel like fire. He wasn’t perfect. He never claimed to be. And that’s why we loved him.
Because Ozzy was real. Every damn second of his life on stage, off stage, in interviews, in hospitals, through addictions, through recovery he showed up. For us. For his family. For his music.And now,
He rests. But the sound never dies. Not his scream. Not his laugh.
Not his truth.
Long live the Prince of Darkness. You changed everything. And we’ll carry you with us forever.
You Can’t Kill Rock ’n’ Roll!! And you’ll never kill what you gave the world. We love you, Ozzy. Always!! 💯❤️
#OzzyOsbourneRIP #HairMetalMessiah
@RnRNationlive @Rockdecades @TranJ87 @BerserkerBill @MadisonCarly26 @JosephGBarlow @808CWC @Drlove669 @GTAK_Weld @FreddieH73 @JenniferSi33633 @6969nyc @RockLovesMe2 @NatesHiddenGems @groovesvillewkd @dio0303 @ZakkWyldeBLS
open.spotify.com/track/2Gv8N…









