Glimmers: Good days fuel fight. Tips: Apps, teas, therapy. Hope in remission, chrono-chemo research. Fighters, share your stories—we’re not alone. Love to my fam—I’ll make it up. #OncologyJourney #HopeEndures

Family suffers most. Miss dinners, stories, hugs—guilt crushes. Kids ask why I’m “sick again”; partner carries all. Holidays in bed, zoo trips canceled, plays slept through. Isolation deepens, bonds strain. #FamilyResilience #CancerWarrior

Drugs mess with my circadian rhythm: wired from steroids one night, crashed the next. No clue when deep sleep hits. Mornings groggy, afternoons waves of fatigue. Science: Chemo hits hypothalamus, spikes inflammation. 80% of us battle this. #SleepDeprivation #ChemoSideEffects

Off topic but how does one get a bottle of lube that big? Asking for a friend…

Survival mode: 1 bite (1/10 cookie) per house = 200,000,000 cookies. Or only 1 in 5 homes leaves cookies: ~400,000,000. Either way, Santa isn’t jolly—he’s in a long-term relationship with antacids. #HolidayMath

Cookies: if EVERY home leaves 1 cookie → 2,000,000,000 cookies. At ~80 calories each: 160,000,000,000 calories. That’s not “milk and cookies,” that’s “the cookie singularity.” 🍪🕳️

If avg hop is ~1 km, Santa must travel ~17,921 km/sec = ~64,516,129 km/hour. Roughly 6% the speed of light. Rudolph isn’t glowing—he’s ionizing the atmosphere. ✨🔥

Stops per second: 2,000,000,000 ÷ 111,600 ≈ 17,921 homes/sec. That’s not “Ho Ho Ho.” That’s “H̶o̶” (motion blur) (sonic boom) (insurance deductible).

Forget the claymation reindeer. Real holiday tradition is forged in the vents, barefoot and bleeding for a reconciliation. It’s a time for miracles and gravity-defying villains. No one opens presents until Hans Gruber has splattered at the base of Nakatomi Tower.

The Nakatomi party is the ultimate cautionary tale. One minute you’re sipping subpar bubbly, the next you’re a hostage. It’s a vivid metaphor for the claustrophobia of family dinners. Honestly, the terrorists have a clearer agenda and better suits than your cousin Doug.

The music beats a scratched Bing Crosby record. "Christmas in Hollis" thumps in the limo, providing the rhythm for tactical survival. While your aunt hums "Silent Night," McClane duct-tapes a Beretta to his back, which is just a more practical form of gift-wrapping.

Consider the gift-giving. John arrives with a giant teddy bear, a peace offering for a marriage fraying like a cheap wool sweater. Then there’s the "ho-ho-ho" shirt on the dead mercenary. If a blood-red knit message isn't the height of holiday spirit, I don't know what is.

Ah, yes, a lovely shot of the southbound end of a northbound cat!

Yes, the right does not seem to get that the left is not protecting Clinton at all. If he is guilty, lock his ass up too! We do not like Pedophiles PERIOD

That was high tech back in the day

Voted yesterday sign up today, now that is government efficiency! 🙄

Add this rebrand to “Don’t give a fuck” section where “Gulf of American” is filed