Jeff Pleimling @Rocket_Jeff

We hear the comments about left lane drivers. Most people don’t realize that OCSO deputies enforce Florida’s Left Lane Law. During stops like these, deputies explain why cruising in the left lane is not just frustrating for other drivers - but dangerous for everyone. The left lane is for passing. Drivers who impede traffic can and do receive citations.

HeCheated.org is not just an X account. I operate a website that tracks male participation in sport for women and girls. This was necessary because neither athletic organizations or legislative bodies had made any attempt to do so, and for years, we have been largely left in the dark on the scale of this issue. That ignorance has allowed unfair policies to be written and outright lies to be spread unchecked. Yes, the site tracks ALL sports that are sex affected. Even in darts and pool, sex differences show advantages for males. If there is male advantage, even if it's a tiny sliver of one, it's on the site. Yes, the site tracks ALL levels of sport. All female athletes deserve fairness. The largest number of athletes participate at the amateur and youth level. Their wellbeing and their accomplishments matter too. Yes, the site tracks ALL competition sizes. Even if it's a small, local race, the women there deserve the same respect and opportunity males have to succeed. These "fun" events are only fun when they are fair. Losing unfairly is not fun. Yes, the site tracks ALL males. That includes males with DSDs who have been mistakenly "assigned female at birth." All males have an advantage over female athletes, even if they have believed themselves to be female for a number of years. Yes, the site tracks ALL years. Males have been in women's sports since the 1920s. The more comprehensive the database, the larger picture we get on male advantage and the impact even one male can have. The majority of results, however, are from the past 10 years. Yes, the site tracks ALL countries. Every woman on earth deserves fairness in sport. Many athletes compete across borders in international competition. Athletes immigrate to other countries. The majority of results, however, have been found in English-speaking countries, especially the United States. Yes, all results are linked to a source where they can be independently verified. Yes, all athletes are verified as male. Many can be independently confirmed with a simple Google search. If you have further questions, contact the site, as I do not link more personal family info in public posts. If you know of any athletes not on the site or see any mistakes that need correcting, please let me know. Knowledge is power. Arm yourself with it.

Because many people have been asking us about it: Our favorite states from the trip were Tennessee, Alabama, and Texas. Our favorite town was Fairhope, Alabama, and our favorite food spot was Taco Bell.

In Alabama a man said "Roll Tide" to me as a greeting. Later that same day, the same man said "Roll Tide" as a goodbye. I asked a woman at the store what it means. She said, "Roll Tide." I asked what it means. She said, "It means Roll Tide, sugar." So I began collecting evidence. I kept a list. I am not embarrassed about the list. I have now heard "Roll Tide" used as: hello. Goodbye. Thank you. I am sorry. Congratulations. That is unfortunate. I agree. I disagree. And once, in a hardware store, as a complete set of instructions for installing a ceiling fan. I heard it said at a funeral. It was appropriate. It was the most appropriate thing anyone said that day. I began using it. Carefully at first, the way a man handles a borrowed sword. I said it to a cashier. She said it back. I said it to a police officer who had stopped me for a broken taillight. He looked at me for a long moment. He looked at my face. He looked at my taillight. Then he said it back, and nodded once, and did not write the ticket. I wish to be extremely clear that I am not claiming those two events are related. I am also not claiming they are unrelated. A man at a gas station heard my accent and asked where I was from. I told him Japan. He said, "Roll Tide." He meant welcome. I knew he meant welcome. There was no ambiguity at all. I have been in Alabama eleven days. I have one word. It has been enough for everything. I have started saying it in other states. It does not work in other states. I said it in a warehouse store in Oregon. One man turned around. He was from Alabama. He said it back. We did not speak after that. We did not have to. I say it anyway.

A grammar book walks into a bar * An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television, getting drunk, and smoking cigars. * A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly. * A bar was walked into by the passive voice. * An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening. * Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.” * A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intents and purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite. * Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything. * A question mark walks into a bar? * A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly. * Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Get out -- we don't serve your type." * A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud. * A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves. * Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart. * A synonym strolls into a tavern. * At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar -- fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack. * A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment. * Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor. * A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered. * An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel. * The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known. * A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph. * The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense. * A dyslexic walks into a bra. * A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines. * A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert. * A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget. * A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony . – Jill Thomas Doyle

My neighbor, Ed, was ninety one. Lived alone. Had a cat named Mr. Buttons. Ed died three weeks ago. Heart attack. Quiet. Quick. I didn't know him well. We'd wave. Small talk about the weather. That's it. Two days after he died, there's a knock on my door. It's Ed's daughter. I'd never met her. Ed's daughter: Hi. I'm Rachel. Ed's daughter. Me: Oh. I'm so sorry for your loss. Rachel: Thank you. I'm here about the cat. Me: The cat? Rachel: Mr. Buttons. My dad left instructions. He wanted you to take him. Me: What? Rachel: He left a note. Said you were the only person on the street who didn't hate the cat. Me: I don't even know the cat. Rachel: Apparently you fed him once. I tried to remember. Then it clicked. Six months ago, Ed was out of town. He asked if I'd feed Mr. Buttons for two days. I said yes. I fed the cat. That was it. Me: I fed him one time. Rachel: Well, he left the cat to you. Me: I don't want a cat. Rachel: Neither do I. I'm allergic. Me: So take him to a shelter. Rachel: He's eighteen years old. No one's going to adopt him. Me: That's not my problem. Rachel: Please. I'll pay for his food. I just need someone to take him. My wife appeared behind me. My wife: We'll take him. Me: What? My wife: We'll take the cat. Rachel looked relieved. Rachel: Really? My wife: Yes. Bring him over. Rachel left. I turned to my wife. Me: We're not cat people. My wife: Ed left you his cat. We're taking the cat. Me: I don't want a cat. My wife: Too bad. An hour later, Rachel showed up with Mr. Buttons. He's the ugliest cat I've ever seen. One eye. Half a tail. Looks like he lost a fight with a lawnmower. Rachel: He's very sweet. She handed me a carrier and left. I put the carrier in the living room and opened it. Mr. Buttons walked out, looked at me, and hissed. Me: Great. For three days, the cat hid under the couch. Wouldn't eat. Wouldn't come out. My wife: Maybe he's grieving. Me: He's a cat. My wife: Cats grieve. On day four, I'm sitting on the couch watching TV and Mr. Buttons jumps up next to me. Just sits there. I didn't move. He curled up and fell asleep. Now he follows me everywhere. Kitchen. Garage. Bathroom. My wife thinks it's hilarious. My wife: He loves you. Me: I don't love him. My wife: Yes you do. Last week I took him to the vet. Spent $300 on bloodwork. The vet said he's in good shape for eighteen. I told my wife. My wife: See? He's going to be around for a while. Me: That's not comforting. Yesterday I caught myself talking to him. Me: You want dinner? Mr. Buttons meowed. Me: Yeah, me too. My wife walked in. My wife: Are you talking to the cat? Me: No. She smiled. I'm a cat person now. I hate it.

I submitted a requisition form for 3 49-inch curved ultrawide monitors. The total cost was $4K. Procurement rejected the request within 10 minutes. They sent a note saying standard protocol limits IT staff to 2 24-inch flat panels. I immediately drafted a 6-page manifesto on the dangers of peripheral tunnel vision. I emailed it to the entire C-suite. I explained that monitoring a dynamic cyber-threat landscape on flat screens causes severe visual fragmentation. I said when a hacker attempts a brute-force entry, the malicious code moves horizontally across the network topography. I told them that a 24-inch monitor physically clips the ends of the payload, making it invisible to the naked eye. I invented a term called "lateral data leakage." I claimed that without the parabolic curvature of an ultrawide display, our localized firewalls were essentially blind on the flanks. I included a heavily doctored heat map that showed our headquarters completely engulfed in red warning zones. The CFO walked into my office 10 minutes later looking terrified. He asked if we were currently experiencing lateral data leakage. I squinted at my tiny, inadequate flat screens and sighed. I told him I couldn't be sure because my field of vision was artificially constrained by legacy hardware limitations. I said I felt like a fighter pilot trying to fly through a thunderstorm while looking through a paper towel tube. He immediately bypassed procurement and authorized the purchase on the corporate card. The monitors arrived yesterday. I mounted them in a seamless 180-degree arc on my desk. It looks like the command deck of a spaceship. I'm not using them to monitor network topography. I'm using them to play Microsoft Flight Simulator in ultra-panoramic 4K resolution. I currently have the autopilot engaged somewhere over the Swiss Alps. I keep a spreadsheet open on the far-left edge just in case someone walks in. When people ask why the screens show a highly detailed 3D rendering of a mountain range, I tell them it's a topographical representation of our cloud storage density. They always nod in awe and slowly back out of the room. Never let corporate policy stand in the way of your immersive gaming experience.

Everything they taught you about July 4th, 1776 is a lie. The Redcoats weren't soldiers. They were something else. We recovered the real footage using Utopai 🧵👇

The imbecile poorly cosplaying a drill instructor calls himself "Instructor Mike". He posted this vid to FB, proud of himself. I engaged (in my normal polite fashion), and let him know that he was retarded, a disgrace to the profession, this isn't how people learn, and real instructors think he's a clown. Surprisingly this dipshit responded, saying this stress helps people learn to defend themselves (it does not). So I explained that's not how it works, he's a moron, screaming at house wives to stroke his ego, that woman is quivering and likely to ND and shoot someone on accident, and nobody with a brain, including the military which he is cosplaying as teaches this way. Instructors don't scream at recruits on ranges. That's the one place shit stays calm on purpose. Stress inoculation happens AFTER you've learned the skills, not during. Plus, his commands are fucking gibberish anyway, even if she was calm enough to absorb any of them. So then this fucking shit head had the gall to come back and cry about RACISM. People like me (you mean someone who was an actual professional firearms instructor who gave a shit about his students?) couldn't understand, because we'd all moved away from the mean streets of Chicago because we're white and scared and couldn't handle his bad ass swagger or some retarded shit I could barely parse. I laughed at this weak pathetic bitch move, and mocked him even harder, because I taught white, beige, brown, and black, never giving a fuck. And if his students are living in a place that's so dangerous, then he's got an even greater responsibility to teach them well. At this point I was curious and me and a bunch of my regulars started digging into his other videos to see just how full of shit this dork ass loser bitch, Instructor Mike, really is. He's got lots of stuff where he's screaming at poor housewives. Lots of posturing. Lots of retarded pontificating about how bad ass he is. Vague innuendo about his actual experience and background (more on that in a moment). But shocker, not a single video of him actually shooting so you can see how good he is. That's a giant fucking tell. Then one of my guys found a video of this fucker actually demonstrating something. It wasn't live fire. He was demoing his draw stroke from concealed AIWB. And of course the video is in slow motion, as he's pontificating about how sometimes even a bad ass like himself has to record his training for analysis. Cool. I've worked with some of the best diagnostic shooting coaches in the world, let's take a look... HOLY FUCKBALLS. Instructor Mike sucks donkey dick. The actual draw was fumbly with a bunch of unnecessary theatrical movement, pretty typical newb stuff, and the slow mo and no timer you can't tell how fast he actually is, but from the slop I'm guessing it was a sluggish 1.7 or so. Not total dogshit (assuming dumbass actually saw his dot) but not something anybody worth a shit would brag about on video. BUT THEN retard went to holster, and that's when he tells on himself. Fucker clears his cover garment with his off hand. Then has to let go of it, to grab his holster with his off hand, muzzling himself. :D And he doesn't even move his hips or leg so when he does inevitably ND, he's going to put it through his pelvis. (I bet if I was yelling in his ear the way he's screaming at this poor lady while he was holstering like that during live fire he'd plug his dumb ass) Guys, holstering like that is such a rookie tell that he's not just dumb and wrong, but he's never been taught right. So I asked him what his resume was? Any other "instructor" should be able to tell you where they learned, who taught them, what's their experience, what classes have they taken, and if they compete, in what sports and what their classification there was. That's when the chickenshit pussy blocked me. :D And we all know why. Later I was in a group chat with some instructors and industry guys, and it turned out I was only the latest block of MANY. Anybody with a clue who challenges Instructor Mike on his credentials gets blocked and the posts deleted so he can control his image and keep selling this silly crap to gullible dorks. (his happy customers are the same kind of people who bought Count Dante's book on how to perform the Dim Mak Death Touch and believed it) :D When asked, Instructor Mike says that he was both "military" and "LEO" but he's never said where and with who as far as anyone knows, and most people who've done either assume he's lying or exaggerating. The fucker is also in pictures wearing unit patches on his plate carrier (101st Airborne), but I couldn't see where he actually says that anywhere. But no, that is not how the Army teaches shooting. It's how morons think they do because they watched Full Metal Jacket. Gullible low IQ retards watch shit like this and say "oh that stress is how you learn to survive gun fights!" and then Instructor Mike sells them t-shirts. Nope. You're wrong and ignorant. There's a reason nobody teaches newbs this way. This isn't bad ass. It's retarded. Beware of frauds. If you're in a class and the instructor is behaving like this, grab your stuff and get the fuck out, fast as you can.

𝙼𝚁. 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 @MrLeadslinger

2 months ago

This is just another type of range theatrics. All bad instructors rely on range theatrics to mask their poor skills and teaching abilities.

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Received a message that my recent cartoon about the Henry Nowak case has been banned on X for EU nations for “hate speech.” @elonmusk How do I appeal this? This appears to be a clear abuse of the policy by the European left.

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@pbstjohn @vintagemapstore Or Alabama/Georgia. I've driven through areas that they call urban/suburban and there isn't much there but trees.

@grahamformaine I do Nazi that happening. Anne Frankly, I think your chances of not being gassed out before Election Day by your own party are slim to nein. But it’s down reich heilarious that you still think you’re going to ride this train all the way to November.

🚨 WOW! TREASURY SEC. SCOTT BESSENT just DROPPED this line on Elizabeth Warren "45% of our small and community banks DISAPPEARED since the great financial crisis. Senator Warren likes to say, 'Ooh! We might have a bank failure!'" "She KILLED 45% of the small banks!" 🫳🏻🎤

There is a restaurant in Texas where they bring you food until you tell them to stop. They do not tell you to stop. You tell them. I did not know a man could be trusted with such power. I confess I wept. In my country, when a host feeds you, you finish what is served. To leave food on the plate is to insult the hands that made it. This is not my opinion. This is the law of the table. So when the man said "all you can eat," I did not hear an offer. I heard a challenge of honor. The house was offering me everything it had. To stop before the house stopped would be to call the house stingy. I would not insult the house. Plate one, fried chicken. I bowed. I finished it. Plate two, ribs. I bowed. I finished it. Plate three. Four. Five. The house did not stop. So neither did I. A waiter came and said, kindly, that I could stop whenever I wished. I told him I did not come here to wish. I came here to settle a debt of honor. He brought a manager. The manager brought water. I do not drink water during battle. By the second hour, the kitchen had slowed. I took this as weakness in the enemy and pressed forward. By the third hour I could no longer feel my face. But a samurai does not retreat simply because his face has left him. They turned off the lights and closed the restaurant around me. I remained seated. Still chewing. The last man at the table. I won. I have not eaten since. That was eleven days ago. So tell me honestly. When the sign says all you can eat, who is supposed to surrender first? Because it will not be me.

I always think of this quote on memorial weekend.

Me: inside Japanese IKEA. already dangerous. that place designed like furniture labyrinth created by emotionally unstable architect. Friend: Just follow arrows. Me: There are TOO MANY ROOMS. we've been inside for two hours somehow, at one point I genuinely forgot outside existed. then we enter fake apartment display. tiny perfect kitchen, tiny fake plants, suspiciously peaceful lighting. Friend sits on couch, Me sits too. silence, Friend: ...I could live here." random old man already sitting in fake living room nods slowly. Old Man: Good airflow. Me: ...sir do you work here. Old Man: No. WHY WAS HE ANALYZING THE FAKE APARTMENT LIKE POTENTIAL TENANT. then his wife walks in holding meatballs. Wife: I found him again."l AGAIN??? apparently this man keeps wandering into display rooms and emotionally settling there. few minutes later we accidentally lost OURSELVES too. asked employee for exit. employee pulled out MAP. MAP. brother if your furniture store requires navigation equipment something has gone deeply wrong.

@donald4nh 9/ You can just do things (poast hilarious stuff online). They can't stop you. All they can do is give you a larger stage and a bigger megaphone.

Love this move by Ole Miss, they have hired @GadSaad to become a professor of American ideals at the university. Fantastic move. Hotty toddy!

Char on a steak contains heterocyclic amines and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons. These compounds, in extremely high doses, in isolated laboratory conditions, in rats, have shown carcinogenic effects. The doses used in those studies, scaled to human equivalents, would require you to consume the charred outer crust of approximately several thousand steaks per day for the rest of your life. Humans have been cooking meat over open fire for somewhere between two hundred thousand and a million years. The crust on a roasted joint, the bark on a brisket, the blackened edges of a chop pulled from the embers: this is the food our species was built around. If burnt-edge beef caused cancer at the rate the headlines imply, we would not be here to read the headlines. Eat the steak. Enjoy the crust.

The public has a distorted view of science, because children are taught in school that science is a collection of firmly established truths. In fact, science is not a collection of truths. It is a continuing exploration of mysteries. - Freeman Dyson