Leaderboard
-
in all areas
- All areas
- Events
- Event Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Articles
- Article Comments
- Sticky Posts
- Sticky Post Comments
- Commitments
- Commit Comments
- Files
- Topics
- Posts
- Status Updates
- Status Replies
-
Custom Date
-
All time
March 25 2018 - June 17 2025
-
Year
June 17 2024 - June 17 2025
-
Month
May 17 2025 - June 17 2025
-
Week
June 10 2025 - June 17 2025
-
Today
June 17 2025
-
Custom Date
01/29/25 - 01/29/25
-
All time
Popular Content
Showing content with the highest reputation on 01/29/25 in all areas
-
My father died last night. He was 87 years old. It was his time. He was ready. I wasn’t. But then, I suspect that we never are. We only have one father in our lives and, if we’re lucky, he’s a good one. Mine was. I can’t think of my father without thinking of fishing. I love to fish, he taught me to fish, and I passed that along to my kids. But the most meaningful fish of my life is a fish I never caught. Now, anyone who has ever fished with me knows that the world is full of fish I’ve never caught (why, the laws of physics may even be bent; I may have not caught more fish than have ever existed). But the fish I’m talking about was a flounder in the summer of 1984 or so. I was a teen. Being that age, I had a particularly difficult relationship with my father at that time. As I grew into myself and worked on figuring out who I was, a good part of that exercise was me pushing back on everything my father was, everything he wanted, everything he said, everything he even thought. I was….an unpleasant adolescent. And my father did not bend to my will. He pushed back. He loved me enough to stand fast, and to make me hate him, because he wasn’t going to stop being my father, even if that required standing strong and letting there be conflict. There was a great distance between us – the greatest it had ever been and ever would be. We had functionally nothing in common. We could go weeks without meaningful conversation. But we had one thing – ONE THING – that we still shared; we loved to fish, and we still liked to do it together. So, reaching out to me, to try to hold on to that last, tenuous thread holding father and son together, he suggested we go on a fishing trip to south Texas, to the bay house of dear family friends where we’d had so many great trips before. I agreed, because hey, I loved fishing. We had a great trip. We ate giant chicken fried steaks at the Brush Country Inn. We fished from a lighted pier all night long, every night for three days. And we caught fish, mostly speckled trout. But one night, I hooked into something big. My rod was bowed, it was a fight to get whatever it was to the dock. We were going to need the landing net. As I fought the fish close enough for us to finally get a glimpse, we saw that it was a beautiful, enormous flounder. Truly, the biggest flounder I’ve ever had on the line. I maneuvered him to the pier, my father laid out on his stomach with the landing net so he could reach as far out as possible to net the fish. As he lowered the net into the water, the flounder turned, shook his head once, and swam off. I felt in an instant when he threw the hook. My father flailed with the net, trying to scoop the fish before he got away. No dice. I was laughing – because of COURSE the best fish of the trip just shook the hook and swam away. That is the way of fishing with me. But what struck me was my dad’s reaction. He flailed with the net, and had a look of real anguish on his face. Anguish that the fish he wanted me to catch got away. Disappointment FOR me. Not IN me, but for me. He cared. In spite of all I’d put him through, how much I had alienated him, what mattered most to him was seeing ME have success. After all that had come between us – and still WAS standing between us – he loved me. Totally. Completely. Unconditionally. It still took us a long time to heal, and grow back together, but as we did so, I always remembered that fish, and how much he cared. Through everything, my father’s love was an anchor. His love for me. His love for my mother – oh, how he loved my mother. His love for my wife – a relationship that was far from easy, but was bound up in that same complicated love that I experienced for a time. A relationship that drew upon her pastoral strength and presence, which when he needed it, at the very end – it was there. Given freely, with grace, and with a connection to the divine that, well if you know wife, you know from which it flows. And love for his grandkids. To a person, everyone I’ve talked to about my dad since his passing has mentioned how he adored them. How proud he was of them. How they reminded him of my mother, my wife, me, and sometimes even of him. To the end, he talked about how his love for them was what kept him going. What he loved the most about each of them was their kindness – their intelligence and their achievements mattered, but when he spoke of them, he always spoke of how good and decent they are. Which makes sense, as his kindness was his enduring feature. There are things I knew of and saw along the way. When a family member was in a bind, how money was sent to solve the problem, no questions asked, and no expectation of repayment. And mind you, we were not a family of any great means. There also are things I didn’t know of before – how they opened their home to a young man as he started his cancer treatments in Houston and needed a safe place to stay. Again, no questions asked – just sharing of what they had, being kind because – well, why wouldn’t you be? My father was a child of the border, and all that entails. Some of it was hard; he was separated from his parents often at a young age, because they weren’t going to send him to school in the crappy little Mexican ranching town they lived in. So he grew up mostly in Eagle Pass, with family. He found opportunity in education – a high school teacher told him and so many of his classmates that they could go to college, driving them to A&M – yes, A&M – in the local school bus to see the campus and watch a football game. He got that education, which let him live a life that took him on adventures around the world – his years working in Argentina, living in Buenos Aires with my mother, the two of them together living a life of dreams, was one of the highlights of his life. Indeed, my father’s story cannot be told – not even a little bit – without talking about my mother. The best things in this world are love stories, the real love stories, the stories of a love that is tied to your very being. Theirs was that kind of love story. My father was a freewheeling young man living in the valley, working in the oil patch. My mother was a striking beauty, but the product of a hard life of fleeing an alcoholic father, abuse, poverty, and betrayal. She desperately wanted a man who would be kind to her, and who could someday provide her the life she barely dared to dream of. They met. My father couldn’t believe that he’d met the beauty he'd seen only from a distance. And my mother couldn’t believe that she’d met a man who was so kind, and so devoted. They married having dated for only a few weeks. And they were together for decades after that. He gave her the life she dreamed of – a son, a home, safety and security – until she died three years ago. He was her rock. She was his love, his adoration, his heart. And dear God, did he miss her so. Every day. In the end, he was ready to go. So he went. On his terms. He was ready to see her again. I hope that is a thing, that we do see each other again in some beyond. In our last conversation – which I knew was our last – we talked of the universe, and stardust. And how we are at once insignificant pieces of coalesced stardust in a universe of trillions of galaxies….but that same infinite, incomprehensible universe cannot have its story told without speaking of the time that some coalesced stardust was my father. And some other coalesced stardust was my mother. And together, they found and fostered a love fitting for an infinite universe. We are in awe of the universe, but the universe itself should be in awe of love. We matter. Love matters. My heart is broken. My parents are now both gone. My children are devastated by loss. My wife is my rock, a guide and pillar for me as I grieve. And I am lucky. I am so goddamned lucky.66 points
-
62 points
-
Flexing your ability to travel to a country you aren’t a citizen of to take advantage of their healthcare services while bitching about immigrants abusing the system is certainly something39 points
-
Aside from the long hours, hard work, and low pay being reasons why American citizens won't be rushing to fill those vacated construction jobs, there's also the fact that construction is skilled labor. I spent about 10 years working for a plumbing contractor as a supervisor. We did nothing but new apartments. We'd have subcontractor piece work crews of maybe 4 guys that would do all the top-out and water pipe on a job. They could do an entire 8 unit floor of top-out (the drainage system) with 2 or 3 bathrooms per unit in a day. That's all the time they got between the framers standing up walls and another crew of framers returning to lay out floor trusses for the floor above. This work included drilling all the holes for drains and vents, putting all the materials in the building, installation itself, plus things like nail plates and strapping. The same top-out crew would later fall back to the more finished units and do the water pipe as well. They were also required to test everything for us to get our city inspections. The crew you had made all the difference in the world. They were elite, highly skilled workers that would require years of training to even begin to replace. Almost none of them were here legally. We also had specialized tub setters, gas pipers, ground rough crews, fixture setters. My job was pretty much to make sure the sub crews that did the actual work had materials and everything else they needed and weren't burdened by distractions like repairs or dumbass jobsite politics. Other trades like framing, electrical, HVAC, roofing work the same way and all have their sub specialties. You will never replace people like this. To me, the idea that you can take someone with no previous training, bring them to a jobsite, point to a pipe-threader and a pile of materials and have them install a bunch of gas pipe is the most absurd, disconnected notion in all of this bullshit. I'm sure it's much the same in all sorts of work that often gets labeled as unskilled. These work forces are built over time and new people are integrated into them as necessary. You can't have abrupt absolute turnover without a complete halt to production even if you had legions of willing workers.38 points
-
31 points
-
What’s worse than your average maga about sparky is he’s posting this vitriol while sitting at a dialysis machine getting a life extending service paid for by you, me, and the very immigrants he despises. I’d rather he just say thank you and go about his business. That or pick up a kidney and get to work roofing or picking lettuce. Either way, I don’t give a damn what he thinks he’s entitled to31 points
-
30 points
-
His main voting block is uneducated morons and they were always gonna suffer the most. I had no idea it would be this fast. I feel bad for the good people that voted against him that are suffering - for sure. But those people already knew this was on the way. His dummy supporters getting a swift kick to the nuts is fantastic. MOARRRRR30 points
-
Anybody else remember Kelee Ringo spending his spring break in Austin only to sign with Georgia? We aren’t even close to squaring the account with those bag dropping assholes. I really hope the adjustment for those cheating dickbags to their new station in life is as painful as possible.29 points
-
26 points
-
Yesterday morning Bobby reported that Kanu was "on his way to Georgia" for a visit. CTJ said that Georgia mods expected him to spend multiple nights there. Then he commits to us this morning. Did he literally commit to us while on a tour of Georgia's facilities? "Hold up Coach Smart, gotta send a text real fast. OK, you were saying?"25 points
-
24 points
-
I have less than a child's grasp on the basics of physics. I know that a ball rolls, generally. Pretty sure I've seen one bounce. Gravity and all that shit. But that's not what's important. What's important is that Trump is tearing down the woke, bureaucratic walls between us and opportunity. With trump in charge, I can finally become a tenured physics professor at MIT. On my first day I'd take the whole class out on jet skis. Chug beers and shout "Let's go!" in each other's faces about 50 times. Maybe suck some titties. It's time to get some badasses at MIT instead of all these nerdy betas. MIT is too soft on account of this woke, everybody gets a trophy beta culture. I came here to kick some ass and chew bubble gum. And I'm all out of ass.24 points
-
22 points
-
21 points
-
21 points
-
Fed here. This is exactly right. I read the email several times and I came away with the feeling "That's all you got?" I agree to resign later for no actual severance, I lose my health coverage and my pension doesn't start until I'm 60 just like it would if I didn't quit? The tone is like a bully trying to pressure me out, but I suspect they are starting to realize it's going to be harder to get rid of us than what they were promising on right wing media. Fuck you. If you want me out offer me a real buyout or fire me. I'm certainly not resigning and giving up my 17 years of federal service because of a strongly worded email.21 points
-
20 points
-
20 points
-
It’s really hard to decide who’s misery will make me the happiest. Well actually it’s pretty clear - the multiple small time construction company owners I know who LOVE them some Trump. The guys netting a few hundred k off the backs of illegal labor and thinking they’re one shitcoin purchase away from having Elon money. Have fun, fucktards.19 points
-
18 points
-
Justin Wells put in an RPM pick for Texas to land Jalen Lott.17 points
-
17 points
-
16 points
-
These type of posts never end well- but FWIW I inquired about Jalen Lott to someone very close to him (not related). My buddy told me Lott doesn’t prefer one position over the other. He said Lott wants to see the field as fast as possible, and Lott/Lott’s camp believe that could be on defense. My buddy didn’t say anything about which school was standing out, and I didn’t want to press. But he did say, all the kids love Texas and rep the gear. Some slight insight but nothing too crazy. I do like that Texas is a cool school again! Hook ‘em16 points
-
I think that’s a display of maturity and understanding rare in a 9.95er, so I give the dude props. We won’t win them all, but we’re a player, and if we can muster a championship soon, Death Star fully activated on the player acquisition front.15 points
-
I think around the same time Bobby said Kanu is "light in the loafers." Someone who knows Bobby should tell him that idiom doesn't mean what he thinks. He uses it often.15 points
-
Watched Tennessee and Texas He's not a play-maker yet mostly because he reacts slowly when the play is coming his way and he doesn't have much of a plan in pass rush, but he does a solid job of holding his ground against doubles in the run game against good competition. Another year of S&C and practice and even game reps should see him thinking less and reacting faster in-games, and perhaps then he'll be more productive Before I watched those snaps I thought he was a low floor high ceiling guy, but I think he can already play rotational snaps and hold up well, so he has a better floor than I was expecting. I saw closer to good than elite athleticism for the position, which is more than fine Played mostly at 1-tech, curious to see how he'd look moved around on the line Texas, Georgia, Florida, and even Ohio State wanted him for a reason15 points
-
All, thanks so much for your kind words here. The outpouring of love, messages, and kind thoughts from my father's network and ours has been amazing. And I've particularly smiled when reading the posts above about people who shared a love of the outdoors with their father or grandfather. And it reminded me of another moment I thought worth sharing. My dad gave me a broad love of the outdoors. Our first experiences like that together were actually hunting, on my grandparents' ranch in the Chihuahuan desert in Mexico. We'd go down and visit, and at least one afternoon, he'd go out to hunt desert cottontails. And once I was old enough to walk, I'd tag along. We have actual photos of me in a diaper and boots, walking beside him as he toted a single shot .22. We'd usually get at least a couple, and my grandmother made fried rabbit in a cast iron skillet that to this day remains one of the greatest things I've ever tasted. So I fished and hunted with him through the years, and loved the outdoors on my own. I'd hunt and fish with my friends all through high school, college, and law school. I mean, a LOT -- like some years, I was bringing home coolers of fish, hundreds of dove, dozens of ducks and geese. Then, the summer I was getting married, I was clerking with a law firm in Houston, so I was actually staying under my parents' roof again one last time. One Saturday that summer, my dad and I decided to head down to the west end of Galveston, to go surf fishing like we'd done so many times before. Like we usually did, we fished all day until the light had faded. We headed back to shore and the car. We leaned our rods against the car, each popped open a cold drink, and stared back out at the surf, listening to the rhythm of the waves. After a few minutes, my dad gestured out to the surf, moving his hand across the horizon: "This is a good thing I gave you, isn't it?" And I understood he was talking about fishing, hunting, waves, sunsets, fresh air, the whole thing. "Yeah, it really is." And now that's been passed down to my kids. My son took his first buck with his grandfather's 30/06.15 points
-
14 points
-
You guys are fighting with someone who thinks they are special because they know how frequent flier miles work.14 points
-
14 points
-
14 points
-
13 points
-
Are we sure this wasn't by design? Maybe he voted for Trump so his wife WOULD be deported. That's a great excuse on the new dating scene. "I'm single because my wife got deported. It's Trump's fault."13 points
-
13 points
-
There is one employee at TOF. She isn’t talking to Chet Ketchum or Chip Schlichter Brown. Outside of that, there are 5 board members. None of them are paid and none of them are doing the work required, or taking on the risk required, in order to be able to talk to Fatfuck and The Gambler. Some of the bigger money guys talk to some of the $9.95ers. They’d of course like to see more people helping, and TOF is a simple thing to point at for those who wish to help. A couple of these highly intelligent, highly successful, extremely helpful individuals trust Ketchum and Brown for some reason. They’ve been shown evidence to the contrary. Burton, Gerry, Nahlin, some of the MSM guys, they’re able to keep their mouths shut. Wish that was enough. It’s a bizarre headache on a regular basis that Ketchum gets ahold of something and then actively works to fuck everything up for everyone. In this instance, it’s one of those times where no one told Ketchum anything but he wanted everyone to know that he “knew” something. He had the “scoop”. Due to the fact that he is hippo fat, he cannot spot the rakes lying on the ground as he walks into them. It’s too soon on this one for anyone indirectly involved to know anything. It sounds like NIL was irrelevant here due to the guy not wanting to lose his visa and such. Beyond, the sausage-making is usually pretty fucking boring. Or just take comfort in that notion being somewhat true. There are plenty of reasons to avoid getting into details on NIL. One big reason is that we do not fully understand the ramifications in the future for the work and fights happening today.12 points
-
Allegedly Keys is legitimately interested.12 points
-
Y'all 'member when Michelle Obama merely suggested that schools offer healthier lunch options and was crucified as a 'murica hating communist? I 'member. These people have no convictions, at all, just R good D bad. They've literally taken the side of rampant disease.12 points
-
Elon/Trump create an outrageous narrative. Reasonable people push back on the hyperbole. Weird nerd jumps into the mix.12 points
-
That's maybe the worst take ever posted in the almost 25k posts in this thread.12 points
-
Look at this. This is what racist white trash looks like. He should be face down in a dumpster because he went on a two week bender after losing his job selling used cars. Instead he runs the defense department. This idiot, more than any other idiot in charge now, is emblematic of everything wrong with the United States. Mark Milley should be firing this guy out of a cannon right now for fun. Instead this living, breathing example of the lowest form of life we currently have on display is trying to inflict pain on a general because he had the temerity to say what a complete and total loser his god king is.12 points
-
12 points
-
Quick observation from yesterday. I still do some work in Indian Country. Tribal governments are heavily dependent on federal grants and loans to provide services to their people. Most of the big tribes yesterday made public statments about fear and uncertainty for the future of some of their more important programs especially for youth and the elderly. Most rural Natives in Oklahoma are MAGA af, especially the 1/16 blood quantum types. The vast majority of commentary in response was about how it's Biden's fault for bankrupting the economy, or some other nonsensical word salad about Biden, democrats, the economy, and the defecit. The thinking is that the freeze was necessary because of Biden. That is how these people think and why I have abandoned all hope for this country.11 points
-
It's a cult. Cults don't die until the leader does. Come on, hypertension, do your fucking thing. While Hitler was having 6 million Jews murdered, and the holocaust was in full swing, Germans were sure it was going on w/out Hitler's knowledge. They'll tell themselves whatever lie allows them to continue to suck his teeny little prick.11 points
Football ... Basketball ... Baseball ... Other Sports ... Futbol ... 🤫995🤫 ... Gambling ... Movies & TV ... Music ... Hobbies ... Lulz ... Food & Travel ... Daily Texan ... Business and Markets ... Cloak Room ... Help ... For Sale ... Board Discussion ... Subscribe!... Donate!... COOKIE MONSTER!