Andy

The real Hussein Obama.

We need all America First patriots in Nebraska to support MAGA candidates and policies up and down the ballot this Tuesday 🇺🇸

R.E.D. Good morning. 46/81 It’s Candy Corn Day, Pumpkin Bread Day, Breadstick Day, Buy a Donut Day, and Speak Up For Service Day. It’s left hip replacement day for me. I’m ready for it. Pray, encourage & support. You are loved and we are Blessed. 🇺🇸

🚨 30 YEARS! Salim Said just got 30 YEARS in federal prison for his role in the Feeding Our Future fraud. Prosecutors called him the "undisputed architect." They say he ran a scam that claimed to feed thousands of hungry kids a day. FBI surveillance found about 40 people a day actually picking up food. $44 MILLION in losses tied to his operation. A $1.1 million home with an indoor basketball court. Luxury cars. The judge said he took Minnesota's reputation down with him. He stole from children. Good riddance.

A CREW DOG’S LIFE: Who can relate? 🙋‍♂️ 3AM on the flight line, and the world’s waiting like a caffeine-fueled adventure that doesn’t give a damn about your sleep. You’re going somewhere else, carrying something different, and you’ll do it again tomorrow. Move the mission. There I am, coffee in one hand, flight bag in the other, eyes still half-glued shut, shuffling out to our big beautiful C-141 or C-17 beast under those harsh ramp lights. The “bag drag.” The air’s crisp, the jet’s APU or power cart are already humming that low, throaty growl, as the jet wakes up for a global joyride. When it starts up, it barks at you. But that’s a good sign. And, the bittersweet smell of diesel exhaust and jet fumes. You grow to love it. I can’t explain it. It always felt like “home” no matter where in the world we were. Crew piles in: loadmasters cracking jokes, engineers double-checking the flyability of this metal marvel, and me sliding into the left seat thinking, “Alright, Lord, let’s do this again.” It’s inherent. Not a lot of creative thought required. The crew, like a group of ants taking orders from the queen, automatically dives into their respective duties and checklists like clockwork. No direction needed here. It’s symbiosis. We crank the engines, taxi out into the dark, ramp lights fading into a world of blue and white lights, suck down some awful coffee, tell a few jokes, and blast off as the sun’s still thinking about showing up. The possibilities were endless. Could be one hop to Ramstein for fuel and some bratwurst, next leg to Incirlik where the pita bread’s fresh, the hookah’s are smoking, and the tension’s thicker than the Turkish coffee. Buy your pistachios here. Then it’s “wheels up” again. Maybe Diego Garcia for a quick dip in that insane blue water and warm beer, or over to Yokota where the ramen and beer hits different at 0200 local. And where I met my wife. Skipping across continents like stones on a pond, chasing daylight, dodging weather, and hauling everything from the SEALS, to the 82nd Airborne, to nuclear weapons, to Thanksgiving turkeys. Hell, once I flew a single generator to Nouadhibou, Mauritania. And a bunch of liquor to American embassies throughout the world. You land in one country for thirty minutes, grab a weird local snack that’ll haunt your stomach for days, chat with the ground crew in broken English and hand signals, sign some funky foreign forms pretending to know what they were, then you’re back in the air chasing the next sunrise. Jet lag? What jet lag. This is the life: stars above, stars on the flag on your sleeve, and the pure rush of knowing you’re part of the greatest airlift machine the world has ever seen. And we mattered, bigly. My country gave me a heavy jet and said “fly here.” It still blows my mind. No two days are ever the same. No two sunrises the same. Just pure, unfiltered freedom with a 🇺🇸 patch on your shoulder and a whole lot of “hold my coffee, I got this.” God bless the @usairforce, @AirMobilityCmd, and the greatest group of Airmen history has ever seen. Best damn job I ever had.