SENT HOME OVER HER HAIR, SO SHE CAME BACK IN A WIG!! Fair dress code, or a ridiculous reason to send someone home? A young woman in a fast food uniform says work sent her home because of her bright hair color. The text on the clip says her auntie had a solution, and next thing she's back with a black wig under her cap, grinning. I love a kid who solves the problem instead of quitting over it. She didn't argue, she didn't post a rant, she came back and clocked in. Now, I get that a business can have a dress code. But if the hair's tucked under a hat and she's ready to work, sending her home and losing a shift over it feels like a manager trying to win something. That's the first-job attitude I'd love to see from my own someday. Find a way, keep your sense of humor, show up anyway. Auntie deserves a raise.

I recently went to the World Humor Awards in Italy. It is split between competition/editorial cartoonlike cartoons and caricatures, and has a kind of caricature artist culture, so they spent a bunh of time having the attending cartoonists sit to do caricatures of the locals. That's unusal for me, but I enjoyed it. It was typically at a restaurant with lots of free drinks. This nice fellow, Marco Gambarelli just sent me a photo with the caricature I did of him as an elephant. See my Caglecast video podcast about the World Humor Awards:

On May 4, 1944, at 20,000 feet above the plains of Kansas, a 25-year-old woman crawled through a cramped pressurized tunnel suspended over an open bomb bay and climbed into the cockpit of the most advanced bomber on Earth. Her name was Mildred “Micky” Axton. In that moment, she became the first woman known to fly the B-29 Superfortress—the aircraft that would later play a decisive role in ending World War II. Yet for decades, almost nobody knew her story. The B-29 was far more than a military airplane. It was one of the most secret projects of the war. Massive, technologically revolutionary, and heavily guarded, the bomber was so classified that workers were discouraged from discussing it even with family members. Access was restricted, and every detail was protected. Micky was never expected to be part of that world. In 1943, she joined the Women Airforce Service Pilots, better known as the WASPs. These women ferried military aircraft across the country, transported supplies, towed targets for live-fire exercises, and tested newly built planes before they entered service. The work was not combat duty, but it carried serious risks. After months of demanding training, Micky graduated and became a test pilot. She evaluated aircraft ranging from B-25s to B-26s and eventually worked with the B-29 program. While many pilots worried about flying experimental or troublesome aircraft, Micky willingly accepted the challenge. Someone had to fly them. Only weeks after joining Boeing in Wichita as a flight test engineer, she found herself aboard “Sweet Sixteen,” the sixteenth B-29 ever produced. During a routine flight, she was monitoring engine performance when an unexpected invitation arrived through the intercom. The chief engineer asked a simple question: “How would you like to fly it?” Micky didn't hesitate. She secured her parachute and carefully crawled through the narrow tunnel running above the bomb bay. Emerging on the other side, she entered the cockpit and settled into the pilot's seat. For roughly twenty minutes, she controlled the giant bomber herself. She banked the aircraft, adjusted power settings, and felt the response of a machine that represented the cutting edge of wartime aviation. It was a historic moment. Yet she could tell almost no one. The entire flight remained classified. The chief engineer documented the event in a letter, but the record was tucked away and largely forgotten. What should have been front-page news became a secret known only to a handful of people. The story of the WASPs followed a similar path. More than 1,000 women served in the program, flying millions of miles in dozens of aircraft types. They performed essential duties that freed male pilots for combat assignments. Thirty-eight lost their lives while serving. Despite their contributions, they received no military benefits, no official recognition, and no veteran status. When a WASP died, fellow pilots often collected money among themselves to help return her body home. In December 1944, the program was dissolved. The women who had proven their skill and courage were sent home, and for decades their service remained largely overlooked. Official recognition did not arrive until 1977, when legislation finally granted WASPs veteran status. By then, Micky was already 60 years old. She had returned to civilian life, teaching biology, science, and aeronautics in Wichita schools. She inspired generations of students, shared her passion for aviation, and quietly preserved the history of a program many Americans had forgotten. Then, decades later, the secret resurfaced. In 2006, Boeing publicly shared her story, and the long-hidden letter confirming her B-29 flight became widely known. More than sixty years after the event, the world finally learned that a young woman from Kansas had been the first female pilot to fly one of history's most famous bombers. Recognition continued to arrive. In 2009, a restored PT-19 training aircraft was dedicated in her honor and named “Miss Micky.” When asked what artwork should appear on the aircraft, she responded with characteristic humor, requesting a flattering swimsuit image. The aircraft still carries that tribute today. That same year, legislation was signed awarding the WASPs the Congressional Gold Medal, one of the highest honors bestowed by Congress. Sadly, Micky did not live to attend the ceremony. She passed away on February 6, 2010, at the age of 91. The medal presentation took place just over a month later, and her family accepted the honor on her behalf. Mildred Axton never flew combat missions and never dropped a bomb. Her legacy was something different. On that day in 1944, she challenged the belief that certain cockpits belonged only to men. By taking the controls of the B-29, she demonstrated that skill, courage, and determination are not limited by gender. For the rest of her life, she carried that lesson into classrooms, airfields, and conversations with young people who dreamed of reaching beyond the boundaries others set for them. The recognition may have arrived decades late. But the path she helped open has remained open ever since.

sent 20+ of my normie friends their first $Jotchua bags and helped them set up @fomo accounts told each of them to shill $Jotchua to 10 more friends and tell those friends to do the same i’m scheeeeeeming. onboarding retail one shill at a time 👀

Germany has sent thousands of letters to Syrian refugees informing them that their protection status is being revoked, as the government accelerates efforts to return Syrians to their homeland following the fall of Bashar al-Assad's regime. During the first six months of 2026, Germany reviewed 8,320 Syrian protection cases, revoking or withdrawing status in 23.2% of them, compared with just 3.7% in 2025. Interior Minister Alexander Dobrindt is also preparing broader measures that could affect hundreds of thousands of Syrians currently holding subsidiary protection.

Texas officials sent tens of thousands of delayed voter registration applications to county election officials this week after discovering an error, sparking a scramble to process them weeks out from the midterms.

You've probably sent hundreds of photos with your exact location embedded in the file. You've probably "deleted" thousands of files that are still sitting on your drive right now. But now you know. 3 minutes. Free tools. No data leaked again. Bookmark this. Send it to everyone you care about.