Actor Chris Pratt just took home the’ Generation Award’ at the MTV Movie and TV Awards this weekend, but it’s his advice , not the accolade, that has the Internet buzzing.
Interspersed with inspiration, Godly wisdom, and a little humor, the actor delivered what he called “9 Rules from Chris Pratt, Generation Award Winner.”
Amidst some hysterical the recommendations on how to appropriately poop at parties, Pratt also made sure to point to God in several of his life-lesson rules( especially, numbers 6, 8, and 9 ), and it would be wise for the next generation to take heed.
“God is real. God loves you. God wants the best for you. Belief that. I do, ” charged Pratt, before also fostering spectators to pray and rest their flaws in God’s perfect grace 😛 TAGEND
“Nobody is perfect. People are gonna tell you you’re perfect merely the way you are. You’re not. You are imperfect. You always will be, but there is a powerful force-out that designed you that route, and if you’re willing to accept that, you will have grace. And grace is a gift, and like the freedom of the media we enjoy in this country, that grace was paid for with somebody else’s blood. Do not forget it. Don’t take it for granted. God bless you.”
Listen to Chris Pratt’s inspirational “9 Rules” speech in full below : strong>
Listen up! Generation Award win Chris Pratt has nine rules to life you need to hear.
Watch more of the 2018 Movie& TV Awardings at mtvawards.mtv.com!
Posted by MTV on Monday, June 18, 2018
Check out this rare color footage of the tallest person in recorded history, Robert Wadlow( 1918 -1 940 ), who stood 8 feet 11 inches ( 2.72 m) and weighed 491 pounds. This home movie footage appears to have been taken during one of Wadlow’s personal appearances in the late 1930 s.
I’m often on the receiving objective of the Trumpentariat’s criticisms of Never Trump conservatives.
Don’t I get it? Don’t I adoration how Trump is achieving the impossible, and soaring to statures to which no other president could aspire? Haven’t I get over national elections yet? When, oh when, will I finally MAGA? I received an email Tuesday from a Trump fan asking why for once I couldn’t congratulate Donald Trump for his work with North Korea.
Leaving aside my usual critiques of Trump, which are, as you may have noticed, colorful, varied, and pointed, let’s give the president a fair assessment of his week’s activities, and thanks and credit where thanks and credit are due.
Of course, “were starting” when Trump fled the humid confines of Washington , D.C ., jetting to Quebec to blow up the G7 summit and take a massive political and rhetorical dump on some of our longest-standing and closest friends. But I’m playing nice, so thank you, Mr. President, for adopting 19 th-century trade policies that blend both raging economic illiteracy and unavoidably adverse outcomes for America. Well done.
Thank you, because nothing mentions Presidential Stature like your juvenile dick-waving and insults attacking the heads of government of the G7 commonwealths. Thanks are also in order for deploying your clown-car motorcade of loudmouth, shock-jock aides to attain the damage worse.
Great work taking guidance from the Home Office in Moscow; you invested more hour at the G7 summit doing Vladimir Putin’s bidding than you did strengthening the ties between the United States and our closest friends.
Even so, I’m supposed to thank the president, right? Well, thank you, Donald. You mailed a message to our allies in Asia and beyond that you’re willing to compromise their security and ours for an inconsequential photo-op with a hopped-up fatboy dictator who looks like Pyongyang already has a Krispy Kreme and a Popeyes, and he’s the only one allowed to eat in them.
Russia, Iran, Syria, and other bad actors want to thank you, Mr. President. You sent the clearest of signals that sanctions regimes, inspections, and verified denuclearization are no longer relevant in our brave new age of nationalist populist strongmen and Michael Bay knockoff videos.
Evidently, all the bad guys have to do is kiss your ample ass long enough and shower you with enough superficial kudo and they can play you like the trifling intellectual lightweight you most certainly are. So, thank you for that reminder.
Nobel Prizes may have been dancing in your brain on your way to Singapore, and perhaps the Nobel Committee will fire up the forge and cast you an extra super-glitzy giant prize, out of gratitude. Perhaps the award will make up for the fact Kim Jong Un took away every single thing he wanted from this meeting, including the propaganda takeover of all propaganda coups.
Ever wonder what the consequences of legitimizing a nuclear-armed loony who has used chemical weapons on his own family, starved his people, and shall include participation in systematic mass murder to retain power might be? Congratulation! You’re about to find out. Us too.
Evidently, the aim of the trip was to produce a communique so shallow, meaningless, and ephemeral that its contents were a combination of already-broken DPRK agreements and back-of-the-envelope wishcasting. Our South Korean allies may seem freaked out, but it’s just their lane of appreciating you.
Well done, Mr. President. You got your on-camera handshake with a humankind who orders the deaths of children. You got your lunch with one of the few remaining dictators on this earth and set the Leader of the Free World on these levels as a hereditary thug who killed his half-brother with chemical weapons.
Good job, Mr. President. You’ve terrified our allies with your cavalier and sloppy art-of-the-moron negotiating style. You’ve told American troops who will remain on the Korean Peninsula they’re no longer going to practice with their Korean equivalents as a discouraging to the North’s long, long history of aggression. I’m sure if the balloon goes up, they’ll thank you for stopping their exercises.
Mission accomplished, Mr. President. You’ve determined your devotees up for a spectacular comedown when North Korea does what it always does. Right now, they’re cheering themselves hoarse, dancing in the street, and belief to the bottom of their deplorable little hearts that you’ve denuclearized North Korea, brought Kim to heel, undo the cruelties done in the Hermit Kingdom for generations, and started building Trump Tower Pyongyang.
Hats off to you, Mr. President. You’ve cut the sinews of a strategic confederation with Japan and South Korea that has contained North Korea, and maintained a brake on Chinese power in the Western Pacific.
Thank you, Mr. President, for reminding us that Kim Jong Un is talented. I couldn’t is all very well. He’s talented at killing his uncles, half-brothers, cousins, and countrymen with poison, anti-aircraft firearms, chemical weapons, and flamethrowers. He’s talented at depriving his people, systematically reducing their life expectancy, health, and even height because of the chronic malnutrition his evil policies entail. He’s talented like “his fathers” and grandpa before him at rooking Western leaders. They’re talented at proposing deals they never had the slightest intent of keeping.
Heckuva job, Mr. President. No matter what a weapons-grade dumpster fire this week generated, you’re safe from congressional oversight, but you know that by now. Nothing you do matters to this Congress. No is important that damage you impose on our economy, our confederations, trade, our stature in the world, our role as an exemplar of democratic values, our ability to serve as an honest broker in the international community, and our security, Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell will lay supine before you.( Supine is that post you typically have to pay for, hoss .)
Their evident, constant terror at running afoul of your volcanic mood, lunatic adherents, and media cheer squad mutes their tongues and stays their hands even when they should know better. They should panic a world where America is isolated, mistrusted, and weaker economically, morally, and politically. They should worry the acid dripping of your rhetorical and moral poison reduces American power and influence.
Instead, they fear their own chairwoman, hiding behind furrowed foreheads and elliptical, mealymouthed express of grave concern.
So congratulations, Mr. President. You expended the week purposely wrecking American alliances and leadership, allied yourself with one of the most egregious foes of liberty in the world, and abandoned the shared values of our friends like Canada, France, the United kingdom government, Japan, and Germany.
You must be so proud.
Imagine singing an emotional duet to “Let It Be” in the car with the man who wrote it.
That little pail listing item was ticked by James Corden, who fell the full instalment of “Carpool Karaoke” featuring legendary Beatle Paul McCartney on Thursday night’s The Late Late Show . em>
A jolly good athletic who genuinely looks like he had the best hour, McCartney operates through some of his most iconic numbers, from the thematically necessary “Drive My Car, ” to “Penny Lane, ” and the first song he ever wrote at 14. Oh, and a little song called “Let It Be.”
Corden takes McCartney on a little trip down memory lane around Liverpool in the episode, including a visit to the legend’s former childhood home, and of course, Penny Lane, and it all ends in a local tavern with the pair singing “Hey Jude, ” to some astounded locals.
What a legend.
If a woman decides not to breastfeed her babe it is her selection and must be respected, midwives are being told.
The Royal College of Midwives’ new position statement attains it explicitly clear that girls should be supported if, after being given advice, information and supporting, they opt to bottle feed applying formula milk.
Although breast is best, often some girls struggle to start or maintain breastfeeding, says the RCM.
Informed choice must be promoted.
The National Childbirth Trust says females can experience unacceptable levels of pressure nonetheless they feed their children – from family and friends, as well as from people they barely know.