dazza ⚒️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🇬🇧 @dazzaroo72

Campaigning alongside Marlon West has been a real honour. Thousands and thousands of Greater Manchester patriots are backing this man today.

A UK town replaced 8 miles of mowed grass with wild flowers, saving £25,000 a year while bringing back bees, butterflies, and birds.

This morning, I went to vote and saw my name on the ballot—an almost surreal moment. I feel incredibly proud to be a candidate for @RestoreBritain.

I am proud to support Marlon West in today’s Greater Manchester mayoral election. He is a good man who has dedicated his life to helping others. I hope you will consider supporting Marlon and Restore Britain today.

Exactly..

Heaven has walls, a gate, and strict entry. Hell has open borders. Think about it…

🤣🤣

Just a friendly reminder that Sarah Connor was committed to a psychiatric institution after attempting to destroy AI data centers, a decision made because authorities believed her warnings about the future were the result of delusions.

That's control... awesome 💪❤️

Ann Widdiecombe was murdered 20 days ago. The mainstream media seems to have forgotten, and wants us to forget too. I haven't forgotten and will never forget.

I’m 💯here for the bromance between Rupert Lowe and John Cleese

I didn't need self-help books. I had a grandma who didn't sugarcoat anything 💛

I have doubts that we are even the same species as those who built these.

🚨 WOW! President Trump just announced he will be bringing this 16YO lifeguard to the WHITE HOUSE to give him a High Civilian Honor, after @EricTrump called for it THAT is a HERO 👏🏻 "We’re going to bring this heroic young man, and his family, into the White House with, perhaps, the boy he saved, to give him a High Civilian Honor. Very brave, he deserves it!" 🇺🇸

I believe that some cultures are better than others - @JohnCleese. I agree with John.

No kings. 😂🤣

John Cleese has been a really active X user and has now come out in an interview with The Telegraph that he not only supports Restore Britain but trusts Rupert Lowe more than any other MP in Parliament ! PATRIOT !

My grandfather had one rule. If you borrowed money from him, he would never ask for it back. Everyone thought he was being generous. They were wrong. When I turned 21, I finally asked him why. He smiled and said, "Because I already got what I needed." I had no idea what he meant. A few months later... I found out.

The word dairy is descended from an Old English word for a woman. That is not a coincidence. It is a receipt. When Harriet Cowan turned up on Clarkson's Farm, false lashes on and hair done, and proceeded to out-farm the presenter while telling him a 4,000-year-old fort was nearly as old as he was, a certain kind of viewer bristled, as though something ancient were being overturned. Nothing was being overturned. Her whole point, that women are farmers too, is not a modern slogan. It is the oldest arrangement in English farming, and the language proves it. Start with that word. Dairy comes from the Old English dey, meaning a female servant, a woman who worked. The building where milk became butter and cheese was literally named as the place of the woman. The language settled the question a thousand years ago and everyone forgot they had read the verdict. And it held for most of recorded history. In medieval and Tudor England the farm split cleanly in two. The men had the field, the plough and the heavy beasts outdoors. The instant the milk came inside it belonged to the women, and dairying was so thoroughly female that in medieval Denmark it was thought unmanly for a man to milk a cow at all. By Elizabethan times the writers describing English farming simply assume the wife runs the dairy. By the eighteenth century the manuals put her in sole charge of it. This was skilled, guarded, valuable work. A seventeenth-century dairymaid might answer for twenty cows and everything their milk became. Cheese recipes passed mother to daughter as what one history calls the secret knowledge, because good cheese and butter were things you could pay rent and taxes with. In an age when a woman could rarely own property, the dairy was one of the few corners of the economy where she made and kept her own money. The cash even had a name. Butter and egg money. The wife took her surplus butter, cheese and eggs to the store and came back with coin or credit, and that stream was hers. Farm records show women earning real sums from the dairy and the poultry yard in years the field crops cleared almost nothing. On many holdings the woman's half of the farm was the half that made a profit. Yet before 1860 she was not counted as employed, because she drew no wage. She merely kept the whole thing solvent. So how did farming become, in the public mind, a man's world? The same way women were written out of much else: the moment the work started to pay. In the nineteenth century the co-operative creameries took the milk the women had always processed and made the cheque out to the farmer, meaning her husband. Poultry was scaled up into a male-run business. The machinery came and was filed under men's work by default. Every time a piece of the woman's farm turned industrial and profitable, it was reassigned to a man. The stereotype is not the tradition. It is the residue of the takeover. Which is what makes Harriet on that tractor funnier than her critics realise. She is not breaking with history. She is the dairymaid the whole trade is named after, with a phone and better lighting, doing the eyeliner her great-grandmother could not spare the time for and running rings round a man who thinks she is the novelty. She is not the strange new thing. The strange new thing was the century that told her she did not belong there, and it is younger than the tractor.