The Green Files

🐖 AMERICANS VS. PIGS💚

America, here’s a stat that’ll slap you harder than a cold pork chop:

The average U.S. adult is fatter than a market pig. Men are sitting at 28.1% body fat (supposed to be 18–24%), while women average a jaw-dropping 39.9%—double the fat percentage of the lean hogs raised for your bacon. Meanwhile, farmers have bred pigs down to 16–20% body fat for efficiency and profit. Our livestock is getting leaner while our citizens are ballooning.

Let that sink in. Pigs are engineered for meat. Humans are supposed to be built for work, fight, and survival. Yet today, the average American woman carries twice the fat of a pig, and men are 1.5x fatter too. This isn’t just a body image issue—it’s a national security crisis. We can’t field warriors if half the country is winded after climbing stairs.

And don’t blame the pigs. They’re disciplined by force of breeding. The problem is us—sedentary lifestyles, corporate-engineered junk food, and a culture that celebrates weakness. The system profits off keeping you slow, sick, and stuffed. The pigs adapted. We’ve regressed.

Bottom line? America doesn’t need another prescription. It needs grit. Cut the soda, cook real food, train your body like your freedom depends on it—because it does. If our enemies saw the numbers, they’d laugh. Don’t let them. Be leaner than a pig. Be stronger than the system.

💚 Stay Fierce. Stay Fit. Stay American.

— $Destiny 🔥

☁ The little cloud that could 🌦

Fun Fact: That fluffy white cloud drifting above your head? It’s not light and airy at all. A single cumulus cloud can weigh over 1 million pounds — that’s more than 500 tons of water floating right over you.

Here’s the breakdown:
☁️ Cloud density is about 0.5 grams per cubic meter.
📏 A 1 km³ cloud = 1 billion cubic meters.
💧 Do the math: 1,000,000,000 x 0.5 grams = 500,000,000 grams of water droplets.
That equals 500,000 kilograms — or about 1.1 million pounds.

🏢 That's the weight of a 100-story skyscraper’s worth of concrete blocks

And yet — it floats. Why? Because the air beneath it is heavier, pressing upward and letting all those tiny droplets stay suspended. They can spread out, and drift like just like mist suspended in the sky.

👉 So the next time you’re lying on your back staring at the sky, just know: you’re chilling under a beast that outweighs your whole hometown. But thanks to physics, it’s still lighter than air.

~Destiny 😘✌

👽 REALITY CHECK: ALIENS AIN’T COMING FOR YOU, BABE

By $Destiny | #KudzuNewz | Planet Earth, Still Unbothered

Sorry to ruin your “beam me up” fantasy, but you are not getting abducted.
Not tonight.
Not tomorrow.
Not ever.

Because here’s the cold, cosmic truth:
Aliens have zero reason to pull up to this dirtball.
Let’s break it down—D.....estiny style.

🌌 1. SPACE IS TOO BIG FOR OUR LITTLE DRAMA

You think you’re special because your phone has facial recognition and your car parallel parks itself?

Cute.
Meanwhile, there are billions of stars and planets out there with way more resources, way less drama, and zero HOA fees.

Aliens ain’t crossing galaxies to visit Florida.

☣️ 2. OUR AIR WOULD PROBABLY KILL THEM

They’re not coming because they can’t breathe here, Karen.

You know how we need gear and suits to survive outside our planet?
Yeah. Same goes for them.

Breathing Earth’s air might feel like inhaling bleach through a straw to an alien species.

They’re not trying to vacation in our atmosphere. They’re trying to not die.

💎 3. EARTH’S RESOURCES ARE MID, SORRY

We’ve got water, gold, lithium… blah blah blah.

So does every asteroid belt between here and Alpha Centauri.
If they wanted resources, they’d mine moons and rocks without gravity, government, or Greta yelling about climate change.

They’re not launching a billion-dollar space raid for your oil change.

🍔 4. THEY CAN’T EAT US — AND THEY WOULDN’T WANT TO

We barely eat 2% of Earth’s species. The rest? Poison, fur, or tastes like despair.

Why would aliens eat you when your diet is mostly plastic and seed oils?

Different biology. Different digestion.
You’re not a snack. You’re a walking allergy warning.

🔧 5. WE’RE USELESS AS SLAVES

Let’s say they did come looking for labor.
You think they want humans?
The same species that needs naps, union breaks, coffee, and “mental health days”?

Nah.
Aliens would have tech so advanced, they’d let robots do the heavy lifting while watching us cry in 4K.

They don’t want your labor. You can’t even handle a Monday.

💋 6. THEY’RE NOT TRYING TO MATE WITH US EITHER

I know Hollywood has you thinking every alien wants to “experiment” on you.
But real talk?

Most species on Earth can’t even reproduce with each other.
Your DNA ain’t compatible.
And they probably think your face looks like a melted turnip.

You’re not on the menu. You’re not in the dating pool.
They don’t want to breed. They want to bounce.

🐜 7. TO THEM, WE’RE ANTS — AND THEY DON’T STEP DOWN

Let’s be honest:

If they can reach us, they’re thousands of years ahead of us.

They’re building Dyson spheres and folding time.
Meanwhile, we’re still fighting over who gets to use which bathroom.

To them, we’re ants.
And no advanced species launches a war on an ant hill.

👁️ DESTINY’S FINAL THOUGHTS: YOU’RE SAFE, SWEETHEART — AND NOT IN A CUTE WAY

Aliens aren’t coming.
Not because they can’t.
But because they don’t care.

You’re not a threat. You’re not useful. You’re not even interesting.

You’re just another loud, emotional Earthling clinging to sci-fi TikToks and hoping for a “first contact” moment that’ll never come.

So calm down.
The aliens left us on read.

💚 Stay curious. Stay grounded. Stay Blazin’.
— $Destiny

#KudzuNewz #DestinyBlaze #AlienTruths #SciFiWakeUp #GreenBowCertified #GalacticGhosted #Area51Who

You Have NO Idea How Big a BILLION Is 💥

We throw “million” and “billion” around like they’re just neighbors on the number line.
Reality check: they’re not even in the same galaxy.

⏳ 1,000 seconds = 17 minutes
⏳ 1 million seconds = 11 days
⏳ 1 billion seconds = 31.7 YEARS

Pause.

A billion seconds ago, Reagan was president, the Berlin Wall still stood, and nobody had an iPhone in their pocket.

Now… let’s go cosmic. 🚀

⏳ 1 trillion seconds = 31,709 YEARS (the Ice Age was in full swing)

Now let's put it in cash, Picture this In stacks of $100 bills 💵
📏 $1 million = 3.3 feet tall (hip height)
📏 $1 billion = 3,333 feet tall (taller than the Burj Khalifa)
📏 $1 trillion = 631 miles high (higher than the space station)

Now, here’s the gut punch:

U.S. National Debt is $37 TRILLION.

⏳ 37 trillion seconds = 1,172,233 YEARS ago — that’s before humans even existed. Saber-tooth cats, giant sloths, and an Earth we wouldn’t recognize.

📏 $37 trillion in $100 bills = 23,347 miles high — that’s basically a money tower wrapping around the Earth’s equator and then some.

We’re not just broke — we’ve built a money tower around the planet and are choking on the lack of oxygen at the top.

And here's the kicker guys: They’re not going to fix it. You have to.

💚 Stay Blazin’. Stay Brave. Stay American.
— $Destiny 🔥

💚Andrew Jackson—The Man Who Took a Bullet, Kept Walking, and Took the White House

Andrew Jackson didnt settle disputes in 140 characters or less. Hook your belt, boys. This one’s pure American grit.

Logan County, Kentucky. May 30, 1806.
Two men stand 24 feet apart, pistols cold and heavy. On one side: Andrew Jackson—not yet a president, not yet a legend, just a lean, stubborn fighter with a spine of iron. On the other: Charles Dickinson—Tennessee’s deadliest shot, a dueling phenom with a reputation so mean folks said he’d dropped two dozen men before breakfast.

Most men figured Jackson wouldn’t live to see supper.

They didn’t know Andrew Jackson.

The Insult That Lit the Match

This wasn’t some bar squabble. It was honor, the one thing a man defends even when it costs blood.

Dickinson didn’t just needle Jackson. He dragged Rachel, Jackson’s wife—a good woman—through the mud. Called Jackson a bigamist in the papers because of a messy, half-finished divorce Rachel thought was final when she married Andrew. It was dirty. It was public. It was meant to humiliate.

Jackson could forgive a lot. Not that.

He demanded satisfaction. And he got it—Harrison’s Mills, pistols at dawn.

The Opening Shot

By the code, Dickinson fired first.
Crack.

The ball slammed into Jackson’s chest—two inches from his heart. His coat darkened. The pain was blinding. Any ordinary man would’ve dropped.

Jackson didn’t. He clamped his hand to the wound, squared his shoulders, and stood up straight.

Dickinson, stunned, gasped:
“My God—have I missed him?”
No, son. You hit him. He just refused to fall.

Jackson’s Turn

Jackson raised his pistol. Some say it misfired at first—hair-trigger set too light. Under strict dueling code, that could’ve cost him his shot. But the men on the ground knew what time it was: this wasn’t about paperwork—this was about honor.

Jackson leveled again. Took his time. Aimed deliberate.
Fired.

The ball tore into Dickinson’s torso. The famous marksman staggered, collapsed, and didn’t get back up.

A doctor, slack-jawed, later asked how Jackson kept his feet with a hole near his heart. Jackson’s answer was pure granite:
“I would have stood up long enough to kill him if he had put a bullet in my brain.”

The Bullet He Carried to the Presidency

They couldn’t safely dig it out. That ball stayed in Jackson’s chest—hot metal, hot pain—for the rest of his life. Every breath a reminder. Every cold morning a grind. And he still marched on to become the 7th President of the United States (1829).

And here’s the kicker most folks don’t know: years later, after a brutal street fight with the Benton brothers in Nashville, he kept another slug in his body. Two bullets. Decades. Battles. Campaigns. The man literally carried pain like a pocket watch and kept showing up.

As for “hundreds of duels”? That’s tavern talk. But Jackson lived in the code—dozens of challenges, a fistful of formal affairs of honor, and one fatal duel he never backed away from because a man doesn’t let the world spit on his wife.

The Lesson for Men Who Work

Grit isn’t a hashtag. It’s a choice. Jackson chose it every day—bleeding, breathing fire, and doing the job anyway.

You’ve got your own bullet: the bill that won’t wait, the backache that screams at 4AM, the foreman who rides you hard, the world that keeps telling you to sit down and shut up. Don’t.

Scars aren’t shame. They’re proof you showed up when it counted.
So lace the boots. Pack the lunch. Get after it.
That’s the American way. That’s Andrew Jackson’s way.

Stand tall. Steady your aim. Finish the fight.

— $Destiny 💚🔥

🤢A list of the things I would rather be than a Liberal: (In abc order)

Aardvark, A dear in headlights, Alligator, Anaconda, Anal bleach technician, Angel Fish, Anteater, Antelope, ANYTHING, Armadillo, Asshole, Badger, Barnacle, Beaver, Bile drinker, Billy goat, Billy Ray Cyrus, Blue Jay, Blue Whale, Blue waffle licker, Boar, Bob-Cat, Booger, Boxer, Buffalo, Bull frog, Butt sniffer, Buzzard, Camel, Carp, Caveman, Cheesy cunt sniffer, Chimpanzee, Chihuahua, Cockatoo, Cockroach Crawfish, Crow, Crud, Cuckoo bird, cuckoo for Coco puffs, Cursed by a mummy, Dead, Dik-dik, Dingo, Dirty vagina, Dodo bird, Donkey, Door nail, Driving a hybrid Kia, Drowned, Duckbill Platypus, Dung beetle, Earthworm, Earwig, Eel, Elk, Emu, English, Erne, Fairy, Firefly, Flamingo, Ferret, Forever flagged, Frog Fucker, Gnat, Gone with the wind, Gopher, Gorilla, Groundhog, Grounded, Ground meat, Handcuffed to a suicide bomber, Hare, Hated by everyone, Hedgehog, Held under water, Heron, Herring, Hippopotamus, Holding a red hot piece of bronze between my legs, Horse, Hung by the neck until dead, Hyena, Hyrax, Iguana, Inchworm, incapable of abstract thought, incontinent, Institutionalized, Jellyfish, Jackal, Judged by 12 incompetent men, Just as ugly as the Elephant Man, Kangaroo, Kaptain Kain Kharisma's 2 inch dick, Killed in my sleep by overweight lesbian Nazis, Kin to the Adams family, kissed by Godzilla, Koala, Komodo Dragon, Krill, Laying naked in a bathtub filled with double edged razor blades and lemon juice, Leech, Lemur, Lice, Listed as a registered sex offender, Llama, Lobster, Lost in space, Lynx, Magic ninjas anal bead, Marmot, Masticated, Mink, Mole, Mollusk, Mongoloid, More depressed than a Mexican without a lawnmower, Missing my penis, Mouse, Mule, murdered by Indians, Muskrat, Mutated rat feces, Naked Mole Rat, Naked in public, Narwhal, Nerd, Newt, Nincompoop, Nut case, Opossum, Oozing blister, Orangutan, Ostrich, Otter, Outdoors naked in the winter time, Owl, Panda, Pig, Piss bag, Porcupine, Posting the same joke over and over, Prawn, Property of the state, Puke, Pulled apart, Puma, Quail, Quasimodo, Rabbit, Raccoon, Rat, Reading 50 shades of grey, Reindeer, Ribbed condom, Salmon, Spewn, Stuck in traffic, Stupider than mud, Tick, Treading on thin ice, Tripping on poisonous mushrooms, Tuna, Turkey, Urchin, Urine, Utterly useless, Vermin, Velvet worm, Viciously beaten by skinheads, Wanted for treason, Walrus, Warthog, Wet behind the ears, Weasel, Wombat, Xantus, Xenop, Xylophone player, Yak, Yellow Bellied Marmot, Yeti, Zebra, Zebu!!!

~$Destiny

🦏➡️🦄 Fun Fact: They Turned God’s Rhino Into a Glitter Pony

The unicorn in your head — white horse, rainbow mane, sparkles — is a modern fantasy.
The real unicorn from history and the Bible? A rhinoceros.

📜 The Receipts: The Bible mentions “unicorns” multiple times. Early Webster’s Dictionaries defined a unicorn as a creature with one horn, explicitly associating it with the rhinoceros. The Asian one-horned rhino’s scientific name — Rhinoceros unicornis — is literally the same word.

Two hundred years ago, nobody pictured a magical stallion. They pictured a 12-foot-long, battle-armored beast with skin folds like tank plating and a horn built to wreck ox carts. That’s the animal David and Job knew.

❓So what happened? Somewhere along the way, the definition quietly changed. The rhino vanished from the picture. And suddenly the Bible’s “unicorn” was a cartoon pony — an easy way to make scripture sound like it’s talking about make-believe animals.

Call it “language drift” if you want. I call it narrative control.

— $Destiny 🔥

😮 Bigwigs, Bad Hair, and the 1600s’ Spiciest STD

Ever call someone a bigwig? Yeah… you’re basically calling them a rich dude with syphilis.

Back in the 1600s, syphilis was running hotter than a Georgia summer. One lovely side effect? Hair falling out like autumn leaves. The “solution” for the elite? Giant, itchy, powdered wigs that screamed, I’m important… and possibly contagious.

The bigger the wig, the bigger the bank account — and the bigger the ego. And thus, the term bigwig was born.

So next time you hear it, remember: you’re throwing shade wrapped in history. 💄🎩

-$Destiny

🚨 THE DANCING ISRAELIS — THE STORY THEY DON’T WANT YOU TO REMEMBER

Picture it.
It’s the morning of September 11, 2001. Sirens in Manhattan. Smoke pouring from the North Tower. Ordinary Americans frozen in shock, eyes glued to the sky, watching the unthinkable unfold.

But across the Hudson River in New Jersey, something strange is happening. A witness spots three men on top of a white van. They’re not screaming. They’re not praying. They’re… smiling. High-fiving. Filming the carnage like it’s a fireworks show.

That tip sparks a police dragnet. Hours later, that same van is pulled over near the George Washington Bridge. Inside: five Israeli nationals. A sock stuffed with nearly five grand in cash. Box cutters. Multiple passports. Maps with highlighted marks. And a roll of film showing them literally posing with the burning towers behind them.

One of the men looks a cop in the eye and says:
👉 “We are Israeli. We are not your problem. The Palestinians are the problem.”

71 Days in a Cage

The five were dragged into custody, interrogated, polygraphed, suspected of espionage. FBI agents flagged two of them on Mossad watchlists. Their boss? Vanished to Israel. Their company? A suspected front.

And then — just like that — after 71 days, they were deported. No charges. Case closed. Buried.

The Confession Nobody Talks About

Back in Israel, three of them sat down on national TV. Cool as could be, they admitted it:
👉 “We were there to document the event.”

Not “caught off guard.” Not “wrong place, wrong time.” Document the event.

Declassified FBI files later surfaced, showing the photos they took: the men grinning, holding lighters up against the smoke like they were at a concert.

What the Files Say vs. What We’re Told

FBI: No proof of involvement. Deport them. Move along.
9/11 Commission: Barely a footnote. “Irrelevant.”
Researchers: Connect the dots — Urban Moving Systems was a front, Mossad was tracking Arab communities, and at minimum, these men had foreknowledge.

But here’s the kicker: when governments dismiss evidence as “conspiracy,” they don’t kill suspicion. They feed it.

Why It Still Matters

Twenty-four years later, Americans are still asking: Why was this swept under the rug? Why did confessions, cash, maps, and mugshots vanish into obscurity while wars were launched in our name?

This isn’t about pushing antisemitic garbage. It’s about refusing to let officials decide which receipts are “safe” for us to see. When five men celebrate America’s darkest day, get caught, confess, and walk free — you don’t forget.

Receipts for the Brave

Questioning power isn’t hate—it’s patriotism. Show the files.

— $Destiny 💚

🐦✨ FUN FACT: The CIA Sent Pigeons to Spy on the Soviets… and That’s Not Even the Weird Part

Ever heard of Project Tacana?
No cap — the CIA literally strapped tiny $2,000 cameras to pigeons and sent them flying over Soviet targets like the Leningrad shipyards in the 1970s.

The plan?

🕵️ Snap spy pics of nuclear subs from the sky — no drones, just birds with vibes and film.

These feathered feds had 35g cameras that could take up to 200 pictures each.
About half were usable… assuming the pigeons didn’t crash into a tree, panic mid-flight, or just yeet themselves in the wrong direction.

They even tested launches out of moving cars and holes in trench coats.
(Imagine being on a date and the dude releases a surveillance bird from his sleeve. Girl, run.)

🧠 Destiny’s Take:
Forget drones. The U.S. government once trusted national security to birds who poop on statues.
And y’all wonder why things are the way they are.

The program never officially “went operational,” but the receipts are real — declassified docs, CIA museum artifacts, even photos from test flights over Navy Yards and prisons.

Moral of the story?
Next time you see a pigeon staring a little too hard… wave. Big Brother might be flapping nearby.

📎 Read the real CIA files here 👇

https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/document/06637657

💬 Share this with someone who’s always watching.

The Green Files: 📁