There’s too much green in Germany. But I think I’ve worst-said that before. Ranting onward, ho!
Translating the German f-word and feeling some cumuppance. And so. Another example of living-the-dream in #eurowasteland with Margo Honecker’s Germania-galore protege Merkel and the aristocrats with all the inherited money that afford us park benches. Or maybe not. Ranting onwards.
What do you recall from reading Jules Verne and George Orwell, Mr. Worstwriter? I’m so glad you asked, dear worst-reader. I remember from both those writers how my future was being predicted. Indeed. Even though I didn’t read much when I was kid, by the time I got out of the waste-of-time that is #americant suburban-hell […]
This is just a list (bullets followed by minor worst-explanations) I’ve been putting together in my head since reading that #Trump thinks Germany is bad, bad, real bad. I guess, in a way, I’m kinda jealous of Trump–you know, his bullhorn is so much louder than mine. Still, that’s why the tech-gods gave us all the […]
Speculators at megabanks or investment firms such as Goldman Sachs are not, in a strict sense, capitalists. They do not make money from the means of production. Rather, they ignore or rewrite the law—ostensibly put in place to protect the vulnerable from the powerful—to steal from everyone, including their shareholders. They are parasites. They feed […]
I take this snapshot while walking in the park and then ask my better-half why someone would cut down a fledgling tree–where w/out special government permission it’s illegal to cut down trees–and then spray-paint “Hurensohn” (son-of-a-whore) on it. She turned to me as she often does with half a cynical wink in her left eye. It’s […]
Go ‘head, dear worst-reader. Ask me. Ask me if I care how many German cars are sold in my grand and beloved united mistakes. Indeed. I don’t care. All I know is this: I’ve been driving Audis (in Germany, on German Autobahns) for most of the time I’ve been an expat. FYI, I’ve also been driving […]
Update: holly-krapp-olly! I’ve since been informed that I seriously broke the law pissing on/near a German water plant the other day. If I would have been caught by a German policeman (instead of one of the policeman-in-a-policeman-in-a-policeman that make up Das Volk) I would be facing a heavy fine and possible jail time. Which means, I guess, […]
Update: Always remember, dear worst-reader, when all else fails in your quest to fail-upwards, violence always wins. And so. Let’s give those deplorables a hand. They win. Again. Again. Again. (Thank you Bill & Hillary Clinton!) Hi-Larry-Us, dear worst-reader. The first thought that came into my worst-mind upon hearing the news that another batsh*t republican […]
Actually thought about reading the linked article twice but ended up only reading it in part the first time. That is, I started reading it and then realised–and this coming from worstwriter–that the author was practicing his/her typing more than actually writing something. Or maybe not. What a crock of poo-poo the recent ransomware scandals […]
No. Seriously. I had this wild pre-dawn dream. I was in PHL with my wife. We were working together on an American TV show that had a deadline. I had to take a Cessna plane to MD in order to solve a problem in the TV show’s script. On the trip back to PHL the Cessna […]
Since I’m on a roll with translating today, here’s one more. Saw this truck this morning while walking Beckett, the Killer Pug, and couldn’t help but think of reality. So I snapped this pic. Indeed. Berufswunsch: Eiswagenfahrer. Translation: globalisation means that kids don’t need school but instead a driver’s license and maybe a few phonebooks […]
What is the first casualty of war, dear worst-reader? That’s right. The truth. Ever wonder how all those bankers, especially the pions that do all the work for banks and Wall Street, how they think about the lies they are telling? Obviously they justify what they do with the knowledge that they are, indeed, at war. Ever see […]
There are moments, dear worst-reader, where I love the German language. There are also moments when I don’t love it. But that’s not what this worst-post is about. Even though I’ve given up studying the language–because I reached a point many years ago where I not only would dream in it but I achieved such advanced forsight […]
Photographed on a street somewhere in India. I have no idear what it is. Could it be one of them seed pods from Body Snatchers? Or perhaps it’s a leather case that houses the ersatz medication of an attempt to eugenically–or do I mean sexually–enhance an Ogre.