just a bunch of this-or-that from an ageing, sweet-bitter, consume-to-survive skeptic expat
The car, I'm guessing, is the remains of a Trabant. Anyone remember the Trabant? Oh I remember them well. In fact, sexual relations in one was as good as when I did it for the third time in a 1972 Beetle--and it was 1980. My stepfather was furious the next day as he drove that …
Continue reading "Shade And Tree Innards At Top Of Stair For The Glory Of Everyone’s DDR"
What can one say about the ugliness and the hate and the true-face of today's new & improved pseudo-bourgeoisie of #Americant? On that note, let's get it on about guns. Keep in mind, dear worst-reader, there is one thing that the shooters of Columbine, Sandy Hook, Charleston Church and Parkland have in common--other than their …
Continue reading "The True Face Of Greed Will Joyously Burn The Whole Thing Down Then Party Hearty"
The pic I want to comment on is the one with Yogi Bear. I was pumping gas into my rental car a few weeks back and what I thought was a dead screen suddenly came alive and Yogi wanted to sell me something and I thought: the scavenging scrapers of the rotten innards of the …
One of the world's most greedy corporate CEOs (I mean, come on worst-reader, it is all about greed and not achievement or merit or the like, right?) has found a moment to put a few degrees between what he represents (über-greed) and what the worst of the worst represents (stupid-greed). Pretty much from day one …
Returned from The Homeland last Monday. It was a horrible trip. It was horrible because, of the two weeks I was there, after doing some yard work for my Mom, I contracted a pretty bad skin ailment from poison ivy. In fact, as I worst-write this, two weeks after returning, I'm still itching. (But it …
Continue reading "Pseudo-Review: The Shape Of Water Not Unlike My Desire Of The Her Of All Fish"
Subtitle: Facebook's Mark Zuckerberg, Gawker's Peter Thiel and #Trump's comb-over should suck each other till there's nothing left of all. Disclaimer: This post is NSFW because of some harsh language. Good luck with that and sorry if I offended you before this warning. (Not!) You know, dear worst-reader, you should ask me. (Pause.) In fact, …
https://youtu.be/eYpQqAWenaY The wafer is upside-down or inside-out or, perhaps, missing something essential? No. Wait. It still tasted manufactured great. Or maybe not. Rant on. -T
First pseudo-review of this sort of stuff here. Been fiddling around with audio for a few years now. About a decade ago, well into my forties, I made the mistake of purchasing a surround sound system. It was some ginormous thirty-pound, seven channel, only God knows how to setup system and after a few years …
Even if we assume the existence of a God who, as Homer says, pours out from his urns his good and evil gifts, I am amazed at the pious who insult their God by failing to see that as this world is run there is a field of circumstance that is not commensurate with God's …
Continue reading "As The God’s Of Your Mind Play Fiddle Diddle Widdle"
Thoughts after first read of this book here. Obviously I've subverted nothing. I mean, come on. How can worst-writer, leader of the uselesseater union of the world and advocate for forced early retirement (as long as the women-folk and their feminism pay for it), subvert anything? Unless, of course, subversion is defined by how one …
The only problem worst-writer has with this wonderfully imaginative novel about The Feminine is how, if it were a quilt, it would be sewn together with a single thread. That thread, unfortunately, is the opposite of The Feminine. I suppose, if pushed to answer what that opposite (thread) is, I'd have to say this book …
Was up around 3am and walking around my little apartment angry and spiteful at the snow that had fallen during the night. This has been a hell winter, dear worst-reader. And speakng of hell. As indicated in the pic above, there is a certain irony to living in hell. Especially when that hell stems from …
Ok. Obviously there are better things to be done on a Friday night before flying to my beloved homeland Sunday morning. The only question that remains is: what the hell to do Saturday night? In the mean time, here another fabulous quote as I re-read a book. "When individuals are finally emasculated and alone, bereft …
