Last Of The Mohican Bookshelves

Actually the brand that is the last of anything is “Mocoba” not Mohican. As in the last bookshelf I’ll probably ever consume-to-survive.

So much for worst-writer worst-humour.

This is indeed a fancy-pants bookshelf system sold by some fancy-pants art-like shelf dealer in Köln. It is created/designed by some fancy-pants architect, I think. (#Interwebnet search it yourself on account I’m not selling anything here except worst-writing.) Yes. Architect. You know, those dudes who look and live like nature is the enemy they’ve long since turned into their lover? Yeah. Architects. Anywho.

After more than ten years with our Ikea Billy bookshelves that were showing a bit too much wear, we decided to make one last investment in new shelves in order to begin our own little home physical book museum. Actually, the Billies we had were also dark brown and we were tired of how they stole so much light from the room. When we bought them they were set up in a large foyer/entry area to our one-hundred-fifty year old apartment. Now they’re in a living room that was built five years ago. The walls are clear white, without aged stone blemishes and cracks and the damn floor is even level. And the reason I’m referring to this our last physical book shelf museum is because… Well, you know, on account, all the books I’ve read for the past three years have been ebooks. This books shelf shall house all the real (physical) books I bought between 1985 ca. 2014. It was a hard acquaintance, if you dare to know, dear worst-reader. Leaving physical books for something new. In my own defence, I fought the transition for as long as I could. Then, one day, while traveling, I was reading an ebook and I realised: Gee, this ain’t so bad. When I finished that ebook and I then directly bought another and without snail mail delivery time, I was reading another ebook and lovin’ it. Now my problem is which ebook service to use. Yeah, first world problems, eh.

IMG_4mocoba bookshelves almost filled.JPG

-Rant on


Pork Bellies, Wives And The Real Fake Newz


Let us begin, dear worst-reader, with a worst-writer transcription from a great movie. Sometimes I get a kick out of doing this sort of thing. It has something to do with my love of typing. Here’s another one, if you dare. The reason I chose the movie Trading Places for this post, by-the-buy, is because, in these times of fake newz galore, is there really a difference between (comedic) fiction and all things fake newz? With that in mind, let’s get it on.

The worst-writer transcript below is from the movie Trading Places. For whatever worst-reason, the scene transcribed reminds me of the/a conversion between fiction (fake) and reality. Even though the dialogue reflects something that could actually happen in (real) life, the actors are able to cartoonize it not unlike what President Stupid has done with #Americant.

Disclaimer. I transcribed this by watching a clip on the #Interwebnets. I make no garantee of accuracy–especially since I’ve been drinking a bottle of Aldi Weissbegrunder  (Pinot Blanc) for most of this post creation. Indeed. Weissbegrunder and lots of ice is a great way to battle this #Eurowasteland heatwave I’ve never before experienced while living in this gold-cage life for almost a quarter century. Good luck.

Scene: Mortimer Duke, Randolph Duke and William Valentine are sitting in a luxurious, old-money, pseudo aristocratic #Americant office of a Philadelphia, PA, infamous commodities trading firm. They are all watching the commodities market on closed circuit CRT monitors.

Mortimer Duke picks up phone, connects to a commodities trader.

Mortimer: Mortimer here. Buy two-hundred pork-belly contracts at sixty-six point eight.

Valentine: You’re making a big mistake, man.

Mortimer: Valentine, something very important is going on here. Just watch.

Valentine: Alright. But you’all gonna get reemed on this one.

Randolph: Why shouldn’t we buy now, William?

Valentine: The price is going to keep going down.

Mortimer: Randolph, this isn’t Monopoly money we’re playing with.

Randolph picks up closed circuit phone and connects to commodities trader.

Randolph: This is Randolph Duke. Hold that belly order a moment.

Randolph hangs up phone and turns to Valentine.

Randolph: Tell me why you think the price of pork bellies is going down, William.

Valentine: It’s Christmas time. Everybody is uptight.

Valentine gets up out of his chair and walks around the room.

Mortimer: (to Randolph.) Could we please buy now, Randolph.

Valentine: You want to lose money, go ahead.

Randolph: What are you trying to say, William?

Valentine: Ok. Pork belly prices have been dropping all morning. Which means everybody has been sittin’ in their office waiting all morning for the prices to hit rock bottom so they can buy cheap and go long. So the people that own the pork belly contracts are goin’ batshit. They be thinking about losing all that damn money and Christmas is around the corner and I ain’t gonna be able to buy my son the G.I. Joe with the kung-fu grip. Ok. And my wife ain’t gonna want to f… And my wife ain’t gonna make love to me cause I ain’t got no money. So they sittn’ there and they panickin’ and sayin’ sell sell sell! Cause they don’t want to lose all their money, right? They out there panicking right now. I can feel it. They out there. They panickin’. Look at em.

Closed circuit CRT screens shows stats of pork-belly pricies on the commodities market incrementally falling.

Randolph: My God, Mortimer. Look at em.

Valentine: I’d wait till you get to about sixty-four, then I’d buy. You’ll have cleared out all the suckers by then.

Randolph is punching on a pocket calculator.

Randolph: (To Mortimer.) Do you realise how much money he just saved us?

Mortimer: Money isn’t everything, Randolph!

Randolph picks up closed-circuit phone and calls commodities trader.

Randolph: Advise our clients interested in bellies to buy at sixty-four. Mister Valentine has set the price.

Randolph hangs up phone and goes to Valentine and shakes his hand.

Randolph: Well done, William.

Mortimer: (Obviously frustrated. Getting up to join Randolph on way out.) Come on,

Randolph. We’re gonna be late.

Randolph and Mortimer exit and Valentines smiles–as only Eddie Murphy can!

And now on with the worst-post about #Trumpism run amok and all (the) things them #Deplorables will never know.

Why is it so hard to read certain newz stories? Can it have anything to do with the farce of #Deplorable facilitated #FakeNews? Seriously. “Fake news.” Who came up with that? Someone who’s never watched TV in the past thirty years? I mean, get a load of the article below, dear worst-reader. Can you believe that someone or some organisation in the journalist world is trying to sell anything #Trump–or #Americant for that matter–as positive–based on stats and stuff? Oh wait. We’re living in these times, eh. These times of all things fake. And so. If anybody thinks that President Stupid is gonna actually do anything positive for the world, stop thinking. (Not that you actually thought much in recent years.) It’s time for you and your cronies to pack it up, hide your junk, the only women-folk that is gonna fall for you is one that luvs to be grabbed by the…

But on a more worst-serious note: the Reuters article (link below) is really hard to swallow. (Wait. Did I actually just write that? Indeed, I did.) The hardest part about swallowing (it), though, ain’t the mess (left on your face)–but instead the unfake-newz (reality) that President Stupid is really there to wreck everything. The propaganda machine that he has behind him–thanks to Reagan, Rush and faux-newz–is doing a pretty good job of it. Does that mean that Reuters is part of it? Who knows. The unreal question is: considering the state of things, that is, how people are struggling, how the middle class has been decimated, the bar of Stupid has been lowered, this level of optimism and/or misinformation that contains no connection to that struggle, should be reason enough to grab your ankles and hope the inserter brought some lube.

If you’re in anyway invested or vested in what Reuters is reporting… Good luck suckers.

-Rant on


Link that motivated this post:

Exploding Shrooms Or How To Razor Wire Your Paranoia?

Sites seen while walking Beckett, The Killer Pug. The mushroom is at least 12-14 inches in diameter. When it ejaculated its spores there might have been a slight wind from the South West. There is a metallic greyness, an almost mechanical shade around the base of the fungus. I never before thought I could see a smell, especially one that must, if a taste for it could be acquired, that has a look that smells so hideous. Perhaps I should document how the fungus will end up once it’s completely dried out. For indeed, dear worst-reader, there are hardened, if not fossilised fungi in the forest-park that Beckett and I traverse. And so. Yes. Two things I need to do in life (before it ends). One is to photograph all (ALL!) the churches in Köln and the other, perhaps, is to take majestic pictures of all the fungi inherent to the Germanin Boden (ground). And worst-speaking of Germania. Once I left the forest-park and began the trek home–for my pug has a difficult time right now dealing with the extreme weather situation caused by a world of greed mongers galore and their hate of climate–I finally took a snapshot of one of the houses on Rich-Inheritor Street that I walk by almost daily (on account it’s between where I live and the forest-park). Don’t you know, there are a few of these streets in every major village of Germania. (For those not in the know: there really are no cities in Germania; only villages.) They are the streets where no one earns a thing but their parents and grandparents did. And so. The lap of luxury in almost ancient, if not old #Eurowasteland villas, that all say fcuk-you in caps to people who would like to have a chance at upward mobility, where grand-children of Nazi conspirators and/or corporate fascists bought their way through the game of life. These places (villas) when listed for sale on real-estate sites go for millions of €uros. Yet there is something sinister about them–about them all that is above and beyond their fiat value. I’ve spoken to a few occupiers of these old-money places (villas) as I can’t help but pass their servants who walk the watch dogs. “What’s with the military grade razor wire,” I inquired of a MILF walking a mut hound-dog that has the longest droopy ears I’ve ever seen. Before she could answer I glanced at an open button on her thin blouse, gazing at the lace of the brassiere underneath as it pressed and smooshed her ageing teat. I could see sweat in her sweet place and I think the hound could smell it, too. “So, baby. Is the razor wire because of the neighbour-hate that you Germans have for one another,” I added. For a second I thought she was gonna point two fingers from her breast to my eyes and then to her eyes. But she is not a German servant. Instead her hound growled and she went on a short tirade complaining about Merkel and the immigrant problem that Germans shouldn’t be having at this time. I kept my rude eyes fixated and showed sympathy to her dog. Once she got on about the increase of break-ins in the area I got bored. I then asked her if she wanted to fcuk in the forest-park. “I know of a soft stump you can use to bend over. Will your hound mind or will I just have to push his nose away all the time. Such a thing is very distracting, don’t you know.” But she had moved on down the street, somehow proud of telling an immigrant how she hated immigrants. Nomatter. I’m keeping an eye on that one. I know where she lives. I know that there is no military grade razor wire on one of her accessible ground floor windows.

-Rant on


The Anatomy Of Corn, Puffy Nipples And The One That Got Away

What are the things you miss most as an unwilling expat? It used to be blue crabs. But I’ve indeed had more than my share of them. (May the God of the Chesapeake, you lovely Bitch, have mercy on my soul for all my sins!) There was also a time when I missed the #Americant highway–especially when traversed on a motorbike. Oh how things have changed throughout the years. Yet there are things I still miss, still yearn for as this going-native journey has become something quite unexpected. For example. Soon in my beloved & missed United Mistakes, especially in the mid-Atlantic area where the headquarters, Washington DC, land of free to be stupid suburbia, it’ll be corn–as in on-the-cob–season. Of all my memories, the fishing and crabbing, the hunting, the untrimmed putang of the early 1980s, etc., etc., and the puffy nipples of THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY, the thing I’m thinking about most, especially this time of year, is the corn. Those ten to twelve inch cobs that are anywhere between two and three inches in diameter, with light-green, almost transparent husk-leaves…. Yeah. My mouth is watering already. And then there’s the experience, once perfectly cooked, you bite into the small, stiff, snow-white kernels of the super-sweet kind and there is literally an explosion between your teeth and gums of juice filling your mouth with a sweetness unmatched by even honey droplets delivered by THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY and her luscious puffy-nipples. And so. In the mean-time, considering that I probably won’t make it there till October, I’ll just have to have some puffy candy to stare at. Indeed. I won’t eat that krapp. But it is a great image to fill the mind’s eye of dreaming about puffy nipples during corn season while growing up.

-Rant on


Unusual Heatwave Bringing Out Nature’s Best And Miele Makes Best Washing Machines

Pulled this nasty guy off my dog, Beckett the Killa pug, this morning. It’s the second one in a month. Indeed. An unusually long heatwave is doing its job on nature here. Bugs are flying around I’ve never seen before. The Rhine river is extremely low and somewhat more toxic than usual. Last week while out and about I noticed a fairly large group of seagulls on the other side of the Rhine. They were there eating all the dead fish probably caused by either temperature or low water levels. Temperatures in excess of thirty degrees for weeks on end with little rain is tough in a place that doesn’t have air conditioning. But that’s neither here nor there.

Yesterday while walking my dog I came across a nice old lady with her nice old Irish Setter. The Setter was stuck in a low water canal that encircles a large park nearby. It had gotten away from her and jumped in to cool off. She said the dog was struggling and couldn’t make it up the high bank. She asked me if she should call the fire department or something.

“Heck no,” I said to her. “This is a job for neighbourhood nice-guy!”

I jumped in the canal to do my good deed for the week. What was unexpected from my little rescue mission was a nice and nasty dip in two feet of water and three feet of mud. The woman offered to wash my clothes when I finally got her dog out.

“No thanks,” I said. “I have a Miele.”

Of course the German worst-joke here is: I actually have a Bosch washing machine, which is half the price of a Miele and it’s been going strong for almost ten years now. (Knock on wood.) Which means I’ve been among the Germans long enough to know their dry humour (if you can call it that) which can only reference consuming-to-survive.

-Rant on



Caught With The Cookie In The Hand Jar

Screen Shot 2018-07-26 at 09.20.11
Screenshot from the Interwebnets

Title 2: Jar Caught With Hand In The Cookie

Title 3: Cookie With The Hand Jar Caught

Etc., etc.

Let’s figure them out, shall we? I’m referring, of course, to right-wingers. I mean, it’s one thing to simply call them all Deplorables–as Hillary so brilliantly but also mistakenly did–but it’s another thing to actually get down to the nitty-gritty of what these ugly and disgusting morons–I mean Deplorables–who are ALL so susceptible to propaganda and manipulation–really are. And so. While walking Beckett the killer pug this morning in ravaging heat in old Germania, I thought of the old #Americant adage of the child stealing from the cookie jar.  So let’s give it a go.

First. Here the parameters of a cookie jar world that is fundamental to right-wingers, conservatives and GOPers and their political ideology.

  1. The cookie jar is owned.
  2. There is a time and place for a cookie.
  3. The cookies are manufactured.
  4. The thief is a child but old enough to understand rules.
  5. An authority establishes cookie rules.
  6. Everybody wants a cookie.
  7. The cost of a cookie is equal to how much it’s wanted or needed.
  8. A cookie can be a physical object or not.

And so. Here’s the scenario.

A child comes along one day and steals a cookie from the cookie jar. In the spirit of truth, justice and an all-powerful lust for cookies, a few other children call out the cookie thief. This call-out causes a split in the cookie nation and there is a panic. During this panic the makers of the cookie-jar, the cookies and the place where the cookie jar exists, face some existential issues. They come up with a plan to turn the lust children have for cookies into political advantage. Their plan is successful beyond their wildest dreams. All the children become mindless cookie monsters. Now, whenever a cookie is stolen, the child that stole it and was witnessed stealing it, has a huuuuuge platform that magnifies his or her baby eyes and screams of anger where cookie crumbs spew from butt-hole shaped mouths. This used to be called a tantrum. But since cookies are stolen everyday and deniability has joined with scapegoating–a tantrum is no longer a tantrum, it is a way of life. But that’s not the biggest problem. The biggest problem now is that the planners of cookie-hell have run out of the means to maintain the cookie jar. Add the fact that there are no more children lusting for cookies who also know truth, justice and…

Or something like that.

This might be a work in progress.

-Rant on


Opening Bottled Stupid Or Another Story Of #Americant Run Amok Galore


Well, this was supposed to be kind of a worst-post based on the newz-links at the end but instead I got caught up in an email exchange with an Old Friend and let myself get a bit off worst-topic. Good luck 1.

The following is an email exchange mixed what I consider to be some of my best worst-writing. That is, it’s totally convoluted, somewhat in-cohesive and angrily confused. Also, much of the yelling and screaming between worst-writer and my Old Friend back home has been removed on account… See good luck 1 above. Good luck 2.

Oh. And one more thing. “Old Friend” in this post has been replaced with Worst-Reader. Good luck 3.

Worst-writer: Are you in touch with the Jeff Sessions, new #SCOTUS pick and President Stupid, dear worst-reader?

Worst-reader: Sessions? Really? Dude you gotta get over it. I told you, Trump is just one more step to the Market State. Sessions is the beginning. He is nothing. Wait till real lawyers are in there with real billionaires running the country. This is just a side show.

–end correspondence with worst-reader out of pure shock.

Pause. Worst-writer proceeds to fill glass with ice and white wine. It’s approaching 100 degrees here in Germania.

Continue correspondence.

Worst-writer to Dear worst-reader: If you’re serious about Jeff Sessions, you are waaaaay out of touch. And not just out of touch with reason but also with history. Either that or you’re drunk. But don’t worry. I’m gettin there, too.

And so, allow me… (and brace yourself.)

Another pause. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

Dear worst-reader: You do know who bows to fascist power, don’t you? All of them, from Fiat to Mercedes Benz to big-bank here or there (in old Europe). They all bowed front and backwards to the fascists. And remember:

The Germans and Italians lost WW2 but fascism won! (-George Carlin)

Let’s start with Sessions and go from there.

Sessions is a KKK shitbag fascist. The KKK and ALL racists love fascism. In fact, when business fails—as it ultimately must when capitalism runs amok as it’s currently doing in its present neo-feudal form–ALL business people will turn to fascism, too. How will you, Dear worst-reader, choose your living standard when the rug is pulled out from under you?

Are you feeling the tug yet?

If you think Trump is a pawn of Wall Street lawyers and billionaires, WOW! And you call me out of touch?

Wall Street and ALL American bankers hate Trump. In fact, one of the reasons he’s so popular among republican shitbags is because he represent… Wait for it. That’s right. He represents the 7 deadly sins (pride, lust, sloth, greed, envy, wrath and gluttony) that is rural and middle-class America. Since people have allowed themselves to be convinced of the lie of individuality and/or the lie of the American-Dream and only know how to bitch & moan via faux-newz, thereby blaming everybody and everything but themselves for the error of giving republicans so much power for the past 30 years, Trump jumped on the hate wagon. How original, eh. He and so many cocksuckers like him have been riding these sins all their lives. Yeah, #Americant, baby.

#Trump, indeed.

Btw, that’s why Trump is beholden to Russia—and he most likely has broken laws here. He was smart enough to find Russian oligarchs that use him as their money launderer. How else can he afford huge money losing golf courses in Scotland and Ireland? How does he pay for that stupid jet of his? He skims off what he can from money laundering cocksuckers that prevented Russia from becoming a legitimate country after the USSR failed. Trump then hides his money from US tax authorities. Oh wait! Business people, like you, Dear Worst-Reader, think that’s “smart”, right? Yeah. The conman is smarter than the conned. Only in #Americant, baby! Anywho. Trump thought he finally made it out of NYC shitting on him for so many years because he really is a useless, cocksucking spoiled baby jerk-off–with a Russian connection. And who knows. Maybe he has finally made it. Then again, since he’s still disgusting to any rational thinking person—and there are some left—how do you think he’s gonna pay them all back–for this his last great con-job? Or is there no collective spite in gun-ridden, rascist, bat$hit #Americant?

And one more thing. The man is beholden to Russian oligarchs and Putin. That’s clear. And when he finally wrecks everything, how will fascist US business interests, and all you cocksucking corporate automatons, all beholden to the failing mighty dollar, react then?

Yeah. The ingredients are there and I’ve consolidated them quite well for you here. Share it with your fascists friends, if you like.

But one more thing.

Even though Trump is a moron he’s obviously studied the likes of Mussolini. Just watch one of Trump’s rallies. Mussolini rose to power in the same manner. Obviously, the American system is much more robust than that of Italy at the end of the 19th century but the similarities are there.

And even one more thing about Jeff Sessions. Why was Sessions picked to run DOJ for a Trump presidency? Btw, have you been reading about Trump’s latest SCOTUS pick? With Sessions at DOJ and, in the near future, a possibly full fascist SCOTUS, i.e. the 3rd branch of government, who is gonna pay who when push comes to shove and the US House of Representatives is made impotent? Two out of three branches of government, baby!

Shame your bubble can’t let you see that.

And so.

This is not a side show. You are in the middle of something that’s been going-on since the 80s, dude. And it’s being perpetrated by republicans. Be thankful that I’m so far out of your bubble to at least try and inform you.

-Rant on


Links that motivated this post:

Trying To Understand #Americant – With W.E.B. DuBois

souls of black folk.jpg

I have seen a land right merry with the sun, where children sing, and rolling hills lie like passioned women wanton with harvest. -W.E.B. DuBois

Finally got around to it, dear worst-reader. You know, that list of authors you’ve been meaning to read but somehow never get to. The thing is, if I get caught on one author that blows me a way I’m preoccupied with him (or her) for a while. And as we all know, worst-writer ain’t the fastest or the bestest reader.

The short-list of authors I’ve been waiting to get to regarding the subject of my beloved America’s downfall is Cornel West and W.E.B. DuBois. Well, last week, while searching around I came across a free version of “The Souls of Black Folk”. As soon as I finished the second page, I was hooked. Wow can this guy write! Who’d ever guess that in order for one to learn something about a part of America that is truly the most f’d up part (slavery!) some guy would come along and write about it (a hundred years go) with such beauty and elegance that sometimes you have to pinch yourself to remember you’re not reading Shakespeare.

One of the reasons I felt I should (finally) read DuBois (and Cornel West) is because I think one should try and understand the origin of his or her exploitation. I mean, when you’re practically exploited because you’re begging for it, lusting for it, needing it, shouldn’t you at least understand it? With that in mind, here’s one of the most motivating things I’ve ever heard:

“America has been niggarised since nine-eleven. When you’re niggarised you’re unsafe, unprotected, subject to random violence, hated for who you are and you become so scared that you defer to the powers that be and consent to your own domination.” -Cornel West

Now that America has lost its way and has become #Americant, is it too much to ask to be taught something about what’s going on? I mean, obviously, considering the state of THE MEDIA in a place that has chosen as a surname THE HOMELAND, where should this knowledge come from? Ok. A good start would be Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell. But the problem with Orwell is that he ain’t #Americant–even though that book totally fits the bill at this point in history. Ok. How ’bout Gore Vidal? There’s also Howard Zinn if you need a quickie History-101 course. On the entertainment side, you know, to both busy and sooth the mind, give the likes of Henry Miller a read. He’ll teach you something about #Americant, for sure. Also, Miller’s smut never hurts if you need to better enter into your lover. And on that note, I digress.

“The South ought to be lead, by candid and honest criticism, to assert her better self and to do her full duty to the race she has cruelly wronged and is still wronging.” -W.E.B. DuBois

Obviously something is eerily awry in my beloved & missed United Mistakes and one book ain’t gonna explain it all to me. Then again, considering THE MEDIA, especially the likes of faux-newz and the convoluted messages from the #MeToo movement and the #BlackLivesMatter movement, where the hell is any knowledge gonna come from? Wait. Is there knowledge in hysteria?

How the fcuk do I know?

Perhaps trying to grasp the pain of others, especially a pain that runs so deep and through so many generations of African Americans, as slavery does, is worth the slight effort of reading Mr. DeBois. At the least you’re given the written word in its highest form.

-Rant on


Paris Pic 2018


Dabbling in smartphone photography. Have no idear what I’m doing. Yet every once-a-once I nail it. Well, almost nail it. Street art from Spring 2018 Paris visit.

-Rant on


Quote From The Downfall

Risk being a victim of injustice rather then being complicit in it. -Bruce Fein


And so. I’m just trying to understand how my beloved & missed #Americant got to where it is right now. And boy is it f’n scary.

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on


And Now: #Eurowasteland At Its Finest Or How I Learned To Aim It Right

So. Like. About a year ago I was out and about on my beloved E-Bike and, as usual (at my age), I had to take a piss. Usually I find a secluded place among the urban trees but for reasons owned by men of my age bracket… when you gotta go you gotta fcuking go! And so. I found a relative off-street spot but it was aligned with a über-steel fence that enclosed the local water-works facility of D’dorf. Indeed. I knew that I might not be relieving myself in the best place, but like I worst-said… I had to go. Long story short. Some guy caught me at my business and while my (#Americant) Johnson was hanging out he decided to confront me and, only as a German can, give me the once-over regarding my choice of piss station. My first reaction was…

Dude! Is you fcuking out of your fcuking mind? Never. Never. Never confront a comrade while his Johnson is dangling. Can’t you at least wait till I’m done? You fcuking cocksucking German piece of mother fcuking…

And here, dear worst-reader, we enter the world of differences between the Germans and… and those who don’t want to be fcuking German. I think. Anywho. The guy was vehement about the fact that I probably broke a few German laws that afternoon. I indeed had pissed on a fence that housed the local water-works facility. My bad. Yeah. My bad.

By-the-Buy, that’s NOT me in the pics above. It’s a pic I took this afternoon of some dude having his way with a local tree. When I came around the corner while walking Beckett, the killer Pug, I saw this guy pissing in the middle of… fcuking everything. Behind him is the Rhein; in front of him a fcuking restaurant. I walk along this path where he’s doing his bidness almost every fcuking day. When I take this pic (the second one is a blow-up) I’m standing at the exit of a park which is next to a restaurant and local hotel overlooking the Rhein. Should I have tried to photograph those on the terrace of the restaurant enjoying their meals… with this view?

Ok. Ok. None of that matters. I would never be in this or any such situation in my beloved and missed #Americant. Reason? Well, there’s room to piss galore in land of free to be stupid–that gives way to the like of #Trump with with is piss woven hair.

And on that note, I fcuking digress.

-Rant on


New Pug Breed? Tiger Lion Killer Pug.

tiger lion pug.jpg
Sorry for the blur. Still working on figuring out phone camera.

As a pure black pug owner, seeing this guy really caught my eye the other day. According to his owner, he’s only three years old so the white/grey is very odd. He’s almost twice the size of my Pug–and mine is no Pug slouch. Although his facial features were almost perfect (for my standards), his body and tail were not quite right. That was probably due to his size. I’ve never seen a pug like him before. Very nice character, very friendly.

-Rant on


A Told, Untold And Retold Story Or Why I’m Obsessed With Calling Out Those Who Gave US President PeePeeHair

It’s hard being an expat. It’s even harder being an expat stuck in a golden cage. Indeed, dear worst-reader. That’s what I call my not-so-loved Germania where I’ve been living and mentally struggling for the better part of twenty-plus years. When people ask me, though, why Germany, I usually avoid the obviousness of my birth. That is, my mother is German born but since marrying an idiot GI (I was born and raised in US) and had two kids with him, she’s been an American citizen longer than I’ve been in #Eurowasteland. Then I usually add something like: Well, don’t you know, there was always the allure of German Fräuleins and Bier. But all worst-kidding aside.

How pissed are you, dear worst-reader? Well, I’m pretty pissed right about now. Am I more pissed than usual? No. But I’m pissed enough–and it’s too early to get on with getting pissed another way. (For those lacking in anglo internationality, “pissed” in the US means angry; outside US it means drunk. But I digress.)  With that in mind, I read a really long and what turned out to be disappointing article about Otto Warmbier this morning. (See link below.) I’ve always been interested in Warmbier because 1. the odd circumstance of his death and 2. why the beejeezees he went to North Korea in the first place. In fact, I found it astonishing that this young man, who was obviously stupid enough to do what he did… Hold a sec. I guess I have to show more respect. Or? Naw. Fcuk it. This kid was obviously a moron. And guess what? I bet he was fcuking raised by morons, too. Seriously. How stupid can you be to think of a reason to go to North Korea–as a fcuking tourist? Oh wait. The article referenced here does indicate that Warmbier and his family–wait for it–are republicans. Which also means, they are probably religious $hitbags. And ain’t that, then, reason to go to North Korea? I mean, I get it if professionals, journalists, government or humanitarian agencies send people there. But to go there as a white male American tourist with God on your shoulder???

If we (Americans and US government) can’t make NK subservient to us–you know, like we did with South Korea, Japan, etc.–then we should at least try to save their ungodly souls.

Is that what Warmbier was thinking? Ok. Ok. Obviously I got very little new information from this strangely long and tiresome article. So why did I struggle through it? What I really want to know is why Warmbier was returned to the US in a vegetative state? Unfortunately this really, really long article doesn’t provide an answer to that question. It does provide further speculation about how Warmbeir died. He died… Actually his brain died after trying to commit suicide instead of facing fifteen years hard labor in a North Korean jail. Was he also tortured, drugged, beaten? There are no definitive answers to how this kid ended up the way he did. Except, perhaps, the reality, like some many misguided #Americants and their perverted sense of religious righteousness, he was massively in the wrong place at the wrong time driven by the wrong attitude.

Btw, in another article I read this morning, there is more reason to ridicule republican shitbags. Although I’m no big fan of his make-fun-of (people) comedy (because making fun of someone is much easier than writing original stuff worth laughing at), I have to admit that Sasha Baron Cohen might have created his 9th Symphony.  Even though I won’t ever watch the show, instead watching snippets of it on the interwebnets, I think the man has finally found a way to bottle #Americant stupid. Congrats Sasha!

As far as the guy butt grabbing the waitress goes, I can only say this. Having had more than my share of the female body since I started banging chicks for sport when I was seventeen, it never once occurred to me to grab a woman by her sweaty waitress ass for shits & giggles. But Then again, I do like doing just that with my wife. Which begs this worst-question: where do men get the idear to do this sort of thing?

And last but not least, albeit without any further newz link, here my thoughts on President Stupid and how an old friend back in the homeland constantly tries to defend him.

This previous post is a disguised response to an email sent to me by an Old Friend. My Old Friend is trying to get me to read an open-letter published by The Nation (see link). After a few short corresponding and perhaps heated exchanges where I criticise the Open Letter, my Od Friend continues down a pseudo-defense of Trump and his GOP-ilk. Of course, my Old Friend and his living standard, is very dependent on GOP and neo-liberal (i.e. conservative Democrat) politicking. This is my most recent response:

Dear Old Friend,

And not only am I obsessed with Trump but also the fact that I was right all along. I’ve been right since we got out of high school. Although I never thought it would be Trump—since Reagan I always knew that this level of ugly can be the only direction the lie of the American mind can go. There is something so deeply and inherently wrong with the people that have enabled Trump—and I saw it from the get-go. The nastiness, the spite, the pure and adulterated ugliness of American white people. The cesspool of abuse and exploitation of the middle and lower classes—all made up of disgusting people who wallow in their own mindless excrement so they can have their next dollar. The entire Wash DC region has got to be one of the worst places on this planet—and not because of politics but because of the inner ugliness of the people that are there. These people are so deep in their own mind-filth of lies and mendacity that they can’t/will never see truth of any kind. That’s how you get a guy like Trump. That’s how you turn people against each other and Trump can then take advantage of… the fly-over states that are so far from the coasts and, of course, the entire DC region. That’s how you get the republican party to ally itself, willingly or not, with this level of extremism that is fascism pure. Breitbart & Co., is the natural following of über ignorant conservative white people that have achieved nothing nothing nothing and don’t know what to do with the anger they have inside themselves because of their self-imposed subjugation and thereby can only give the world the disgustingly ugly and hideous Trump with hair made out of piss and complaints and blame, etc. Trump can only come out of pure and simple stupidity—what a deserving people they are who made him.

Trump and everything about him, what makes him, disgusts me and I will forever condemn him and those who enable him.

We may be the last born of a foolish generation (the baby-boomers) with some level of hope and optimism but we will also see the sad end of that generation simply because all that’s left is the worst not the best of our character. The coming downfall has been well earned, old friend.


-Rant on


Link that motivated this post:

The Good Book In One Hand, Burning #Americant Flag In The Other

Scream no fear all worst

No. Seriously. It was the re-election of Dubya Dip$hit Bush back in ’04 that probably sealed the deal that I would never repatriate to my beloved & missed #Americant. I really didn’t think things could get any worst, though, after Dip$hit Dubya. And so. Dear worst-reader. Welcome to my… getting worst-world galore.

I can’t forget an argument I had with a (former) friend in early in 2017. President Stupid had just taken office and when I questioned who she voted for she proudly said: Jill Stein.

“So you elected the Donald, eh,” I said. “You know, it’s the same as when Bill Clinton was elected. Do you know how he won with less than half the votes of the #Americant people. It was that silly little Tex-ass whimpy billionaire Ross Perot.”

“Who? What? No. I just can’t stand Hillary,” she said.

Well, at least she was that level of honest.

Long worst-story short, I went ballistic on her because when questioned what the hell was wrong with Hillary all she could say was what she had heard from news sources and their partisan talking points that had been spewed about Hillary for the better part of twenty years. I guess that’s how you kill liberalism, too.

“You do realise that Hillary has never done one thing wrong. Not one. So saying you voted for Jill Stein because you dislike  Hillary based on what you’ve heard is the same as electing President Stupid,” I said. “Which means you must secretly like him.”

“You’re stupid,” she said.

So I left the #Americant grade-school play-ground sandbox and a few days later returned to my golden cage of Germania. I’ve been on pins and needles since. Reason? The worst part about how #Americants elected President Stupid isn’t just his hair, his ugly and seething personality, his banality and that butthole of a mouth that he can’t close. No. The worst part is the power of the office he possesses and how that can sooooo negatively effect the future of humanity. Point being: It’s one thing that the party he represents stole a #SCOTUS appointment from Barry-O. It’s another thing that President Stupid has picked the ugly of the ugliest as his second #SCOTUS appointment. I mean, ugly is ugly but it can’t be said enough. And so…

When fascism comes to the stupidity of #Americant it will arrive with a Bible in one hand and the flag in the other. (-Not sure who said it but its worth forever repeating.)

Welcome to your nightmare land of free to be stupid.

-Rant on


Link the motivated this post:

How To Fight Your Culture Of Stupidity Galore Without Losing Your Shirt Or Your Head

stained flag

First and foremost, get rid of the elite. Not unlike that which lead to the French Revolution–there should be heads rolling through mishandled municipal gutters about now. In fact, there should be something like a pile of heads museum somewhere from the past thirty or so years. But I guess that’s wishful thinking considering the redneck dumba$$es who have long since lost their shirts and given the rest of us a world of #Trump. Wait. Did they lose shirts or…?

The Nation (see link below) recently published an open letter that might be worth a worst-read. At the least, the list of signees–see link to it below–is worth reading. Most of the signees, btw, are pretty rational people. Unfortunately the letter is nothing more than a hark backwards for somewhat rational thinking people who are trying to cope with what they’ve ALL done to bring about #Trump. Republican or Democrat, anyone who participated in the Neo-liberal economics of the past 30 yrs is part of something too big to blame, eh! How do you know if you’ve participated in the Neo-liberal bat$hittery of the past thirty years? Easy. Can you pay off all your consumer debt within the next two or three salary/income earnings? For those living off the Neo-rentier system, you’re heads should be rolling simply because you’re the worst of the worst. But on that note, I digress.

Tangent: Have you ever, dear worst-reader, considered comparing #Trump to Nixon? Someone should write an open letter with a whole bunch of signatures about that. Do you know why #Trump probably won’t be impeached (even though he deserves to be simply because of that hair!) Well, to answer that question all you have to do is figure out how/why they got Nixon to quite after being threatened with almost sure impeachment. It boils down to one thing:

Fcuking Faux Newz!!!!!! Feeding off a culture/society of STUPIDITY GALORE.

If Nixon had had faux newz he would have glided through all his corruption and illegal activities like a hot blade through butter. That’s why #Trump probably won’t be impeached. And that’s why #Trump can play the stupid white man card, taking advantage of THE DEPLORABLES and f’n get away with it. He and the bath$hittery of stupid white people who are obsessed with their feelings over and above rational thought—unless it’s about their f’n money!—has gone way overboard. Not even rational open letters from political celebrities can counter that.

An open letter from people who got famous in politics after the 1980s doesn’t really matter anymore. Democracy died a long time ago in #Americant thanks to stupidity and greed and the only reason there’s trouble with international affairs (Russia Russia Russia) is because there ain’t no real money left for the stupid and the greedy—both embodied by dumbass rednecks and their leader/demigod #Trump.

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on


Link that motivated this post:

Pseudo-Review #6: R&M Charger GX At 5000km And Humming Brakes From Hell

Surpassed 5000km the other day on my beloved e-bike. As of May this year, it’s also just over a year old. Although I’ve met some who ride their bikes a lot more than worst-moi, I’m kinda tickled that I’ve been able to ride all these kilometres. With that in mind, perhaps it’s time to complain (or is it “rant”) a bit about this great bike.

First: the frame (see pics above). As mentioned in Pseudo-Review #5, I was gallantly (sarcasm off) delivered a replacement frame under warranty due to a chip in the paint right in the middle of the top tube. A few weeks after ridng around with the new frame though, I noticed that the shop re-installed one of the handle bar cables in the wrong position. A few weeks of riding caused the cable to thoroughly abrase the head tube.  Well, don’t you know! The whole frame replacement ordeal for the cracked paint (which took almost eight months) was all for naught. Although I got rid of the obnoxious chip, I now have an obnoxious scratch. Wow. Competance hard to find, eh?

Next: strange noises or humming brakes from hell. Although I tell people that I would buy this bike again and the main reason for that is the sheer quality it exemplifies, after a year of riding, it’s starting to show wear. This is most notible in noise. The seat, for example. Although I love this seat, it sqeeks and crackles something awful. The worst noise this bike makes, though, is a low humming sound coming from the rear disk brake.

I had to the take the bike to a shop this spring because, after changing the rear tyre last fall, something went awry when I re-installed the tyre. For the life of me, I could not get the rear tyre properly aligned when re-installing it. I’m assuming this has something to do with the complex axil mount R&M uses on this frame design.

Note: The Charger frame is special in that, unlike most bikes, the chain does not go through the frame–or the chain stay. This is in part why the axil mount for the rear wheel is so complex. As you can see in the pic above, the axil of the wheel is mounted to an adapter. The adapter is mounted to the frame. I’m assuming R&M chose this design to allow for choice in final drive solutions, especially belt drive systems which, unlike chains, require some form of frame separation to install. It’s a pretty ingenious design–if you can deal with the f’n humming brake noise that is, I’m guessing, caused by this complexity. But I digress.

After the shop checked the rear wheel they told me that the problem wasn’t the alignment of the wheel but instead I had jarred the drums of the brake pads in the wrong direction when I removed the wheel. This caused one side of the brake drums to protrude further out than the other. Of course, this made no sense to me because I understand hydraulic brakes, brake pads, brake drums, calipers, etc. When I removed the rear wheel, I was careful not to squeeze the brake lever–or mess with the caliper. In fact, I didn’t go anywhere near the brake lever till I had re-installed the wheel. The bike mechanic said that they simply had to push the drums all the way back into the calipers. Ok. Fine. They charged me twenty Euros and sent me on my way. But! Did they fix the problem? No. The brake is still rubbing and humming–because I’ve given up on the whole thing. This also means I have to unnecessarily and prematurely replace brake pads.

My worst-guess is that this is a two-fold problem and has to do with R&M frame design. There is simply not enough room for error or adjustment on the frame where the brake caliper is mounted. The complexity of the rear wheel mounts, derailleur, gears, hydraulic brake, etc., is also, IMHO, missing something. Unlike the front wheel, which has a through-axil, and requires no vertical or horizontal movement, the rear wheel, when removed, drops vertically. In this complex mounting situation there also needs to be some way to move the wheel horizontally if the brake caliper can no longer be adjusted. Needless to say, R&M have made something complex that should probably be a bit simpler. But on that note, I digress again.

All in all, this is a fantastic bike and at this point I wouldn’t trade it for anything but a Stromer ST2 at half-price. (And even with such an offer I’d have to think twice.) I’m hoping that in time I’ll figure out some of the complexities of it on my own. Till then, humming and squeaking be damned.

-Rant (and ride) on


May Screen-Agers Live Long And Prosper And Walk On The Corpse Of Old Scape-Goaters

Email from an old friend:

Hi Tom,

Search: “SCREEN-AGERS Today’s Adolescent: Why Kindness is Missing” on … and watch the 1 hour 40 min video.

Its a good summary that explains much of what is going on now in many aspects of US culture (and I emphasize US cause it’s the outlier nation in almost every way among “developed” nations).

-Your old friend

Short pause. I tried watching the video. Here my response:

Dear old friend,

Got through about first 5-7 minutes. Please! Please! Please. Video is awful and person speaking fits the mould of college grad behaviourist unable to come up with an original thought. Also. She is supposed to be an educated and trained specialist yet she has the vocal-burn of a teenager! As usual, without original thought, what you get from educated adults is: scapegoating. And this is scapegoating of a very special breed. What is this obsession with young people, btw? Why don’t you put more energy into analysing the behaviour of adults, the people in the cesspool of suburban and urban (insert your #Americant city here)? You should be more worried about people/adults that are dependent on dept, that are racist, that watch faux newz.

The problem is not technology or internet or screens. The problem is young people can instinctively see through what adults are doing or have done. A young person’s brain is not corrupted yet by the $hitty environment older people are pushing (upon them). The brain stem—do some falsely refer to this as the reptile brain?–knows instinctively what’s going on in this environment. Because two if not three generations of #Americants have failed-upward in every aspect of their lives they have created an environment of blame (scapegoating) to avoid (their) reality—and it is shameful that it’s being thrown on young people. This is what happens when you can’t think creatively—and your personal and social growth is stunted well into adulthood. This is the environment that gives way to the filth-propaganda of faux newz, info wars with Alex Jones, and of course President Stupid.

BTW. Where are the teenagers that are the cause of President Stupid?

Obviously, young people are in trouble. Their reptile brain knows this. I can see this in Europe, as well. But technology is for most of them an outlet—just rock-n-roll was for us. Or maybe occupying the home phone chatting with friends while we were young. The social norms that kids have to deal with in schools these days is a huge problem. The cause of that problem is not a screen. So perhaps the norms that are dictated by wealth and greed of fail-upwards, mindless parents—NOT by technology or teenagers–should be the issue to address!


-Rant on

Worst-Writer Newz Break: From Russia With Luv Or Porn In The Voting Booth

The thing to keep in mind, dear worst-reader, if you are at all confused about the whole #Trump colluding with Russia thing, is this: nomatter what happened during the campaign and nomatter what the Russians did, the #Americant people, in collusion with a manipulated Constitution and its Electoral College, were the only ones who voted in November of 2016. Nobody else elected this moron to the highest office of the land. And so. Those who voted republican and those who did not vote for Hillary, you’re to blame for this krapp. Also. If you voted that way, then you are the one that colluded with STUPID and have given the world more than just #Trump. I mean, seriously. I never thought I’d say this. But I’m actually starting to feel bad for President Stupid. This moron is in such trouble–and he obviously doesn’t know it–that one can only sit back and watch the freak show. While doing so one can even shed a tear or three–not over him but instead over the fact that a once great nation-state–indeed a grand social experiment never before seen on this earth–is now nothing more than a nation of abysmal brainlessness galore. Of course, considering recent visit with the Russian two-bit dictator, those same tears might suddenly freeze up and turn into diamond bullets. Those bullets might then be propelled into the brains of the brainless. The bullets, upon penetration, will then shatter and splinter into a gazillion micro-titanium pieces of shrapnel that literally liquify the innards of humanity. This liquid will then become the cesspool of fun-galore that you must waddle in while never considering what you have done by electing this man to the presidency. And so. Long live President Stupid and his rule over Stupid! Long die those who made him. As for the rest of (worst-writers) who only bitch & moan, may the computer screens of voting booths continue showing free porn till the end of intellect-time.

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on


Newz links that motivated this post:
Big baby #Trump walk-back failure | DailyBeast
Guess who tries to reverse Russia thing? | BBC
President Stupid “bleeding badly” | Alternet

The End Is Nigh Or Tech World Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Own EVERYTHING

Screen Shot 2018-07-18 at 07.56.45
Screenshot of ending/closing AWS account

It’s finally over, dear worst-reader? Indeed. Not only have I been paying AWS something like $4 a month for the past year for services I had no idear if or how I was utilising, but I’ve even gotten rid of all those domains I wasn’t using that I bought so many years ago thinking I would go beyond I get it. I should pay for domains. But paying for “ec2 cloud synthetics” or “route53 surcharges” or or or! So I guess I’ll be saving some money in the near future. But that’s not what this cancellation is all about. I bit off more than I could chew thinking I could handle AWS and hosting my/this blog there. As stated in my previous post, there’s something wrong with a tech company that doesn’t really do anything except offer a platform where others can sell the stuff they do–but then this mediator-like platform is also trying to own everything having to do with the transaction. I mean that’s the gist of Bezos, Facebag & Co, etc., or? That there isn’t a law long since passed that declares my data and everything that I do on the #interwebnets as mine and only mine and only I can decide what is done with that/my data… Yeah, we live in those times. And everything that Amazon represents today is creepier than ever when it comes to data and the #interwebnets, baby. Anywho. The creepiest thing about AWS, i.e. Bezos’ backend of owning everything, is the worst of the worst when it comes to creepy. Not only does Bezos probably think that he can rule the world with his current stock price but he also thinks that by getting either individuals or organisations to utilise his fancy idear of re-selling the tech that he set up to create and maintain Amazon he can own more than the world. And I’ll have no part of it. The interface of AWS reminds me of Win95 regurgitated. The mass of tools available reminds me of a labyrinth of chaos where chaos isn’t needed. And even though AWS claims to offer a “free-tier”service, I couldn’t find it anywhere. But I suppose that’s how they get you–not unlike those subscription services of yore where you got a few music cassettes for free initially but were then liable to continuously  buy more. But I’m probably off subject. I found AWS waaaaay to complicated to use and the interface obnoxious. And Jeff Bezos, like so many other rich people in the world today, just gives me the creeps. I’ll have no part it, baby.

-Rant on


Something Little More Than Site Maintenance Or How AWS Might Be Comparable To GM Of Yore

Screen Shot 2018-07-17 at 16.12.06.png
Screenshot of moving fav domain.

Freeing myself of the juggernaut of scavenger capitalism that’s finally, utterly, taken over tech industry? Indeed. Dear worst-reader. I’ve been worst-saying it for years. Or at least been worst-saying it since that short stint in the advertisement industry–so many years ago–where I had to explain the #interwebnets to a whole host of numb-nut corporate college grads that couldn’t fight their way out of a wet paper bag. Oh what am I saying? I finally got around to moving my domain to a better place. Or at least I’ve moved it to a better place. At the least, I’m already relieved that I, in the near future, I’ll be cancelling my AWS account. Yeah, baby. Pretty scary stuff what Bezos & Co. have/can come up with while scraping the barrel.  Anywho. I’m sure Jeff Bezos & Co. are all a grand horde of nice people, once you get around their Dr. Evil, Data (as in Star Trek NG)–looks. It’s just that, well, I gave AWS a try but found it to be an astonishingly ugly tech environment that in its totality completely feeds off the creativity of others–in the purest form of exploitation I’ve seen yet. And to think that enterprises completely rely on Bezos for the their tech infrastructure! Scary. Scary. Scary. Yes. That’s where much of the tech world is today. Exploit. Exploit. Exploit. Forget creativity. Scary. Forget indeed. Or just check out Facebag & Co. In fact, I’d go so far as to worst-write that AWS might be comparable to what GM was when it consolidated the auto industry so so so many years ago. You know, Buick, Chevrolet, Pontiac used to be their own companies. Oldsmobile, too. (Anyone remember that one?) Yes, AWS is the GM of tech industry. Now remember that when the Government bails out AWS in the future. Let’s just worst-hope that there’s at least a Ford somewhere in tech industry that gives us another choice. (That’s right. When my mother had to buy a new car a few years back, I made sure it wasn’t anything from GM. Reason? GM was bailed out (by Barry-O) but Ford wasn’t.)

But I digress.

-Rant on


Worst-Recipe: Ravioli With Ricotta Mint Lemon Zest, Slightly Burnt

Subtitle of this post: Or How To Fix, Make Delish, Your Kitchen Screw-Up.

There are many recipes like this on the interwebnets. Good luck finding one with slightly burned butter, though.

Ingredients (approximate):

  • Flat pasta, preferably fresh made the night before
  • 200g Ricotta
  • Mint leaves
  • Lemon
  • Olive oil
  • Butter
  • Parmesan

How To:

While I rolled the pasta with our trusty machine, better half whipped up the ricotta. Just put it in a bowl and add chopped mint leaves. Before slicing lemon to get to the juice, remove yellow (only) from skin (the white under the skin is bitter!) and put finely chopped pieces into the Ricotta. Then slice your lemon and squeeze one half into the mix. Add some fresh, shaven parmesan and then salt and pepper. Mix well.

Once pasta is rolled, flattened, circles are cut-out, lay on ravioli cutter and using a finger dipped in water, slightly moisten around the edge. Fill with a teaspoon of ricotta and fold over. The moistened edge helps the pasta stay together. Pamper with some flower and set aside on a cloth.

Btw, due to the circular nature of the noodle cut-outs, there will be some remaining pasta. Run it through the machine and then cut into strips and put aside to dry. Use this left-over pasta within the next few days for lunch. Just boil it in salty water and when “Adante” cover with some olive oil, salt and pepper and parmesan. Delish, baby.

Once your ravioli is done, cook them for about five or so minutes in boiling, salted water. While doing that, heat up a pan with a good, thick layer of olive oil. Add a heap of butter and then mix-in whole mint leaves. Although the olive oil should prevent the butter from scorching, I was trying out my gas burner on my grill and set the heat too high. The butter burnt quickly. Luckily I caught it before it burnt too bad and just threw in some of the “pasta-water” from the pot to calm things down. But the damage was done. Oh well.

Once the mint leaves in the pan have softened, add a bunch of ravioli. Mix and flip till the ravioli is covered with the oil and butter sauce. Salt and pepper and let simmer for about a minute. Then add some fresh parmesan. Mix and flip more. Done. Plate it with more parmesan and pepper if needed.

Although we were in a bit of hurry this evening and I obviously rushed things, the slightly (butter) burnt ravioli was fantastic. The mix of mint and lemon inside the noodles is both refreshing and enticing as it all burst open while chewing and mixes with the oil and butter sauce.

Rant (and worst-cook) on, baby.


Ward Of A Nation

“Thus did the United States government definitely assume charge of the emancipated Negro as the ward of the nation. It was a tremendous undertaking. Here at a stroke of the pen was erected a government of millions of men,—and not ordinary men either, but black men emasculated by a peculiarly complete system of slavery, centuries old; and now, suddenly, violently, they come into a new birthright, at a time of war and passion, in the midst of the stricken and embittered population of their former masters.” -WEB Dubois – The Souls of Black Folk

-Rant on