#OkBoomers Be Gone. Please.

As I point out here or there in this worst-blog, I’m not a fan of my own generation. Especially the #Americant portion of that generation1. But. Dear worst-reader. Not only can we NOT choose our parents, we are also stuck with the generation in which we are born. With that worst-said, I’m as tail-end as you can get with the #okboomer generation (DOB: end of 1963). Some post-boomers might even consider me as part of the next generation–notwithstanding my ill-fated and somewhat anti-nationalism stance and the brilliant worst-writer coinage: #Americant. Still. With that in worst-mind. Get a load of the New York governors latest diarrhoea of the mouth. And to make it worst… how many times does he use the misnomer: we’re at war? Seriously! At war? With the flu? I know. I know. It’s a pretty bad flu. It’s a really bad flu. But it’s a flu of our own making, don’t you know. And how little that is addressed while the idiots of the #okboomers try and show their smarts yet all we see are the arses in the middle of their faces moving as though there is no tomorrow. And by-the-buy, this influenza $hit has been going on for how many years now? Anyone talking about how it might, just might, relate to the politics of Neo-liberalism (i.e. political greed conservatism 2.0) of the past fifty years, including globalisation that #okboomers are holding on to as though it was their old-hag mother’s teat? Whether it’s swine-flu, SARS1 or the current SARS2 (Covid-19), bird flu, Mars, H1N1, etc., #okboomers are all out there and in front of cameras emulating President Stupid and talking about fcuking… WAR. Are you kidding worst-moi! President Stupid, the man with hair that looks like a puking possum just pissed on cotton candy makes the same claim and all a somewhat rational thinking Democrat (as in party) automaton Neo-liberal can do is repeat it? How original #okboomer! But let me get-off the subject of personally attacking the President of THE LAND OF FREE TO BE STUPID. Let’s get-on, instead, about WAR. You would think, dear worst-reader, that the one thing #okboomers could get over in the #Americant mindset of post WW2 stupid-ville, i.e. that which bred them, is the concept of everything being about war. But then again, it’s all #Americant has really done since Fascism one-upped uncle Adolf and z’Germans lust for Blondi. And let’s not forget the longer fight against Stalin culminating in #Americant squandering the so-called COLD-WAR. I mean, the #Americant military industrial complex(ity) is everything in a land where–even if they tried–they couldn’t turn off the lie-of-the-mind that is faux-newz. And. I mean. There was the post 1970s mindless surge named Reaganomics, which could only lead to #Trump, aka, an idiot b-movie-star replaced by an even stupider b-tv-star, that preoccupied both the #okboomer mind and the parentage that is the ugly, disgusting, perverted greatest-generation mind. (Fcuk them too, btw!) Then came, maybe, the Dotcom boom, which (I’m guessing) half of the #okboomers hated because it forced them to choose–as in choose a mind–because, well, they were never meant to understand the art of at least trying to make science fiction real. And we all know what happened to the Dotcom boom, eh? But before I get too far off worst-subject. This post is supposed to be about #okboomer failing miserably–as it’s always done. Yet it walks and talks as though it were a winner. A winner of WAR. And so. The #Americant dream is alive & well, baby. Just don’t have a good look at it as it may up-end you, too.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.


News conference about war against a flu–and it’s all about ‘war’? (Video)

  1. And be assured, the German portion of that generation ain’t much better. ↩︎

Ununderstanding Or Toilet Paper Saga

wet wipes

A previous worst-post about ununderstanding is here.

Asked my wife the other morn, dear worst-reader, what the hell does the graphic mean in the pic above. Do you know what she said? That’s right. She said: “I don’t know either.” At which point I turned to her and complained, once again,: “What the hell is your Abitur for?”

For the worst-life of me, dear worst-reader, I don’t get what the graphic on the back of a wet-wipes package that I recently bought is about. What the heck is toilet paper > wet wipes > toilet paper supposed to mean? Of course, it doesn’t really matter. For. Don’t you know. There’s currently an issue with toilet paper in the (western) world. Go figure, eh. But that’s not the reason why, instead of buying the usual two-pack I bought two two-packs the other day of wet-wipes. (Why didn’t I buy more?) Indeed. I bought them because, well, my dog, Beckett-the killer pug, requires them for his under-carriage. He has what I like to call an artificial pee-pee-hole1. I use wet-wipes to wipe my dog after every walk (three x day) so that our house doesn’t smell like…

But what of this issue with toilet paper in the western-world during an ugly flu pandemic that caused me to buy a few more wet-wipes? One theory that comes to my worst-mind–and perhaps it’s somewhat motivated in the conversations I’ve been having with person A though B through Zed–is this: why panic over toilet paper? Well, here’s a few worst-thoughts on the issue:

  1. One person said it’s because all the old people who are dying are dying with the memories of a world, a world they think is theirs, where toilet paper was scarce (when they were young).
  2. Another person said that toilet paper represents the gap between boredom and achievement when people are forced to face their useless-eating habits without the false (fake) work ethic that is compulsive behaviourism.
  3. In a world where the meek-masses COULD have all the power but rather heed that power to others (western democratic politics) because they can’t face the truth about their useless-eating albeit privileged lives compared to that of a newer generation, then wiping their asses is a last achievement before they die.
  4. Wiping their asses without soiling themselves is the last great achievement of both the greatest generation and #OKBoomer because, well, look at all else they’ve done that has culminated in not just SARS-2 but also #Trump, President Pee-Pee-Hair.
  5. Etc., etc.

But I digress.

Rant on.


  1. One day, about five or six years ago, we realised that our dog wasn’t peeing. I rushed him off to the Vet who immediately informed us that we had two hours to make up our mind. Either we put the dog to sleep or allow him to perform an operation that would re-route his urinary tract as the natural tract was kaputt due to clogging. ↩︎

The Delusion Compulsion Show

deplorables 2

Disclaimer. This is a somewhat NSFW worst-post (due to links).

The delusion and compulsion show, dear worst-reader, is a show that is #Americant. I mean, again, delusion plus compulsion is the new & improved and forevermore DREAM that is engrained in the #Americant psyche. Just like TV, eh. Or? In other worst-words, where it once was about a house and a family, it’s now… not.

As I’ve worst-written time and über-time again, my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant’s main error in the grand experiment of pseudo-freedom (wild-west and John Wayne individualism run amok) that is currently culminating in Mother Nature having HER way with us (climate change virus), is due to the instilled belief system that self-determination (delusion), manifest in the misnomer of hard-work (compulsion), is that which will set you free. And, don’t you know, dear worst-reader, as my favourite philosopher-comedian George Carlin said–and I worst-paraphrase:

The winner of WW2 was fascism.

In other worst-words: something else is going on here.

What better example is there… of being made to work against your free-will… than fascism run amok albeit wearing a grand smile? Mickey Mouse and Disney anyone? Of course, let us not out-fake ourselves with the entertainment industry that was/is the anthesis of George Carlin. For, don’t you know, dear worst-reader, the creed of fascism most surely relates to both delusion and compulsion as the two unite in an orgy of well distributed cumshots that glisten our faces better than that of a shinny donut. And so. It is incarnate in the idear of that other WW2 creed:

Arbeit Macht Frei (work will set you free)

Since there have been a few people around and in-between all the greed of today’s f’d up $hitshow who have questioned and perhaps thought critically about things, their effort has been for naught. How do I know such a thing? Well, would you believe that the bottomlessness of #Americant conservatism has just reached a new nadir? According to a(typical) $hitbag talking head, who is but another delusional voice of the compulsives, he (ain’t it always the men?) is claiming that it’s OK for some people, mostly old people, to die in order to save the precious stock market and/or the economy. Seriously? But of course. It’s #Americant.

And to top things off, according to another article, #Americant conservatism is in full approval of what President Pee-Pee-Hair is doing as the head of (their)… delusion. And in case you’re wondering, here’s my worst-theory on why the $hitbag & chief is so popular. Since President Stupid’s base is pretty much made of those who 1) did what they were told in life without question or criticism (compulsion) and 2) believe the riff-raff, trailer-trash talk (delusion) of #MAGA and thereby continue to support him, they derive their energy from those who came up with things like Deplorables, NAFTA, and blowjobs that so pleasurably end up on blue dresses. But I digress.

The part of #Americant that is all-in on the delusion, which they never questioned or criticised, are watching their #OKBoomer parent’s lungs turn into Bill Cosby jell-o the same way their 401k’s are the new Cinderellas lying full naked in glass caskets made ready with lube for double penetration. And so.

If you haven’t noticed because there is only a grain of rational thought in your entire being, the $hitshow has a long way to go before it finds its end–which will be determined by how many people die and how much you suckers have to pay for their deaths.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.



Rich vs Poor And The Preordained

all worst

Obviously the rich always win, eh, dear worst-reader? What better example is there than President Pee-Pee-Hair? Or. I should add. What better example is there of those who think, believe, are deluded about being rich and thereby vote for President Pee-Pee-Hair and/or those who enable/facilitate #Americant and its über convenient electoral college? Which may or mayn’t mean, those who made it happen must all be really rich just like the huckster-president and that hair of his. Or? And so. Aren’t we all winners, too? I mean. As long as there’s the mantra: the meek shall inherit…, why else shouldn’t the $hitbags of the greed $hitshow be the winners-take-all of the every-nothing? And/but you’re right, dear worst-reader, if you guessed that not all idiot-voters who voted for President Pee-Pee-Hair are rich–as though I hadn’t already alluded to that. And so. And so. Welcome to the/your conundrum of confused white-man privilge. Let’s try to worst-explain. Or maybe not.

As the Coronavirus (SARS-2) and government inadequacy forces us down the ugly rabbit hole of fear and self-wanton idiocy–or have you not hoarded some toilet paper?–let’s have a worst-look at what’s really (maybe) going on. The other day I heard the leader of the #MAGA movement refer to Coronavirus as the China Virus. After doing so, he was questioned by a (real) reporter (as opposed to a softball reporter) as to why he’s referring to it that way. His response was, well, as good as any response a WASP bigot can give. He said something along the lines of because it comes from China. Which, of course, made worst-moi sit back and say, as I (he) usually say(s): another reveal that is the true face of #Americant uglies, baby. Wow. The $hitshow never gets über-boring with this arsehole running things. Or does it?

Here’s the thing, dear worst-reader. As real as the coronavirus (SARS-2) thing is, what’s even more real is the/a historical fact that any and every national and/or international crisis seems to always results in one group of people or political party or social structure, etc., taking advantage of the other. Or, as Milton Friedman would put it:

“Only a crisis — actual or perceived — produces real change. When that crisis occurs, the actions that are taken depend on the ideas that are lying around.”

So what’s been lying around since, say, (IMHO), the 1950s, that’s enabled the western world, mostly lead by my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant, to always make choices that favour–you worst-guessed it–the rich? I suppose, some call that human nature. Others call it the greed $hitshow. And then there’s calling it the child sandbox of uglies under the stupid shade-screen of red, white and hold your breath till you turn blue-stupid. Then there are those who call it everything worst. Which is what we live in, adore, yearn for and thereby touch ourselves as though there is no tomorrow–or we pretend we’re married to Cinderella who doesn’t mind all the kissing (and abusing) while she sleeps.

Indeed, dear worst-reader. The Coronavirus (SARS-2) will be overcome. Even I, the worst-optimist in the world, believe that to be so. The only question I have to ask, though, is at what cost? What or who is going to suffer once the smoke screen of fake government and fake democracy and, of course, fake-hair is lifted from our shielded eye-brains and we realise we’ve been duped yet again so that rich people can, well, get away with… whatever? Of course, as usual, the disillusioned amongst us all will go about the business of doing what they/we are told, abiding, heeding the call of both bad government and worst wives. Which means, maybe, just maybe, I’m not as optimistic as you may think I am. Or?

#Nomatter. The end is not nigh nor has it ever been nigh. When the likes of not just President Stupid can be elected but those who elected him are never questioned or, at the least, called-out for what they’ve done, including trying to whitewash this crisis by making it racial–even though China isn’t a race–where can we turn for wisdom and kindness and reality–and/or all-things not fake? Well, that’s a pretty good worst-question, dear worst-reader. Good luck with it.

Rant on.




Screenshot 2020-03-20 at 18.02.00

Came across a list (link below) the other worst-day, dear worst-reader. The only question I had after reviewing the list–yet another Bowie best-of list, like all the others, don’t you know–was whether or not I had all the songs–especially since I don’t use music subscription services. Turns out I have forty of the fifty and I’ve been contemplating a favorites list for a while so this is kind of a kicker, eh. Also. The reason I’m missing ten of the list is because, well, I still haven’t purchased Bowie’s last album and my collection is also missing stuff like Black Tie White Noise and London Boy. Of course, another reason for posting this info here is simply because my all-time favorite song is at #5 which caused me to gasp while reading it. WTF! “Heroes” is forever the bomb, baby–easily my all-time fav Bowie tune. I mean, I would have accepted it at two or three–but not five! Which begs the question, what about Fame! Oh my.

Rant on.


PS The reason I haven’t purchased Bowie’s last album is because, well, it would mean I have to face reality. I’m not good at that sort of thing. I mean. I’ve always known I’d get to it and I have most of his music anywho in my collection and… And so. Yeah, maybe it’s time. To face. Reality.


A Real World Leader, Almost

merkel oh natural

Don’t get me wrong, dear worst-reader. As usual, I’m not tooting my host country’s horn. (Or am I?) It’s just, well, I’ve been an expat in Germania, land of the Huns, where the there-where automatons live, where resistance is futile, etc., etc., for the better part of a quarter century. Would I rather live any place else? Sure. Is this my golden cage? You bet. Do I like making schnooki with The Borg? Yeah, baby. But I digress.

There are moments where even I, hater of all things bureaucratic, corporate, and country-sides and country-clubs without-smile, have to give credit where it’s due. Angela Merkel’s speech last night about the Coronavirus outbreak was pretty darn-tootin impressive. Even though she missed out on a chance to mention the EU or other countries, making her speech a bit nationalist IMHO, she did a pretty good job of… leading. Of course. As I was listening I couldn’t help but think of two things.

The first.

I shed tears for my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant. Not sure if you noticed, dear worst-reader, but #Americant is looking more and more like a lost country these days. A lost country where a bunch of un-achieving, privileged white people hang out and get their kicks by spitting between each others toes, calling it a game of life, and laughing at the down-trodden.

The second.

There are a few pockets of humanity in this world. That is, Angela Merkel sounded HUMAN in her warning to Germany to heed the seriousness of what’s going on right now. How often do we get that from a politician? Especially from a politician that leads what is probably the best managed corporate nation-state in the world. At the least, such warnings only come when telling us to maintain (our) poverty. Or so.

I suppose, if I had to compare Merkel and her speech to a politician’s speech of recent, it’d be to New Zealand’s PM after that country’s most recent mass shooting. Indeed. The cheap/cheat product that is most old white authoritarian politicians in the West, especially those with pee-pee hair, couldn’t lead a thistle through a whistle. Nor could the magnanimous imbecilism of #Americant conservatism, that can only be what it is because of all the voters that wear lapel flags both on their suits and their minds, lead a whistle through a pistol. Hence, live by/off the gun of stupid. Or something like.

Good luck, suckers.

Rant on.



Boomer Plague, Face Masks And Toilet Paper

There you have it, dear worst-reader. End-times ain’t (just) nigh (anymore). They (end-times) be here, eh. How do you (we) know? Easy. There’s nothing to wipe your arse with. Don’t know about you, but I’m starting to love the idear about getting a bidet. As I worst-write this, I can almost feel a stream of water gushing around my under-carriage. But let’s not transgress too far off worst-subject–to places you may or mayn’t wish to witness. Or?

What’s the deal with hoarding toilet paper, dear worst-reader? No. Serious. Why are people doing it? Is it because they’re worried about not being able to wipe? Seriously? These people wipe? And as you (I) contemplate the issue, get this worst-thought. One sheet of toilet paper looks similar enough to one of those masks that people wear to cover their face. They wear the masks, by-the-buy, to stop their minds from spilling out what they really think. And so. The masses of stupid people that make this, our beloved earth of STUPID, are simply hoarding toilet paper because, well, they think it’s the same as those masks. Indeed. Toilet paper covers a hole, if you will. It can prevent something from going out and going in, along side, of course, with keeping it all clean. And because so many are too stupid to know anything, they mistake one thing for another. So go out there, dear worst-reader. Hoard yourself some toilet paper as someone else has hoarded all the masks–and others hoard all the money. And whether its $hit coming out of your mouth or your arse, at this point in life, history, a world where the likes of #Trump can attain the leadership of LAND OF FREE TO BE STUPID, it’s all obviously about the money. These are the times you live in. Good luck sucker.

And while I’m on the subject of worst-luck.

Something still lingers in the ever-more of the now which smells horribly like old people aka #okboomers. Do you smell it, dear worst-reader? Whaaaaa? Never got a whiff of old people? Quite the opposite of a newborn, don’t you know. And if you’ve (n)ever smelled a newborn–it’s an experience so much better than the actual birthing process where that bitch screams and yells about how well I fcuked a baby inside of her as the halls of her life squeezed to pin me down, lusting for my servitude, her matrimony our contract, that the beautiful babe she would bear c/would be true to us both in the misery that is fake newz or love. And total contrast to the death that old people espouse, especially in these days of greed galore embodied by #okboomer. Am I wrong? But I digress.

Am I the only one to smell the stench of old people? A stench this grand old earth bitch wishes to be rid of? And do I smell it on account, well, because I’m probably, kinda one of them? Also. Don’t you know. I’ve always had trouble describing (or is it transcribing?) smell. But the comparison to newborns ain’t bad, eh. Is it because there are so many old people these days that is must be compared? What’s the adage? If you’re a fish you don’t mind disgusting, polluted, faeces filled ocean to exist in. You know, as in, old people are kinda everywhere–and they have everything. Which is most likely due to the fact that they took it all–everything–only to leave their smell behind as youth-life slowly perishes or is it dwindles into the long, slow night-wake of greed demise? #Nomatter.

For all impractical reasoning, I’m old too. Approaching the big six-o. Yet I was birthed by the oldest of the generation that is currently the most ill in Italy. Wait. That makes no sense. What I mean is this. I am part of the ilk that is #okboomer but I’m of the tail end of it, don’t you know. I’m the last of what the so-called greatest generation could birth. Which begs the issue: if #okboomer parentage was so fcuking great, why is it that the world is lead by morons, anti-intellectuals, religious $hit-bags, greed-mongers galore? And so.

Worst-writer’s ode to #okboomer.

Oh, old people, I hope you all pass on as you came in. Came in to the $hitshow, don’t you know. Took it over–and made it your $hitshow–from your greed $hitshow parents. Greed and taxes do take a bite, she said behind the medicine counter where just above her head was a sign that read: show your properly stamped passport before receiving your flu dosage. Who has the flu? Come one, come all–fcuk heads. Show the world what you’re capable of, reveal your inner besties. All your drunk meth friends, revelling in the afterbirth of so many missed abortions and the love-forsaken feminism of the grand bimbo coalition where all is not lost as long as you blame someone (something) else for your misdeeds. And now bow to your pee-pee-hair god, #Trump, i.e. President Stupid. For he is yours #okboomer. Reap what you are and keep playing in that fake-gold hair. And before I forget. I hope you all die a miserable death for what you’ve done to this world and your children, especially the young girls you abused. Fuck you, boomer.

Move on (quickly).

Of course, if you ask worst-writer–which you shalln’t–Coronavirus could just as easily be called a disease of STUPID. I know. I know. It’s also a disease of poverty. But let’s not complicate things, eh. You know, as in, a disease my beloved & missed LAND OF FREE TO BE STUPID kinda deserves. For #Americant is the embodiment of both STUPID and poverty. Or? Then again. My beloved & missed #Americant doesn’t deserve all my ridicule out of worst-spite, let’s be clear. It’s just that sheer ignorance is so abominable to me and it is manifest on a daily basis since the advent (election loss, electoral college win) of President Stupid. I mean, how else can a once great experiment in nation-state building be reduced to the likes of President Pee-Pee hair? Stupid deserves stupid, right? Stupid deserves this disease. Or am I getting-on too much about it all? #Nomatter.

What is STUPID’S creed, dear worst-reader? That’s right. Greed. And would you believe that President Stupid is actually trying to secure a vaccine for the disease of stupid for himself. Indeed. He might be doing it because, well, he’s infected. And even if he is (infected), his real motivation is the $hitshow of greed, don’t you know, that is all he knows. He literally tried to secure the rights to a vaccine for a disease that could potentially kill hundreds of thousands. He did so not for the sake of a nation but instead in order to make a buck. Does that surprise anyone? Maybe it surprises a few people. But get this, dear worst-reader. I was born and reared in the $hitshow of greed that is #Americant. Nothing about money and ugly pee-pee hair surprises me. So there.

Don’t believe anything you read about this being a disease of national origin. It is, indeed, a disease of forced poverty and subjugation. And, as usual, my beloved and missed #Americant is leading the way.

Rant on.



Helmet, Helmut And Yo-Yo

Secondary title: Pseudo-Review of the Abus Hyban bike helmet with visor.

Perhaps some of you are too young to know. So allow worst-writer to explain yet another worst-title. In the movie Night On Earth by Jim Jarmusch a really bad taxi driver from the (then) recent former East Germany picks up a New Yorker in New York City and his name is Yo-Yo. While these two drive around NYC and have what Jarmusch portrays as the time of their lives, they also try to figure out their names. That is, Yo-Yo can’t understand the difference between the name Helmut and a helmet, i.e. protective gear one may or may not wear on ones head. Helmut thinks Yo-yo was named after a child’s toy. #Nomatter. The audience is given one of the best comic duos in cinematic history that is only comparable to Abbot and Costello. If you haven’t seen it (the whole movie), give it a look, dear worst-reader. Boy do I miss the days when movies were made like that. You know, creative movies. Works of art. Etc. That worst-said…

Late last summer during what I consider to be the worst bike riding year of my worst-life, I decided I needed to do something about being a bespectacled bike rider. Or have you never been there, dear worst-reader? You know. You’re cruising along and you know it’s eventually coming, and then it does, and suddenly you’re riding through nature as it unleashes rain rain rain rain. #Nomatter what you do, your standard and/or traditional bike helmet (or even hat) won’t/can’t protect your eyewear from being covered in rain drops. And so, when you arrive at your destination, which in my case is usually an out-door market where I gather fresh veggies and sometimes fresh hunted pheasant (from Guido the French/German pheasant hunter), everyone (including Guido) would stare at me with sympathy as they could see the misery in my blurred, foggy, soaked glasses face.

“It’s a bitch riding in the rain, eh.” Indeed.

And so. I decided then and there it was time to take action (which usually means spend money) on one of them new fancy bike helmets that includes a visor. Being the cheap-skate that I am, though, I searched for days both online and in a bike store here or there for a consume-to-survive product that fit my budget. Since this was my first helmet with a visor for bike riding, I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. Hence, this is the moment where corporate branding comes into play and a bit of online research can help–or not. As you can see (pics above), I decided for the another Abus branded helmet1.

Here’s my visor helmet buying advice short and sweet: steer clear from this one.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s obviously a good helmet. It’s well made, it’s very sturdy and exudes safety, and, I guess, it’s practical. With that in mind, here’s why I wouldn’t buy it again and only recommend it with the following thoughts:

  • Feels heavy, huge and bulky and kinda looks funny (on worst-rider’s head)
  • On an e-bike constantly traveling the gut wrenching speed of 25kmh, it’s freaking obnoxiously loud due to airflow
  • Directs air/wind into your ears and as you can see in the pics, I’m jimmying2 it to see if I can better control the airflow (I don’t think it’s working, though)
  • The chin strap sucks and is uncomfortable with or without included chin strap protector, which I’ve ripped off and thrown away while singing good riddance motherfcuker
  • Mechanism to adjust chin-strap length detaches but luckily, since it’s magnetic, when it detaches I don’t lose the connector but I have retraced my riding path after I thought I lost half of the strap connector only to realise the strap had come lose but the connector was attached to the other connector, blah, blah, blah (see pic with red pointer)

The good news is, even though I wouldn’t buy it again and all of my complaints have not motivated me to send it back, the adjustable visor perfectly protects my glasses from not only rain but also cold wind. And that’s a big deal, don’t you know. It’s a big deal on account, at my age (pushing sixty, bitch!), cold air constantly blowing in my eyes can be quite irritating. Oh. And. I bought the friggin’ thing discounted, about 80-,€. It’s retail price was well over 100,-€ (at the time). What a bargain, eh. (Sarcasm off.)

The main problem with this helmet is the airflow along with its weight and size. When riding it feels as though cold air is being directed to my inner ear. Also, because of airflow, it’s friggin’ loud. This winter I’ve been riding with ear plugs plus a heavy skull cap that covers both my ears. Since I ordered the largest (size) helmet, I can fit quite a bit underneath it. But. Again. That makes it large and bulky. It does have an easy adjuster for fitting and/or tightening it to fit your head. The visor is easily adjustable too but airflow is influenced whether it’s up or down–again, making it either loud or louder when riding. Luckily adjusting the visor is no problem, even when using only one hand, i.e while riding. In warm weather the helmet is hot, and when it’s cold, well, you get the picture.

Is it well made? Yes. Does the safety light on the back work? Yes. Is it safe? I guess it is–if not for the weird, cumbersome chin strap. But at this point, the only reason I wear it, needed it, is because it’s been raining for months and months and months. Not a day goes by that I have to ride and it’s not raining–since friggin October of last year. And so. The only thing good about this helmet is that it’s great for protecting my glasses/eyes from the weather.

Rant on.


PS. Yes. According to the pics above, I voted in the Democratic primary via Democrats Abroad of my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant. As a former Democrat, and considering the direction THE LAND OF FREE TO BE STUPID has done since, gee, I don’t know, the end of the cold war, Bush and his wars of choice and, now, of course, President Stupid with the pee-pee hair, I thought it appropriate if I voted for a democratic socialist that might turn #Americant socialism for the rich into a bit of socialism for the down-trodden. Since it’s becoming more and more obvious that Bernie ain’t gonna get the nomination, I’m still glad I participated. Or maybe not. Oh well. Rant on, baby.

  1. We only have Abus bike helmets. For motorcycles, though, I prefer Shoei or Arai. ↩︎
  2. Fiddling, rigging, changing it, etc. ↩︎

Pseudo-Review – Charger GX @ 10k

Let me start this worst-post by saying that 2019 was a bad riding year, dear fellow worst-rider (worst-reader). Due to circumstance beyond and above worst-riders control, I was unable to complete my self inflicted, obligatory yearly riding mileage, which corresponded with falling into a depressed state of inner self loathing that I get every once-a-once due to expatriation mistakes galore, among other worst-things, and also corresponding with falling off this über-e-bike a few times here and there. To make things worst, it feels like the whole of 2019 happened when I was, well, full of drink. Or was I? #Nomatter. I’m not full now. And as worst as all things are/be, the fall I had last October–or was it September?–that limited my riding even more, simply meant that I was extending the life of my über-e-bike on account, well, it wouldn’t be ridden all that much. Or? More on the misery of 2019 here.

So get this, dear worst-rider (worst-reader). I finally hit ten thousand kilometres the other day on my über e-bike. Cool, eh. Well, it would be cool if I hadn’t ran into an old couple I know that also own R&M über-e-bikes. They purchased twin red Nevo’s right around the same time I purchased my Charger GX, about three years ago. When I told them about the mileage I’d ridden they both snickered and the old lady pulled me over to show me her odometer. Holy krapp, I thought in a glorious deep breath of shame. These old gizzards (geezers?) had over 30k on their e-bikes. WTF! And so. Am I the only one that hates it when I’m put in my place?

As far as my Charger GX is concerned, there’s not much to report that I haven’t covered already. It’s still running like a champ–except, of course–for the battery. I’m only getting fifty kilometers out of it right now. I’ll be looking into a battery replacement sometime this year. A dealer told me there’s a battery cell company not far from where I live. They actually replace the cells in Bosch batteries instead of having to replace the whole thing. If I do it, I’ll post something about the experience. Other than that, I’m on my third set of brake pads, which I recently replaced. By-the-buy, I also (finally?) replaced the original brake pads on my wife’s Charger Mixte. Her pads lasted for about 4000km. Considering that my Charger GX brakes are used much more than the brakes on the Mixte, I’m a bit surprised that they didn’t last longer. Oh well. Also. It’s a bit of shame that these two bikes require different brake pads. But that’s the $hit$how of greed and being nickled & dimed that we all must dwell in, eh.

I am still very impressed with the recent change (urbanisation) from knob (mountain bike) tires to moto-x road tires. I have to admit, though, after a few recent romps through some local mountain areas, I could have used knob tires. It’s not that I don’t like the Moto-x’s off-road. I love them. It’s just that when it’s wet, as it’s been for months here, there were a few areas where I had to get off the bike and push to continue on my way. Indeed. Muddy shoes n’all, including a few sketchy moments akin to riding on pudding, I’m still not ready to return to loud, hard, obnoxious knob tires. I mean, it can’t rain forever–not even in dreary Germania–which means the ground has to dry out sooner or later. Or?

Anywho. To those few who read it, consider this post my last Pseudo-Review for the Charger GX. Any further posts will just be about e-biking.

Good riding you-all.

Rant (and worst-ride) on, baby.


Adults Room?

let us pray.JPG
Your government–and YOU–is being run by this?

I get the whole church/religion thing. Seriously. Spent a few nights and days here or there reading THE BOOK. The good book, don’t you know. Actually enjoyed parts of it. I especially like what Thomas Jefferson did with it. But I also have to admit that the Book of Revelation has left me somewhat scarred if not horny. And so. Religion–these days–should somehow be left to rational people. You know, like artists and creatives–to those with no power. These are the types who can take its grand literature and make some sense of it, don’t you know. Think Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, Beckett (Sam), etc. If you don’t leave the grand good book to those who can think rationally then guess what happens? That’s right.

#Americant, baby.

Good luck suckers.



But Hasn’t It Always Been This Way?

screenshot 2019-01-26 at 08.47.32

Keep in mind, dear worst-reader, the/a bigoted #Americant nutjob in any suburb near you ain’t no different than the one in the link below or the pic above. Wait. Hold the worst-presses. There might be a slight difference. The bigoted nutjob from the burbs probably ain’t as willing to take one up the bum as long as you praise the tattoo on his upper back. Then again, such a sight of Richard Nixon–in times like these–might be just what the greed-doctor ordered to turn the last remaining nutjobs into the sodomites they were born to be but somehow have avoided all these years in the name of repression, repression, repression, including #Americant suburban hetero bedrooms, the submission therein, to the almighty $$$ that bends, and all hail the submissive wives of evermore. Or maybe not.

And by-the-buy, if you want to see/listen to how #Americant talks with a bust of Richard Nixon on its back, including how it behaves, what makes it tick, give a listen to the video in the link below, too. And so. Ain’t Roger Stone the dream-boat all #Americants have been waiting for–as it lays way to Sodom and Gomorrha? Indeed. Reap what you sow, baby.

Good luck suckers.