I try, dear worst-reader. I really do. In fact, I might have broke my personal record when it comes to days watching at least fifteen to thirty minutes of faux newz. As revolting as that is, I’m glad I got through it–and it’s now over. And so. Indeed. It takes a day or two (or three/four) for me to purge the emotion-driven bat$hit political broadcaster from my (mothers) home–if not my own worst-mind (oh the poison of stupid). Of course, until she met her un-gentleman suitor a fews years back, she never even watched the network of lies and untruth. But that’s a whole ‘nother worst-post. Or?
Allow me this, dear worst-reader, about the un-gentleman suitor. My widowed mother has hooked up with a redneck. There! I said it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m only (obviously) a hop + skip away from being a redneck. Or? #Nomatter.
After my stepfather died I was hoping my mother would take the path of independence. But I suppose for her that was asking for a bit much. Of course, over the past two and half to three years, she’s obviously developed a fondness for an un-gentleman suitor. And. Again. I’ve got nothing against that, if it’s her choice. It’s just that. Well. There’s no other way to put it. He’s one of them… faux newz diehard blah-blahs. And that’s not all. He is also a member of one of them #Americant “clubs” (or is it “lodge”) that oh so emulates the clubs of #Eurowasteland history that gave way to the making of conspiracy-theory #Americant. I’m worst-writing, of course–and without getting into specifically which one–that he belongs to one of those organisations where like minded individuals… also freely wipe away their individualism. You know, the clubs/lodges that sew the seeds of convention, compulsion and the grand #Americant sickness that is: conformity. Of course. Let’s give credit where it’s due. As conspiracy-theories have become the new norm, I can imagine that historically like-minded persons of, say, Free Masonry, are laughing in their graves as to what has become of the once great idear that is now #Americant as it is propagated through the mills of never questioning anything or employing just a hunch of skepticism.
But before I get lost in all my family negativity. At least–if you’re not watching faux newz–there’s plenty of other stuff regarding former president pee-pee-hair and what will hopefully become the perfect ending to a life of grift—that can make worst-moi smile:
Rant on.
-T
worstwriter 