Cringe With That Cute British Accent

As worst-writer worries about his beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant–you know, that whole twist and wiggle that transcends the thin gap between Neo-liberalism and fascism–what of the rest of the WASP world? Perhaps not as amused as my worst-readers about the whole #Brexit B.S., there is something about watching the enablers fall as I relax within the lap of continental #Eurowasteland leisure. Or are you, dear worst-reader, gonna miss the freak show that is Euro-white-privilege Boris buffoonery? Which raises the following worst-question: if they fall so little is it then falling upward? Yeah, baby. The mantra of the western world post Ronald Reagan: falling politicians equals failing upward consume-to-survivors. Am I wrong. On the other worst-hand. Boris is gonna be quite fine, don’t you know. But I die-gress.

How better to see the reality that the world needs some younger blood to take over things than to watch the highly confused British isles go about its bidness as though a Goliath and David mated only to procreate a glob of snot that may or mayn’t resemble a mouldy glob of strawberries and cream. You know. Politics is getting too old these days. That eighty year old man-walk that Joe Biden performs on a daily basis gives worst-writer the cringe. Not unlike G.B.’s new prime minister and her relatively young physiology that is obviously trapped in the opposite of anything futuristic. Will the likes of Biden, Boris and now Truss fall? Biden and his kinder-gentler conservatism does seem to be working, albeit at a pace that matches his age. The other side of the Atlantic seems to have tied itself into different kinds of political knots–that an eighty year old Brit can’t untie. And so. I keep worst-asking my worst-self as Biden stumbles and Britain belches, when will all this old finally get out of the way?

Oh well. I guess the cringe-fest must go on. Young or old.

Rant on.