Befriending a Black Editor My Size

I need a black editor . Who doesn’t mind a good Bruce Jenner joke. Who also loves Kayne’s emancipated mind from MSNBC. Will the dreamy love child of RuPaul and James Baldwin please stand-up?

But why limit myself to only black editors my size when butch black lesbo editors work for me also. Because neither one will be threatened or bothered by my imposing 6’4 frame or a fan of Joy Reid. So will be Kumbaya .

Do I befriend a black editor my size or a black butch lesbo one?
I could attend Knicks games with my black editor. New York Liberty tickets I couldn’t give away for free to my daughter with Uber fare & Magnolia cupcake money.

Growing up, my dad says: “You need taller friends”. He knew I’d outgrow my New York Jewish, Japanese American ones. Once they became petty peons after I exerted my manhood as a cold calling IT headhunter for hire and as an open miker on the stand-up comedy stage.

“I need taller friends dad? “Well then sending me to sleep away camp in Connecticut versus Zaire wasn’t in my best interests. Mutombo would scold you right now for walking into that smack back big guy.”

Thus far, I’ve got an impressive track record impressing black comedic luminaries with my emotive, super tight praise on Twitter. This A list group includes the late great Dick Gregory. The pre-curser to Paul Mooney who made it ok for him sit his black ass down for entire 1 hour sets, doing politically pointed jokes, taking his sweet ass time in the process. Dick Gregory was the 1st black comic to headline the Playboy club, rocking the cool cigarette look before Redd Fox coked up the image a bit for even greater, clownish, hilarious impact. According to Tommy Chong, Redd Foxx is the only comic he knew who could do 1 hour of political and 1 hour of sexual material in a row as easy as Carlos Menica stealing it in paid succession.

I also scored a like from Charlie Murphy before he died a dream maker on his own. Becoming a star headliner comedian post Chappelle show against the dying of the light. Without having to rely on Mr. T voices and deflective homophobic material, giving Kevin Hart a good run for his money. Also, add the great Robert Townsend, writer and director of the timeless enduring classic Hollywood Shuffle to the list of A List, larger than life comedic luminaries for me as a kid whose liked my twitter love directed in their honor also. And Robert Townsend is the black, Gary Shandling as far as I’m concerned.

Once, I got a callback for a Paul Mooney sketchy comedy show held at the now closed down jazzy club, Lennox Lounge in Harlem. Paul Mooney was Richard Pryor’s best bud and only stand-up joke writer ever. At 1st, Mooney refuses to shake my hand stating “I can’t shake your hand because that’s the hand you grip your dick with.” But then I state. “But Mr. Mooney, I just read your book.” And the chip on his shoulder for my obvious white privilege went poof like when Kareem got to be the new king of Westwood at UCLA but not really. Later, the great Paul Mooney passes me before my audition as I’m sitting down getting ready and he says to me “I hear you’re funny.” What a country.

I also got a picture with Ziggy Marley in the Oak Wood Apartments, my last semester at Ithaca College during my abroad program in the San Fernando Valley, in Burbank, CA. Otherwise known as the valley of rape wood and Vivid porn entertainment. Obama said to some reporter recently how he loves to no longer be president. Now, he can clam bake in Malia’s dorm room at Harvard and act like a fake news deep, bi-racial Marley.

This is my impersonation of Obama this past Thanksgiving. “Malia, you barely touched your Tofurky. It’s been months since they pumped your stomach at Lollapalooza. How many times do I have to tell you? Adderall, malt liquor and Martha Stewart’s almond weed brownies with Snoop on an empty stomach, never been sicker.” Malia replies. “Daddy, I lost my appetite because everyone at Harvard wants to know why you’d let me intern for Harvey Hair Clumps Weinstein.” Obama replies in flippant, take a chill pill fashion. “But Malia, Michelle was your chaperone on set of Girls. And that fat Jew couldn’t pin down Michelle if he tried.”

Either I befriend a black editor who appreciates the ballsy hilarity of my Obama kill blasts or I’ll be left with no choice but to kill it as an Executive Recruiter for the XFL in Stamford, CT in 2019. For once, calling Kaepernick Fake News Fro on social media won’t make me a victim of white reverse racism. Oh, no he didn’t. Yes I did.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

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