Stuck In High School Taste Land

Moms always ask me, “Why is your son so happy, all the time?” I say, “Funnier dad, happier baby. Plus, he’s got more muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set of Growing Pains with Alan Thicke.”

I hate hearing, “My kids loved remote learning. They got so much more work done. Why should our kids get off so easy? Kids today should be exposed to time sucking meeting overkill the way office space life works in real life or else how else will they develop a much needed tolerance for perpetual, indentured suckitude. Also, the more remote learning becomes mainstream, the less likely our kids will ever rock the Karaoke stage to Teenage Wasteland by the Who with such jump happy, windmill rocking enthusiasm to celebrate those excessively, awkward bummer times becoming less scar tissue heavy downer times in your heart man. You dig? Not talking to you fake news Zionists in bed Mr. Groper no matter what. Your level of comprehension on anything means less to me than Jill Biden’s hair style tips during Scarecrow Appreciation Week, holla, thank you very much.

All guitar players professional or not, have grossly inflated views of themselves like bartenders who rock wool hats within centralized AC splendor, which is a far cry from reliving those Summer Time Blues. Yeah, you possess a more beautiful spirit than Randy Rhodes, got it. Randy Rhodes’s other worldly audition for Ozzy blew a bat out of the Prince of Darkness’s ass from one finger exercise twinkle tap alone. After the Prince of Darkness got kinky with Elvira in his underground wine and cheese cave in his Beverly Hills party pad palace prior.

I’m at the Guitar Store to sign up for guitar lessons and ask the manager there, whose a black dude, “Do black kids come into the Guitar Store today and tell you they want to learn how to play like Vern Reed from Living Color? He’s the black heavy metal version of Hendrix minus the rollicking mysterious personality and big pimping fly guy, feathered Fedora hats in his acid rock friendly wardrobe to enhance his overall pinup appeal. I add, “I remember requesting the song Cult of Personality at a Bar Mitzvah party the second that video broke big. And the DJ had no idea who I was talking about it. DJ says, “Living Color, like the show with Damon Wayans? Nah, DJ Hickey Quickie doesn’t play that.” I clarify, “No the band is called Living Color, not In Loving Color. And how have you not seen the video for Cult of Personality on MTV yet? The video is much less Muslim Brotherhood angry like every other Public Enemy prior, despite Chuck D growing up in an upper middle class suburb within Yenta breath country in Long Island.” Later, I point out to the black store manager how the lead singer of Living Color is actually Danny Glover’s son and add, “They should change the name of the song Cult of Personality to reflect our post woke oppressed times and rename it, Cult of Hollywood Royalty instead. Do you think Danny Glover had Mel Gibson give his son’s demo to the head of Warner Brother Records after doing Lethal Weapon together? Or did Mel resist the request because he avoided meeting Jewish music producers like Phil Spector more than Holocaust film retrospectives on AMC.” The black manger of the Guitar Store was shocked when I told him about Danny Glovers’ son being the lead singer and songwriter of Living Color. You’d think I told him that I thought Kevin Hart was hardcore hilarious all of a sudden, as opposed to being another mildly amused, short on laughs spectator like the rest.

How much social anxiety did Durant face when the press questioned his leadership prowess, after Team USA lost exhibition games against Nigeria and Australia? Right wing reporter from Brietbart Sports asks, “Kevin, you talk all this smack about being a big time leader. Who get’s the best out of others like Lebron or the way Chipmunk Chucker did with Golden State this year, with less reliable shooting options available after ANTIFA wildfires burned up every safe space shoot up, dose off playground bench left in Portlandia. What do you say to all your critics, who are more in the right to question your ability to inspire the will to win no matter what, among your tinier, less endowed, coddled teammates, Damian Lillard, excluded? Durant says, “Go woke yourself honky. I didn’t know Nigeria went to Hakeem the Dream, Dream Shake Camp free of charge. Plus, I didn’t know team Australia hired ex Bulls center Luc Longley to train their big men on the down low, down under. Luc had a more reliable jump hook than Draymond Green ever did. Am I coming down too hard on aw shucks Draymond now? Well, Draymond Green should be able to take what he dishes out, knowing how much punishment he delivers below the belt already.”

Who prices the art for Hunter’s blow paintings that blow exactly? The Tooth Fairy of Beijing who leaves 500 grand under his Chinese silk pillow every time he cuts his tooth into another masterpiece as a reward for giving up blow for blow painting like Tom Hank’s kid whose more into being the black sheep rapper wannabe in the family instead.

Friendship litmus test for borderline old school fair weather friends. Text the links to my past 4 comedy records in a row and give them one month to get around to hearing one. If they don’t, I’ll be forced to place an ad on Craig’s List for another ego jerkoff buddy, comfortable enough in his own skin, to tickle someone else’s balls without throwing their back out while trying to suck off their own inflated sense of tempered emotive resistance in the process. Although, I’m not a complete poverty case. My old sales boss, who used to let me do new material at work in our office in One Penn Plaza above MSG got back to me already and said, “Too funny. You’ll make it, just keep on doing you. I think I’ll name my next comedy record Hardcore Hilarious after all. Thanks again for the stage time Larry. You’re a shining example of how standup mensch’s matter to.

Michael Kornbluth

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