Mega Ton Hits

“Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”

Gustave Flaubert

I don’t want my wife coming out of my mouth, especially after I got COVID from going down on her prior. How else do you explain my itchy esophagus?

At my age, I don’t care about getting my wife off when she can’t be bothered to suck off fumes of my mega ton laugh blast hits at the grocery store prior.  I say, “It’s colder than Harvey Weinstein’s old casting couch at the 4 Seasons. But at least his wife of 12 years finally left him to focus on her lifetime battle with… amnesia. At the same time, Ashely Judd isn’t a real victim of rape. Ooh, she refused to watch Harvey Hair Clumps Weinstein shower himself down in his 5-star suite at the 4 Seasons. Granted, Ashley Judd being a native Kentucky gal, has plenty of experience judging fat pigs at the county fair.”  Portly, yet cheery grocery store worker releases a hearty stream of much dinero laughs long time, Challah. Thank you very much.

Daughter says, “Meat is murder.” I reply, “But you had no problem killing off that plate of Everything Kosher Tenders, made with a homemade honey mustard sauce because it was made with love as I continue to slay mama’s claims of infinite superiority in my presence again and again, so I’ll take it.”  I used a killer combo of everything bagel seasoning from Stew Leonard’s, panko breadcrumbs made in fake news Japan I’m assuming, in addition to grinded up in-house made sesame loaf bread from the local Italian grocer DiCiccio’s to create the mega blast breading hit, responsible for blowing your local bowling alley’s chicken tenders of frost burn balls yesteryear into disintegrated pieces of sad sack smithereens.

I fucked up by making the homemade honey mustard sauce with mayo, instead of vegan mayo, which stripped the holy shit nature of these Everything Kosher Tenders but didn’t realize I made this oversight till the following day. So, I can’t fret too much for forsaking God’s commanded Kosher law in the service of showing my kids the unmatched delicious might of homemade love versus store bought condiments that make you feel like half a fag for being a half ass Shishy dad bitch in the process. Also, by making homemade condiments such as Honey Mustard sauce, infused with love, you avoid circumcising your happiness like settling for burnt Starbucks espresso versus sucking down 80 percent of a homemade French pass to your head instead.

If I have one overriding message to teach my kids, one I wish my father implanted into my creatively jacked head ever was how much half-assing things sucks moose dick. You have to be nuttier than my Nutsy Russell’s for thinking anyone will return palpable, fully felt love of any kind, if you ass anything like claiming powers of independent thought, when you’re enamored with sharing links of Tucker Carlson rehashes on Fox News, knowing the same man used a Grateful Dead song from Mars Hotel, Ship Of Fools, as the tile for a book of political essays to give marble mouthed Greg Gutfeld blue balls of less fawned over suckitude in comparison, who’s still not arousing sustained stiffage among anyone in his presence ever. But seriously, how can you respect another lazy brain, fake news Journalist for Vulture or the Atlantic, when they get triggered by another ho-hum, one note, serially boring ass monotone, emotionally divorced monologue from Tucker Carlson, when it was his wife hiding in the closet in a sea of leftover dirty, Vineyard Vine boxer briefs when ANTIFA came knocking at his home address in D.C, not the other way around. The same Tucker Carlson who named his book of essays after a Grateful Dead song from Mar’ Hotel, in addition to Morrison Hotel by the Doors, which is the double whammy of wannabe be poetic pronounced shame. Tucker Carlson doesn’t have one pothead friend left from Boarding School since he left CNN for Fox News. Interviewing Kid Rock after the fact because he’s got a new record to sell about COVID damage done, doesn’t count, Challah. Resist This Neil Young, thank you very much.

So, don’t be a lazy brain minion like deviated septum Hunter, who only heard last from the bathroom stall till he gave up blow for blow painting allegedly. Be really gay about pleasing your kids with the extra effort in whatever you do to make them happier in your presence like when you involve them in making Far From Winging It Wings with a homemade barbeque sauce, that’s so holy shit good, your own meat adverse eating daughter, will claim she likes better than your Leo Lox Scramble Supreme, which again is good work if you can get it. My youngest Samuel Chosen Curls Was Bound To Woo sucked the succulent meat off the bones dry and said, “Daddy, I sucked all the meat off the bone, the way Papa’s father did.” Who says, ancient biblical traditions don’t matter? Granted, my grandfather who died before I was born on my Dad’s Jewish side never recorded a comedy record called Funny Enough Fagala nor used a Pomegranate Molasses squirt bottle squeeze adding to his homemade barbeque sauce, but he was never a shadowbanned stay at home shemale comedian who had as much free time on his hands to forsake half-assing fatherhood with.

Regime change starts at rebuking past governing laws of doing what’s edible good versus dedicated your soul towards making mega bomb hits that crack the sky with holy shit, wow worthy, third servings are around the bend magnitude, which points toward the right way to do things by unearthing the extra special sauce love inside us all.

Michael Kornbluth

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