Book a hair appointment at Kids Style for my 2 sons, AKA, Stud Alerts On the Loose. Over the phone I say,” “Get ready for guaranteed gorgeousness galore. I refuse to send them off to Junior High without a lawyer on their person at all times to hand out pre-poundage consent forms since jerking off post Zoom became our last safety rail left. Older woman can’t help but flirt with my son at the grocery store, which is flattering knowing how my star powered seed emanates from my Do It All Dad Year Tree Trunk. One said, “When you get older, you’ll have 3 girlfriends to juggle.” I said, “If James Woods had this kid’s face, your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.” His older brother, the Sun Butter King of Croton Falls is a dreamy crossbreed between River Phoenix and Kevin Costner despite his Grandfather’s Indian name back on the streets of the Bronx being Trips on Curbs. So, in essence, my son Millionaire By 10, AKA Feather Foot, AKA Art Show USA would be the ideal pin up for Aryan Teen Beat in 4 years, if this picturesque pure blood clone wasn’t contaminated by dad’s dirty jew blood to fuck up the party for Swastika nation. And how stupid looking is the Swastika symbol? I don’t care if it’s a photo shopped Hindu symbol, it still looks like 2 Stick Figures doing a 69 on a see saw, on government grade crystal meth, who made the Nazi’s think they could conquer all of Europe on it, until Eisenhower’s army helped demolish their Master Race theory into the ground, after Jesse Owen’s made those Kraut breath bastards choke on his star dust from afar, like Denzel Washington on the set of Empire. Because deplorable is anyone whose glad Jussie Smollett took a shot. But on the lighter side of things, this is me instructing my son Kosher Klaus Sushi on how to avoid antisemitic backlash at school while teaching his friends how to play to Dreidel at school. “Arthur, when the Dreidel lands on Gimmel, don’t say, “Give me all your money. Because the chosen people control the Federal Reserve and all the banks in the North Pole to.” Challah, thank you very much.
Later, the kid stylist says, “Does your son want a booster seat?” I say, “Does he look like Dr. Gnocchi?” Latino stylist laughs long time, the times are more receptive to edgy energy electric, thank God, Challah. Thank you very much.
Michael Kornbluth
Do It All Dad Year Podcast Blog 