The Zamboni Artist

“No friendship is an accident.”

O. Henry

If a husband googles an ex-girlfriend 3 kids later, does it mean he’s officially divorced from great expectations at home? At the same time, what man isn’t guilty of reflecting fondly on spoiled summers past? Especially, when you’ve had to suck up another frigid east coast winter in the face of permanent career stagnation suckitude again. The same winter and so-called comedy career that felt colder than Harvey Weinstein’s old casting couch at the 4 Seasons when you’re not laughing all the way to the bank yet. But at least, Harvey Weinstein’s wife of the past 12 years finally left him, to focus on her lifetime battle with amnesia. Now, Solomon Kornbluth, a proud stay at home podcast comedian was on thin ice with his wife of 12 years for failing to make any money off his sheets of comedy gold, despite him urging his accountant to write off such an awe inspiring, sparkly array of A plus gemry dissemination on his Do It All Dad time blog and Do It All Dad Time podcast as a generous charitable donation.  What 45-year-old non-industry repped, so called Comedian, Solomon Kornbluth wanted was a win, but not just any win, like getting another comedy record Mega Dumb Daddy reposted on Sound Cloud again by some random, faceless music promo service, but an actual trophy, symbolizing how in this instance Solmon Kornbluth was best of the rest.

Solomon Kornbluth had won some awards in the past, but they weren’t a result of superior mental toughness, sustained physical dominance or a result of outperforming his competition for number 1 champion bragging rights either. Winning Most Improved Basketball player at Sleep Away Camp was an incredibly moving moment for Solomon Kornbluth because despite not knowing the full extent of it yet, he was an overly sensitive, lonely, shy, nerve plagued fag, who blew off Canteen mixers with the fellow female camp members to shoot hoop and read his Cracked comics in bed alone instead after cranking one out to freckle face specked Allyssia Rody, a counselor for the female camp who wore University Maryland boxer shorts, creeping up her supple, spry ass as Dice would say back in the day. And her mountainous cleavage formation was a thing of immovable, feast worthy beauty as those gorgeous melons dangled like luscious lobes of mouth drooling inducing perfection. Ok, so maybe Solomon Kornbluth wasn’t 100 percent gay yet, especially knowing how a fellow bunkmate tried to shame him once for owning a jar of Vaseline while having no idea what that meant. Bunkmate Jordan from New Jersey says in a crackling, just a day over puberty voice, “What do you need that Vaseline for Solomon?” And Solomon says, “I don’t know, for an itchy ass. My mom packed it for me.” Bunkmate Jordan laughs in a slightly demented, pseudo bellowing manner and says, “You can’t blame your mom for being a fudge packer dude.”

Later, on his Do It All Dad Year podcast, Solomon Kornbluth would do a routine about Sex-Ed in Sleepaway Camp throughout the late eighties before Magic made HIV disappear. He says, “Do 3rd graders today really need to know about scented lubes after using good old-fashioned Vaseline became passe already? When I was 13-year-olds at Sleepaway Camp, but still not into the puberty party yet, one of my bunkmates gay shamed me for my mom packing me Vaseline yet I still didn’t get gay lube joke connotations used at my expense till watching shemale porn decades later on 3rd Legged Beauties.com, if you really to know. It’s hard to develop any surge of self-esteem at Sleepaway camp, when you’re the 2nd worst athlete there after the Shiek’s son from Great Neck in yenta breath Seinfeld country. Seinfeld otherwise known as the “Joke Doctor”, just auctioned off one of his vintage Porsche’s for Charity. I hope half that half of those proceeds went to Larry’s kids. I also don’t want Seinfeld smirking for at least 5 years till he gives us a semi-credible excuse on being completely oblivious to Bill Cosby’s 4-decade reign of rape throughout fantastic LA, up high in those Hollywood drugging hills. Where were your powers of observation, then, Jerry? Also, why isn’t Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens in the Hall of Fame already?  They were already Hall of Fame bound when I used to collect their cards at camp. Plus, if I took HGH, Testosterone Shots or any form of performing enhancing drugs at Sleep Away Camp, I just would’ve struck out at a more accelerated speed.”

Solomon Kornbluth never got into collecting hockey cards until his friend Jared got him into the NY Rangers in 93, encouraging him to buy all the hocky cards he could so he could snag an Eric Lindros rookie card of his own, bound to be worth big money one day, who was being hyped as the new great one post Gretzky, who had a bigger mark on his back than Trump did after her triggered the Swamp with fits of despair for relegating good old Jeb Bush to another low energy, half wit hack for hire like the rest. Solomon Kornbluth targeted Laura Bush in his debut comedy album Resist This when he said, “Fuck Laura Bush for thinking the world gives a shit about her memoir, Texas Librarians Know Best.” At least, Hillary Hammer Time Cankles was willing to get rich or die trying bitch. And this is an impression of Stevie Nicks backstage at MSG, “Hillary, tell me lies, only sweet little lies. Versus humongous bitter ones, like how you lost to Trump because of Russian collusion, involving fantasy tales of Drago Holograms emerging in your voting booth only to threaten you with impossible to ignore ultimatums like, “Vote Trump or I’ll break you.” I thought you lost to Trump because you’re an unhuggable cunt, my bad. You must have deleted that memo to Hillary. And why would Trump hire 2 Russian hookers to pee on him at a hotel in Moscow, when he can hire a bunch of Ivanka look-alikes to do the same thing at his hotel in D.C whenever pussy grabber likes?”

One time Solomon and Jared got caught shoplifting Hocky Cards at Child World, yet the security guard let them off with an ominous warning, when he said, “I’m going let you 2 go, but understand the only reason I caught you 2 was because you came back to steal again and got greedy.”  This damning, ominous indictment of greedy self-serving behavior always stayed with Solomon Kornbluth who obviously didn’t pay homage to the commandment Thou Shall Not Steal one iota for some time after. Even his younger brother shamed him into stop stealing Turkey Jerky at Gelson’s as the ultimate shishy bitch life enhancer back in the day. Little bro says,” “Never steal, it’s wrong bro” And this is years after his younger brother, AKA Sir Snort A Lot, was caught on a security camera stealing thousands from his parents ATM to buy more blow at 13 years old in Washington Heights from Julio Silver Blade The 3, which resulted in his parents shipping him off to boarding school with a bunch Jew picking on Hocky jocks in Avon, CT. So Solomon Kornbluth knew what a steep price his parents had to pay for his younger brother’s crimes of incessant, serially serving selfishness like a pseudo slacker underachiever Hunter in the making, who never had the privilege of being able to collect 52 grand a month from a Ukrainian sports drink company for pushing Borscht as the new Kombucha.  

One day Solomon Kornbluth got burnt out on making the world laugh for free on his Do It All Dad Time Podcast again and went to the local hockey rink for a cheap Happy Hour special and was greeted by an Italian bartender, Vinnie Zamboni the 2nd, who’s known to stir memories of ex-girlfriend’s past. Vinnie notices how Solomon Kornbluth is a tad low energy, hunched over his phone without much fiery glint in his eyes. Vinnie says, “Is that IPA stale champ?” Do you want something a tad lighter that’s more poundable like any yenta breath from Long Island on Spring Break?” Solomon Kornbluth laughs and asks, “What’s your story? Bartenders never make me laugh, unless they’re sporting a winter wool hat in summer.” Vinnie says “I’m Vinnie Zamboni the 2rd, my great, great, grandfather invented the Zamboni machine. I do the light shows for the hocky rink. My Zamboni driving days are behind me, cool job though when your 16. I plowed my fair of share of ice queen boxes on top of that puss plower machine. Solomon says, “What type of light shows do you produce? The one at Hayden Planetarium is boring, I felt asleep 2 minutes into it. Daughter woke me with a sharp elbow in my ribs and I yell, “What, God only made Neil Grase Dyson interesting for 2-minute spurts at a time.” Vinnie Zamboni The 2nd laughs and says, “You’re a pretty funny guy yourself. So, what’s bringing you down champ? Solomon Kornbluth says, “Just longing for some fun in the sun again, 2 unplanned kids later. That’s what I get for being a degenerate pothead who keeps on forgetting to ask his girl if she’s on the pill.  What’s bringing me down is realizing how I’m getting bored of my kid’s company and need to get back on stage again. Plus, my pinched nerve in my back is killing me since my wife forced me to see a Hate Speech Therapist since I stopped taking Adderall to focus less on how ahead of the curve annoying my wife can be after droppings lines such as, “I’ve sacrificed. She acts like an aspiring comedian in his early thirties wanted kids ever.  I’m doing a Google Search for a chiropractor, and I end up finding my ex in Hawaii who I met when I used to live in Hermosa Beach. How could I ever forget Summer King beyond those Hermosa skies? Then, I googled a comedy festival in Hawaii, but realized it’s been canceled because of this COVID damage done bullshit, so it got me down because I know I can win it. The only awards I ever won was Grooviest my Senior Year in High School and Most Improved Basketball Player at Sleep Away Camp. I was also wined and dined after leading my IT agency sales office in billing one month and got to party it up in the Sunset Room in fantastic LA once but that’s it. my But I want to win that comedy festival and blast off away in my comedy gold mobile wave runner, which nobody will ever be able to take away from me. George Gershwin lives, Challah, thank you very much. If I can’t afford to get my son the SS flag GI-Joe Aircraft Carrier for Hanukkah, at least I can let him ride my comedy gold wave runner mobile. How much would gas cost to ride that wave runner back to New York exactly? I’m still so broke, my Hebrew name is under Judicial Review.”

Vinnie says, “So I produce light shows flush with holograms of hocky legends both dead and new like Bobby Hull, The Mighty Messier, and reenact legendary fights like when Ty Domi fought Bob Probert in 94, when he poses with the belt around his waist, boy were those the days, pre-social media, before you had to hear lines on kids shows about some character being the Lebron James of stem cell research. What the fuck does that even mean? Is he a celeb Scientist that has his own brand of tequila spiked umbilical cord stump smoothies that he sold to Bill Gates for a cool 500 million or what? Can you believe kids today get Beyond Meat tattoos around these parts? I freelance as a Tattoo artist for my brother’s Tat Parlor in Danbury, CT called Body Art USA.”

Solomon Kornbluth says, “I’ve been telling my local Pizza owner Frank to make an artichoke slice using an alfredo cream sauce, versus just a boring white slice with flaccid, deathly off-white artichokes on it, that will inspire hipsters from Bushwick to make the schlep down to these parts just to Yelp all about it. Plus, I’m getting pissed about Bill Gate’s equestrian riding daughter already owning half the real estate in North Salem already. So, I love the idea of Frank being able to grab a meatier slice of that synthetic pea protein, beyond meat pie.” Vinnie says, “So whatever happened to your Summer Wind? Solomon says, “She smiled at me one day with her soul blasting eyes that screamed I love you, and for some strange reason, my eyes didn’t love her back. One time she died her blond, when I took her out to meet up with a friend of mine in Nappa and everyone thought she was a high-end prostitute, because she dressed real classy sexy with the tight dress, creeping up her ass. I loved kissing Summer King. We’d do weed shotgun kisses together, which were the best. We made veal piccata while watching the Soprano’s together, drank Pyramid peach beers by Hermosa Beach and nobody sported prettier feet in the sand than Summer King. Vinnie says, “Summer sounds like a real trophy wife material.” Solomon says, “Yeah, she even said, “Why don’t we move to Santa Barbara so I could write books and she could day trade to make us money for the time being. Boy, did I fuck that one up. Vinnie says, “I hate to bring you down more than you already are Champ, but you’re right.”

Solomon Kornbluth says, “Summer liked Metallica, Wu Tang, the Soparnos and loved everything about me. She thought I could be a big-time writer just from reading my Friends spec script for Christ’s sake. Vinnie says, “I already told you fucked up bro. I’m known as the ex-girlfriend stirrer but you’re just progressively pissing me off for being such a dumb fuck for expunging her from your life jerkoff. You don’t think I want to kick back in the sand with a hot Asian gal from Hawaii in pebble free Hermosa Beach with a gal named Summer King no less for Christ’s sake” I had to suck up summers in an ocean full of seashells and fucking nets of seaweed in Norwalk, CT for Christ’s sake. Plus, my brother owns this rink and its family tradition to keep it family operated. You’re a little old for it, but do you want a job riding a Zamboni? We’re already running around in circles, so why not take your sad sack sob story around the ice for a couple of laps because you’re bringing me down and enraging me at the same time. I’m paraphrasing but Mark Twain said writers write interesting stories who’ve possessed a series of interesting, varied jobs, so why not a give the Zamboni driver job a shot champ? You obviously have nothing better do with your time on a Sunday, ultra-wise King Solomon you’re not.”

Solomon Kornbluth took the job and smoothed over the rough patches with his wife at home before being promoted to chief Zamboni manager, who worked on his MC skills as the host of a weekly Karaoke night, rocking out renditions of Baba O’Reily with real deal star powered authority. Then, one year later, Solomon Kornbluth got his trophy and won the Aloha Comedy Festival, coming in 1st place and was able to take his wife, and mother of 3 children for endless, killer spins in his new comedy gold mobile for one memory rich victory lap after the next after, delivering a killer set for the ages that started off like this.  

Solomon Kornbluth Kills

It’s hard to keep cool when your kids were forced to wear masks like Michael Jackson’s kids on holiday in Bahrain.

If Michael Jackson were alive today, how would he defend himself against all his Neverland accusers exactly? Would the King of Popping cherries say, “All the Beatles royalty points in the world, can’ t buy me love?”

Anyone try Snoop Dog’s new wine?  According to Wine Advocate, it tastes like mouth wash used in porn hood hell.

Actually, gave up drinking beer last summer. It got humiliating spending so much time, hungover, recycling, endless reminders of my lush, littered past, as entire Rocky Marathons on AMC passed me by.

Did you know 4/20 is Hitler’s birthday? After learning this, I felt more betrayed than the time Sly Stallone snuck Mel Gibson into Expendables 3.

Stopped smoking weed till I discovered weed edibles, which are half CBD because I felt like a total moron trying to answer my daughter’s questions on the pure sticky stuff. Daughter asks, “Daddy if God created the universe, then who created God?  I say, “God went back in time in a Time Machine made by Elon Musk. Daughter says, “Real convincing Daddy. Thanks for making me an Atheist at 4.”

And this is Ziggy Marely being interviewed by High Time Magazine. Ziggy, how did your dad have 7 kids? Doesn’t ganja drain your ball sack dry? Ziggy Marely says, “Fake news, MAN.”

And if Obama is such a baller, why did he ride the bench at an all-Asian private school in Hawaii?

What if Bob Marley became President of the United States, so Obama didn’t have to? For starters, there’s no more trouble and it’d be a punky reggae party tonight and we’d be jamming in the name of the Lord, not in honor of Allah’s Gangster ruining paradise, especially since the hopeful one rebranded ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more start up friendly in the NY Times.

And ISIS Headhunters aren’t good recruiters. All they do is target other lonely virgins on Face Book Messenger like Good Will Hoodie/AKA Zit Face Zuck, who wish their phones blew up.

But killing the number 2 in charge of ISIS made it easier for ISIS to recruit. Like the head of recruitment for ISIS would ever honor a non-compete agreement with Al-Qaeda.

And why are radical jihadists so into deflowering virgins in Allah’s hymen hacking Paradise? Doesn’t Jihadi John have enough blood on his hands already?

Other text in the Koran also promises the duration of sex greatly prolonged and its pleasure enduring. Spoken like a like a true Virgin asshole till the end of time and I feel fine, Challah, thank you very much.

Solomon Kornbluth was later blown up to smithereens on his Comedy Gold Mobile Wave Runner in the Red Sea by Hamas terrorists after headlining a comedy tour there called, “King Solomon Kornbluth Lives”, because a 2-state solution is impossible if Hamas keeps fucking.

Still, what’s better than a 1st place Trophy is a new award in your honor, given every year at the Standin O Laughs Festival in Haifa called the Killer Kornbluth Award, honored to a comic that year, who exhibited fearless, killer shtick till his last dying breath.  

All 3 of Solomon’s killer Koshertarian kids won the Killer Kornbluth Award in their dear dad’s honor soon after. So comedic royalty in the mold of King Solmon Kornbluth did live on through Do It All Dad’s big three after all.

And Solomon Kornbluth had his new Zamboni Artist friend to thank for his victory laps in his Comedy Gold Mobile, taken with his 3 biggest fans in the universe while squeezing on to their dear dada with all their loving might in his custom made, stretched 3-seater Wave Runner. The same team who always stood by his side, especially when his comedy career was ice cold, when mama would threaten to kick him out the house whenever the mood struck, and not even Hamas, despite them trying, could ever that away from thee.  Unplanned favorites rule, proving once again how no friendship is an accident. O. Henry lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Korny Kornbluth

Was Korny Kornbluth sick of surviving off laughs, or wasn’t he? Being funny and spinning the most comedic gold out of his God given imagination was important to Korny Kornbluth because it made him feel most alive while riding on the shoulders of funnier, hardcore giants of laugh yanking song before him like the late great, always scariest elephant in the room, otherwise known as the Grand Poobah of hack attacks of Comedy Cellar past, Patrice You Better Fucking Know My Name by Now, O’Neil.  How could Korny Kornbluth not relish conquest rich memories of killing at the famed Comedy Cellar in Greenwich Village even it was only for a punchline powered sprint for 5 minutes at a time? Especially when Korny Kornbluth’s rapidly trusting funny man instincts paid huge dividends after throwing in an ad lib line which drove the crowd into a deeper, more aroused state of room enveloping ecstasy when he said, “I used to live in LA. I don’t miss the driving. But I do miss road head, especially along the Pacific Coast Highway, whenever I’d drive by the sign that said, “Malibu, 37 miles of scenic ball blasting bliss.” Only to flirt it up with a couple of banger pretty college girls from NYU close to the stage and add, “Did you girls just call shotgun?”

One time doing extra work for a film with Kristen Bell called When In Rome, Korny Kornbluth sampled one liners on a hot actress extra with a SAG card, which gave him sustained stiffage, whenever he got laugh yanks out of her long time because it made him feel like real deal funny man on the rise by being able to touch her on a deeper, more expansive, inside widening manner than any of his predictably dronish one note friends from high school ever could.

Korny Kornbluth uses the term friends from high school loosely because he didn’t feel particularly close to them anymore because friends want to hang out with each other and after Korny Kornbluth fell in love with his girlfriend during their sweaty sex period, where he’d manage to elevate the bed in her Greenpoint apartment despite his ferocious poundage downward, which defied all laws of gravity all together, the interest to seek out their company rapidly depreciated and flat out disintegrated after his 3 glorious, snugglet shine rich kids were born.  This jerkoff hot to, aspiring actress extra on set of When In Rome made an illuminating insight when she said, “You like to be naughty, don’t you?” Korny Kornbluth could’ve inhaled her on the spot for showcasing such insightful fervor in his honor. Reality is, Korny Kornbluth was a self-esteem strangled kid who was constantly stuck in his head throughout Junior High, who only came bursting out of his head, after he finally kissed a couple of girls in Israel one summer during a Masada Teen Tour, leaving one girl with a hickey from hell outside of Mount Masada no less as if he was the horniest novice zombie zygote alive. But now, 6 or 7 sales job later, whether it was slinging ads for the Village Voice, CitySearch or the billable techie gold talent of software engineers while working as an IT agency recruiter in both LA and Manhattan, he started to question his funny man chosen path because he had been fired more than a Palestinan Sling Shot. All of a sudden, Korny Kornbluth contemplated the brutal reality of being too over the top edgy for his own good.

Korny Kornbluth wasn’t overtly over the top edgy to appear cooler than he wasn’t. He was just being funny, so he thought. But what if Korny Kornbluth was headed in the wrong direction to nowhere? What if Korny Kornbluth alienated old friends and family members because of his raging desire to always be on, 600 podcasts and 91 comedy records later? What if Korny Kornbluth proved to be too overpowering for others to bear, which made them feel like ineffectually, cheesy hackling weaklings in his presence? Or was Korny Kornbluth just guilty of glaring egotistical overreach on the behalf of his perpetually swelling noggin again and again? How the fuck was Korny Kornbluth going to make money off his endless sheets of comedy gold at 45 years old during the cancel heavy culture of 2022 after producing comedy records titles on Spotify such as The Day Democracy Died and COVID The Clown exactly? You can make the argument that the best thing going for Korny Kornbluth was how he didn’t have an enviable, profit rich career to cancel just yet. He released a political album Resist This at 43 years old, the same age of his comedic idol Rodney Dangerfield released his debut album, I Don’t Get No Respect before he broke big and was able to support his family by slinging jokes versus aluminum sliding for a living for good. Korny Kornbluth actually used his IT agency background and cold called Rodney’s grown up daughter when he launched his Do It All Dad Year Podcast 5 years ago and after getting her on the phone he pitched, “I want put a spotlight on your father Rodney, the original Do It All Dad star, and tell the world about how he turned down a residency in Vegas and opened up Dangerfield’s on the Upper East Side of Manhattan as his own personal work out lab space to test out new material for the opportunity to be a more involved father at home.” Tremendous pitch I know. Still, Rodney’s daughter declined. Rodney’s daughter deciding to sell private footage of her dad’s heavily workshopped, money maker Vegas act to Comedy Central for a documentary about him pre-YouTube without his permission doesn’t portray the ungrateful bitch in the most flattering light anyway. No wonder why Rodney suffered from depression and found perpetual solace in the magic green to sooth his achy, weary weepy soul. Regardless of how many more killer sets Korny Kornbluth produced on his Do It All Dad Year Podcast, he wasn’t going to book any appearances on the Late Show with Colbert with jokes such as, “Our state of the union today is like Colbert’s handle on funny for the past 5 years and counting, shaky. It’s too bad Bill O’Reilly is no longer important enough to impersonate for a living. At least at the time, Bill O’Reilly gave Colbert Gravitas. Or how does John Stewart does not question the wisdom of Obama Be Good’s nuke gifting deal to Iran with more hardcore sardonic bite on the Daily Show franchise he built before Comedy Central decided to resign his woke successor Trevor Noah for the foreseeable future?  Why did Stewart only direct his comedic venom at W only, whose best friends now with Ellen, which proves what a non-divisive, evolved comedian she is because Ellen is pro Bush all the way. Why not ask Obama, so what do you consider your greatest accomplishments as president besides rebranding ISIS, ISIL so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times? Or why not make fun of the 1.5 billion Obama bequeathed to Iran, Israel’s number one enemy and largest sponsor of worldwide terror worldwide, that was used for overseas job creation for Vermont’s own Build A Bear corporation to make the Iranian economy less reliant on the sale of hair removal cream for the Kardashians?

Korny Kornbluth was already kicked off Twitter for constantly stating how the COVID vaccines worked less than Carmelo Anthony and Russell Westbrook running the Triangle Offense for the Showtime Lakers in Los Angeles, California, insisting the new caped duo should become the official spokesperson team for Tampax Tampons. Because name another bitchy faced pair throughout NBA history, that’s been responsible for stopping so much flowage. So Korny Kornbluth wasn’t getting on the woke Grantland Podcast with Greenwich, CT bred nerd Bill Simmons either, especially since the NBA’s sole existence existed to be nothing more than a safe space for Lebron James ego. The lion share of Korny Kornbluth’s comedic blast targets received diplomatic immunity against charges of black supremacy racism on Twitter and beyond like King Of The Persecution Complex Lebron James, AKA, America’s Most Hunted. So what could a proud, practicing killer Koshertarian Comedian do to make money from his funny man writing for his family when Twitter allows terrorists in charge of Palestine from Hamas to keep their Twitter profile up and running, knowing how a 2 state solution is impossible to achieve if Hamas keeps fucking? How could Korny Kornbluth ever build a profitable online presence through selling his comedy records, audiobooks or podcasts on Patreon after her got banned for being a hate speech disinformation machine by defending Israel’s right to defend itself, that he compared to a nation flush with acerbic Kyle Rittenhouse’s at large? Because if you launch 5000 UN funded rockets into Israel’s backyard Hamas, Terrorists Are Us, don’t expect an edible gift basket in return, with a thank you note in return written in Farsi, with all the hardened pineapple tops chucked in the Red Sea.

Regardless of Korny Kornbluth’s propensity to bludgeon your unasked-for ears with a tsunami of a plus loaded gemry made for these times in his eyes, Joshua Prize was capable of mixing the profane and heartfelt better than most because unlike other guys from his senior class of 94, he considered himself far deeper than the eighteen hole. Korny Kornbluth wrote funny love poems of all sorts for his wife of 11 years and 11-year-old daughter Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth, AKA, 10 Homer Daily, to prove the totality of his ego wasn’t wrapped up into receiving funny man approval confirmation long time all the time. Still, Korny Kornbluth used humor to process his rageful feelings stemming from being denied a living at being a funny man writer as a paid blogger, vlogger, copywriter, podcaster or professional standup comedian because of his far from edgeless digital imprint after working as a Hair Metal historian Comedian as the Head Writer of America’s Hard 100 on Vh1 Classic no less, while blatantly turning off every booker this side of the eastern seaboard with his debut comedy record Resist This, that included joke blasts that proved to be a tad too radical racist for their tastes such as, “I just read about an all-girl Muslim prom in Detroit. So, the prom was like mine, pork free. And stop calling ISIS good recruiters, all those Headhunters do is target other lonely virgins on Facebook Instant Messenger who wish their phones blew up.”

At this point, Korny Kornbluth wasn’t prepared to give up on getting paid for being professionally funny, but TV no longer offered the allure of steady employment in fantastic LA since the city of blue ball wrecking dreams descended into an extended tent city sponsored by REI. Nor did Korny Kornbluth possess the tolerance to endure lesser hack comedians in his eyes, plow through their meh sets while waiting for his turn to kill, knowing they all played it cheesy safe compared to him, which was twice as lame because he didn’t think he was doing anything blazingly original outside of tripling down on being his unapologetic, reclusive rocker shredder self all the way. But what if Korny Kornbluth started to care more about making his kids laugh the most with funny fast short stories he semi-performed on his rebranded Pause Daddy Podcast, super funny fast stories for you and me? What if Korny Kornbluth performed these funny man stories like a Jewish Paul Mooney, the Black Zappa in his eyes while sitting on his far from straight ass for a change? What if Korny Kornbluth decided to chill out on dropping his killer catchphrase “Can I get a holla for some Challah?”, every other 2 seconds while in essence sucking off his material long time all the time again and again for a change? What if Korny Kornbluth played it semi-safe for change and decide to dramatically lessen his over-the-top edge to help increase his chances of a lit agent offering a letter of representation on his material’s behalf, if they could locate their ball sack this century, God forbid?

At 45 years old going on 46 in April, who gives a shit about impressing your so-called close friends from high school anymore? Especially, when those same dudes never aroused any jealous feelings of in-your inferiority compared to them ever. What if Korny Kornbluth focused a new book project called Year Without Beer instead of making more comedy records for a change? Writing a Year Without Beer would be a loving homage of sorts to Rodney In Easy Money and would be much easier to achieve off Adderall, assuming an occasional weed edible was always at arm’s length as a mini reward on Shabbat after the kids are asleep to give Korny Kornbluth’s creatively jacked brain a well-earned rest for a change after splitting a bottle of wine with his lifetime partner in love wife, Snuggle Up My Shaft, Duffy Kornbluth. What if Korny Kornbluth stopped giving a shit about his slighted, picked upon teen soul despite him not possessing the means to fight back through soul powered righting punchlines at the time while Kurt Cobain slept under a bridge, dreaming of the perfect time to raid his grandma’s closet for a throw away sweater to wear on MTV Unplugged, after Courtney Love’s claims to self made fame without him and Billy Corgan helping her co-write the rock masterpiece Live Through This, started to become rapidly undone? What if Korny Kornbluth stopped fretting about being pushover putzy in Junior High before he developed fists of fury in his forties from wrecking one Everlast chained bag after another, before allowing his beautiful seed son Hardcore Hunga to wail him in the face while the Rocky 4 Soundtrack blared in the background, as a continued form of flinch freeing therapy?

Rocky Marciano never lost a match because he invited the pain and always remained on the offensive. But what if Korny Kornbluth after turning 46 went on the Love Speech Machine offensive for a change off the speedy demon Adderall barking in his ear anymore, to bitch and lash out at any less creatively impaired human being who ever dared to question or criticize his funny man chosen path in the 1st place? What if Korny Kornbluth rebranded himself to the podcast universe as the Love Speech Machine through his super funny fast short stories on his Pause Daddy Podcast, which some could argue is reflective of his original, pure self in the 1st place because he assumed nuclear attacks on all who made him feel like an ineffectual, worthless jerkoff who failed to provide for his family the way he knew was capable of doing? Although trying to become the Desmond Child, Hair Metal power ballad writer maestro for Bon Jovi who penned hits such as Living on A Prayer and Without Love for the Hallmark channel wasn’t going to pay for his kids Bar Mitzvah party catering bill, let alone future trips to Budapest, Hungry with his beautiful wife and 3 kids, to soak up the soulful, majestic edge of the Danube to inspire for more family friendly tale adventures that could give Adam Sandler triggered jealous moments of despair for once in the Golden Jew’s life either.

Korny Kornbluth was always triggered by more manly writers like Hemingway knowing how he boxed Kangaroos for fun, yet Hemingway was a humorless bore as a whole who blew his brains out, so who gives a shit about Hemingway being taught in English Literature classes despite Old Man and The Sea being another stellar example of excellent, concise, immaculate, sturdy strong prose at work? That’s not who Korny Kornbluth was or ever would be. What if Korny Kornbluth become known as the Zamboni Artist and got a job driving a Zamboni at the local hockey rink, so he could afford to buy his daughter state of the art skates during Hanukah for a change, and start creating more winter land rich memories between them skating together versus Dad locking himself upstairs only to lash out at the propagandist media again with more divine powered, evil condemning authority on comedy record 5000, Mega Dumb Daddy, God forbid? No, Korny Kornbluth would end obsessing over the need to feast off Lady Laugh long time all the time because if his wife ever did kick him out of the house away from his 3 favorite people in the universe, Samuel, Arthur and Matilda, best home team ever, his world would become darkened overnight, stripping Korny Kornbluth of the zest beneath his wings, that contributed to him becoming the empowered funny man with a plan to search and destroy. Iggy Pop lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Moving forward, Korny Kornbluth wouldn’t abandon his need to get laughs, but would put that incessant, all-encompassing need on the backburner and not give it as much prime time real estate in his heart anymore, in favor of growing closer to his kids and wife, though focusing on writing stories, which celebrating his inner love speech machine because he wasn’t considered Korny, The Emotor Kornbluth on Yelp back in the day for nothing. Hacks criticize for a living and never create. Like famous classical composer Jean Sibelius said, “No statues were ever built in a critics honor.” Now, Korny Kornbluth would let his love light shine on what brings us together versus what drives us apart, despite common hatreds possessing a huge binding element in us all like unhuggable cunt Mother-In-Laws who force eucharist on her Jew blood tainted grandchildren for starters.

Now, Korny Kornbluth would focus the totality of his being not on being less cheesy, because he wasn’t that cheesy in the first place, but focus less on the need to be perceived as never cheesy ever, God forbid.

God blessed Korny Kornbluth with beautifying love of the highest magnitude for a reason and it wasn’t to solely make wisecracks from the sidelines of life for a living while not celebrating the binding beautiful within us all either.  Korny Kornbluth never wanted to become professionally funny for the money, fame or endless selection of new tight puss selection galore. It was because he finally found something he did good a job at, that offered the potential to achieve greatness with that wasn’t a decision made by his fucking parents on his behalf either. Plus, showcasing an early flair for laugh yank generation was encouraged by others he admired and looked up to growing up like his dearly departed Alternative School Teacher, the perpetually dapper, always unflappably sharp cool funny, Judy Cook, especially after a post pubescent Korny Kornbluth returned a new man from the Land of Milk And Honey with a lighter glint to his step Senior year after giving the hickey attack of 1993 before Nirvana killed off the glorious, crazy train reign of wonderful Hair Metal sleaze more so than Aids ever did. Plus, when Korny Kornbluth got laughs as an air guitar shredding teen or as a bombastic, punchline blasting middle age encroaching clown now, he no longer felt like a highly disorganized, pushover putz breath, no more, no more. Aerosmith lives, Challah, thank you very much.

But that was 28 years ago already. And Korny Kornbluth was more comfortable in his last kid to get into the puberty party and bloom under his Fruit of Looms skin now, having written well reviewed self-published books like Controlling My Kids With Comedy, A Love Story and The Great American Jew Novel while still having new books to sling and complete such as The Koshertarian Comedian and Waste Of Height Really, Short Stories. So finally one day, Korny Kornbluth decided to lay to double down on the cheese factor and propose to his wife the concept of renewing their vows in Australia, the place of her birth, assuming their COVID damage done mandate passport bullshit was lifted. Still, it’s the cheesy thought of renewing his vows to his wife and mother of his 3 beamish kids on Mother’s Beach only for him to recite a new poem in her lovely honor called, My American Dream. Because like the late great Hair Metal crooner legend Jani Lane from Warrant once bellowed shrieked with big deal redemptive oomph, in Sometimes She Cries, “Maybe, give love one more shot, yeah.” And doubling down on love was worth the shot, or else Korny Kornbluth would be circumcising his happiness like forsaking ballsier, fuller flavored Double IPA’s in his mid-forties over measly pale ale’s despite Sierra Nevada being the pale ale that never get’s stale.

My American Dream

My American Dream lives in my heart. Because of her, I’d never want to depart.

My American dream was made in the land down under.

When real deal love came to live in my heart, it shook my core like sky splitting thunder.

My American Dream gave me the freedom to spread my funny man wings, which has been an endlessly arousing heaven on earth fling.

Lady Laugh is a booty call who’s always a blog post away, yet what I want more than anything now is an actual payday.

I’ll get any job no matter what it entails, so we can dine al fresco again as I watch you eat snails.

Providing for your family more than laughs and gourmet meals isn’t cheesy.

It’s just that giving up the dream of making people laugh for a living all together yet isn’t so easy.

Shell Silverstein lives, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth