Withering Ties

Dad says, “Can you believe it? Mom stayed up with Sil and Shelly till 11 playing Pinochle.”

I say, “It’s too bad Me Me, can’t score points by crashing around her grandchildren at a hard 7 without fail. But sucking off the fake news legend of her 2nd born 24/7 would suck me dry Dad. At this point, I’m positive you’re used to feeling like sloppy seconds in the relationship. I know you question how were related, join the club, but at least now at the height of Jonathan Gina Mania, 2 wrecked cars, and one narc gun blast later, you can identify with being the sloppy second one after all. I know you’re the only child and you became an A plus narcist to overcompensate for your cold, distant, 10 -blocks away mother in Queens who never offered to babysit me when I lived next door, surprise, surprise, but you get the gist. Still, can’t believe you can’t recall one nice thing my old maid Mosey would say after looking after me for 3 years in a row in Queens before you moved to the suburbs in Westchester, so I could have my own panic room to cry it out in. Because fuck the overrated school system in Edgemont, New York. You and every other parent who moved from Queens or the Bronx to the more snuggle soft confines of Westchester County, just moved there because in a house in the burbs, the buttressed cries despair are easier to bear.” Withering ties, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Michael Kornbluth

Owner Of A Heavy Heart

Welcome to Rough Talk Rules, I’m your radio host Solomon Kornbluth, helping you work toward better tomorrows without your deadweight conversationalist ex friends and romantic partners of years past. And today is Dumping Tips Tuesdays, but first let’s take a call from Robert Gauler in Stamford, CT. Hi, Robert, what’s weighing down your heart today?

“Hi, Solomon, what’s weighing down my heart today is being unemployed during the Passover season again.  I’m losing heart from receiving more rejection emails from employer’s that read, “What kind of a moron are you today? For thinking, you could mosey your zero leveraged, broke down ass into our loving arms after a 5-year vacation life as a Stay at Home Dad, I mean sheltered bum, jerkoff. You’re obviously optionless and friendless in this world right now for a reason. Blog stats we can’t verify don’t count as give a shit credentials for our copywriter position that requires at least 5 year of agency copywriting experience. Sharing mock print ads for Woodford Reserve Whiskey with headlines such as, “Class in A Glass”, aren’t going to secure any invitations to interview for any creative professional role within our constellation of star powered creative technologists, designers and witty wordsmith scribes at large, OK! “

Radio Host Solomon says, “I feel your pain, Robert. When was the last time you pulverized a vagina of any kind?”

“I’m living in my grandma’s old apartment, which reeks of middle-aged mildew malaise. Plus, I’m so broke I can’t afford my past cell phone due bill past tomorrow. So, swiping over some random cum dumpster chick I met on Slut in A Straight Jacke .com isn’t happening anytime soon either. I can’t afford my oil pill or my electric bill, so I don’t even have the option of electrocuting myself to death in my tub with a working toaster from GE for that matter. Even if I could convince an ex-booty call to drop by, she’d get cold feet upon entry because I haven’t been able to afford the heating bill in months either. You know the price of gas is high when 10 bucks at the tank burns faster than a 2-hit pinner”, Robert Gauler from Stamford, CT says.

Solomon Kornbluth laughs and says, “You’re a funny guy Robert. Laughter is the best cure all, used to lighten the stressed-out load of fixed ineffectual, stuck in a ditch depression, that’s squeezing the life out of your loving heart, making it borderline impossible to take semi-easy deep breaths for more than 2 seconds a time, I totally get it. My advice moving forward, is to attend, an open mike, which doesn’t charge the one drink minimum, prepare some jokes about your non-existent love life on stage or just rant and rave about how much your life love life sucks compared to Martha Dump Truck in Heathers and you’ll feel less alone in your rapidly building misery. Chances are, if you’re emotionally honest about why you hate your past friends and former loves who left you for dead and kicked dirt on your premature grave, regardless of it being deserved or not, it will become impossible for the crowd to not empathize with what a decrepit, sad sack, shit sandwich, you’re forced to eat every day without sporting’s it’s an all good, all love, big pimping Puff Dadd vibe along the way. It feels liberating and empowering to get out of your head, especially on stage in front of strangers, because any form of comedy allows you to rewrite the narrative to your own liking while giving the golden opportunity to get in last word or final laugh along the way. Who knows, you might even get luck out tonight with a Lesbian poet whose heart isn’t into munching on far from scrumptious stank fumed vagina anymore.”

“Ok, I’ll take one more caller before we start our fan favorite segment, “Dumping Tips Tuesdays.” Next up is a call from Lindsey Lam from Louisville, Kentucky. My mom grew up down south in Kentucky, although my ex-wife insists Kentucky is more Midwest south. Regardless, finger food down there is considered anything that tastes your cousin’s panties, hey now. Lindsay Lam you’re on the air with Rough Talk Rules. How can I lighten your heavy heart today?”

Lindsay Lam says, “Today, I showed my daughter this pathway in the woods where I used to sneak though during lunch in the 10 grade to grab some Burger King for lunch. After pointing out to my daughter, how I used to go there alone for lunch, she made feel a level of defensive embarrassment, which I never experienced until now when she said, “Mommy, that’s a really sad story. But I don’t recall being completely miserable housing a double whopper with a cheese and a chicken sandwich all by myself in the process. Daughter says, “Didn’t you have anyone to share all that food with?” And I said, “Can you stop rubbing in me being an owner of a tubby heavy heart already?”

Solomon Kornbluth says “Look Linsday, I spent plenty of time eating lunch alone growing up. At the time, I never felt that so and so’s presence would’ve made me more at peace with world or provide any greater amount of endorphin releases than what the Double Whopper with Cheese was giving me already, I waited at least 2 minutes for the cheese to melt on it just right. God forbid. You shouldn’t allow your daughter to make your feel shame 20 years after the fact, I’m assuming, for being a friendless loner teenager at the time like Lisa Simpson with a piss poor GPA. Roger Daltry from the Who called high school a Teenage Wasteland for a reason. Maybe, reframe your solo lunches in the 10th grade with me myself and I to your daughter as self-care dates, solo shrink time, or in the spirit of the late great Warren Zevon, “Splendid Isolation,”. Warren didn’t need no one, Challah, thank you very much.”

“But now it’s time for Dumping Tips Tuesdays.  If you give a friend a thoughtful gift like a John Candy biography with an inscription you wrote inside it without receiving a thank you note or word of acknowledgement in return, it just proves you weren’t as close as you imagined. But don’t dwell on infusing more specialness into your so-called friendship. Instead, slap yourself on the shoulder for possessing a more active imagination than he ever did. But so-called friendship works both ways. So, let’s a say you claim to be friends with someone from high school 25 years after the fact but have zero desire in seeing their newborn kid, with zero plans to remember the kid’s name, then it’s safe to say, you’re a shit friend who should’ve been dumped before the relationship went to shit in the first place. So always remember, don’t act like your shit doesn’t stink when it does or else you come across as an insanely judgy, bigger headed prick than the rest. So be less shitty to yourself today and do what you want to do like eating alone for lunch without shitting on yourself for not having any deadweight conversationalist friends to invite for the privilege of being in your splendid company after all.”

Michael Kornbluth

Dragon Lungs Fires Back

At 10 my daughter has breast buds. Wife says, “She’s the last person in class to get them.” I say, “Then, why haven’t yours sprouted yet?”

Insult for my daughter to use on a mean girl bully in her class who calls herself Charlie Bear. Shut your bear trap Charlie, you commie bastard. Take the 1st shot, my friends and I will get the last lick in, and we will all go down together. Billy Joel lives, when the Lionshare of his greatest hits were considered lullaby music for eighties Republicans, Challah, thank you very much.

Son says, “Daddy, did you know 2022 is the year of the Tiger? ” I say, “I thought COVID vax patent owners and financiers of the made in Wuhan virus like Dr. Gnocchi and Bill Gates made it the year of the Four Eyed Snakes, my bad.” Challah, thank you very much.

Youngest son makes a dragon out of an egg carton during arts and crafts. I say, “Samuel, you’re too young to ask me why I called myself Dragon Lungs in college. Son says, “Because you were a blast off time moron long time, all the time in college, which is why it took you 5 years to graduate.” Challah, thank you very much.

Rachel Maddow is taking 2 weeks off from her show to block out the trauma of Chris Matthews harassing her yenta breath intern from Syosset, Long Island when he said, “Eating out Maddow, counts as your lunch break, babe.” Now, Rachel Maddow will be able to work on a new film documentary project directed by Ben Stiller called, “Cuomo, No I Don’t Want Jump Off My Own Bridge.” Challah, thank you very much.

Just to fuck with fair weather friends who couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge my text including a Grinding Out Greatness bit about Charlize Theron grinding off Anthony Mason’s dick off in the Woody Allen Movie Celebrity because they think I give a shit about their imposed measured indifference in relation to my surging mojo that keeps on rising, rising, I send a follow text paragraph that reads, “Magic Johnson caught palling around with Gavin Newsom at the Ram’s game isn’t the most flattering look since the governor is forcing vax shots on kids that cause more fertile issues than Magic’s gay son out of the womb. Forget the heart damage caused by these experimental vaccinations on kids who have been forced to become more emotionally jilted than Michael Jackson’s adopted kids on holiday in Bahrain. It’s not that I watch football anymore because I don’t endorse kneeling athletes who think it’s good look to kick Nazi destroyers in the nuts, again and again. But why the fuck would Magic Johnson be happy to pal around for the cameras with Gavin Newsome in the skybox? Metrosexual Getko has single handily turned the sunshine scurrying state into an abandoned tent city, sponsored by REI. Brentwood isn’t even considered safe for hairless Persian men to go cruising for Milo in town at a local Oxygen after Alex Jones has sucked down all the tanks for yelling at Fox News for not even reporting on the Canadian trucker caravan that has Trudeau running to Obama’s man cave in Martha’s Vineyard where he hides his secret stash of Almond Joy’s behind giant boxes of duct tape from Costco. Joan lives, Challah, thank you very much.

Did you know schools banned marking your tests with red marker? And we wonder why China gets away with biological warfare without batting an eye.

Son says, “Daddy, are you hoping the Groundhog shows his shadow, so we get 2 more weeks of winter?” I say, “Bill Murray will remain perpetually smug regardless, despite a puppet government installed with shadowy ties to China through Hunter Biden’s laptop since the day Democracy died. So, what difference does it make? Challah, Hillary Hammer Time Cankles, strikes again. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth