Flipper Bird Baby

HBO taking down Louie CK’s comedy specials was some knee jerk reactionary bullshit. But it’s kosher to keep Woody Allen’s movies up on HBO Max, despite most of those films coming out pre-Soon Yi. Before Woody’s new favorite hobby after stashing baseball cards in shoe boxes became stuffing his top sock drawer with naked Polaroid pics of a 9-year-old naked Soon-Yi to tap for future script generation ideas about an older than dirt creep who bangs a girl with barley forming breast dots called, Crimes Misdemeanors, The Early Years. At the same time, the only pic pissing from Woody’s far from mint, stuck together collection of Polaroid pics of Soon-Yi was the one of her crying naked on the cover of Time Life Magazine.

Has BLM taken the Rocky statue down yet because it promotes White Supremacy?

What is Louie really guilty of besides failure of imagination?

5 women accused Louie of jerking off in their presence after bestowing them green light power like they packed real industry heat as if they became mini-Penny Marshall directors who got final cut on her film Awakenings after a League of Their Own, which had to have been a real heady rush for these wet behind the ears, aspiring comedians to experience at the time.

Louie selling shirts on his website that say “Sorry” on it, is smile inducing 1st idea funny. Other ideas more on brand would’ve been, “Sticky Life”, “Bathhouse Louie”, “Lazy Man Sex”, “Standing Ovations Aren’t Enough”, “Full Of Yucks,” “Get A Grip No-Name Bitch, ” “Got Wipes?” “Whack Attack”, “Dirtier, The Better”, “Visual Aids Lover”, “Hornier Around Hacks”, “Seed Spiller Supreme” or “Coming on a Green Room Near You Indianaoplis.”

Bet it was hard for the college tour guide to keep a straight face when he spotted Louie in the crowd with his daughter after binging on the Soprano’s the previous night with his hockey buds at Boston University whose cousins with Ted Nugent, who grew up idolizing Dennis Leary under a hardcore Republican household in Minnesota.

Holy Shit, it’s Louie CK everybody. Nice shades Louie. The only thing missing from your creep ensemble is a trench coat and Sarah Silverman’s hoodie to wipe up with.

In case you’re wondering, Boston University is contemplating the inclusion of a safe space jerk off wing called, Lonely Heart Louie Lane”, which should take off in Silcon Alley, so you’re not yanked out of the office bathroom stall by office security crooning, “You don’t come around here no more.”

Louie’s here’s with his daughter. Personally, I’d push her to become a Lesbian because you can’t get Aids from munching on middle of the road Sashimi. Louie feels me. The dark prince of humor knows you can’t die from Aids when you’re lesbian because the flip side of being a Lesbian lover licker receiver is you can take a licking and keep on ticking. Don Draper, I fucked him oh. I can’t take no more.

Remember when Louie compared Trump to Hitler after Eminem did. But when Trump bought Mar-a -Lago he lifted the lifetime ban on Jewish membership, Slim on Facts Shady.

My favorite Louie episode was when Louie went on a college tour with his daughter Meadow and choked one out to an episode of the Soprano’s when Janice drills Ralphie in his ass with a vibrator during his reloading down time from whacking strippers to death.

Hey Louie, shouldn’t your daughter pursue a BFA in comedic arts at nearby Emerson university. On Daddy Deplorable Dady you can perform this Shakespeare piece I’ve been developing with my daughter. That’s right Louie doesn’t possess a fucking monopoly on edgy father daughter conversational fueled comedy in relation to gender fluid comedy either. I keep it simple and tell my daughter, transgender is gay in woman’s clothing. Daughter asks, “Does that mean Shakespeare was gay because he dressed like a woman in all his plays.” I said, “That’s just because Shakespeare looked prettier than but-her-face English wenches with ugly moles on their face. But I do know for a fact that Kevin Spacy is gay about lunging at Othello backstage in tights. And I if see Transgender Father’s Day trend on Twitter one more time, I’m going to break my Chic-Filet strike for good. Either you’re an involved father or you’re not Nipple Tits. Plus, feeling shafted shouldn’t be a new shock to your system anymore either. This is Jefferey Tambour blasting his fellow Trans Co-star for pissing on the toilet seat in his trailer bathroom again. Real lady like, now get out of my trailer, you butchy bitch, hey now. Why are trans activists getting their panties in a bunch over the song Dude Looks Like a Lady Again?” In the song Steven Tyler takes more than a glancing stiffening peek, before proclaiming with surging mounting lust, “Oh what a funky lady. And I like it, like it, yeah.” So did Richard Pryor, get it over it already. Richard Pryor said it was the best piece of pussy, Bill Maher never had. Which reminds me, I just bumped into Michelle Obama’s Book Reach Higher at the Target dumper bargain bin and thought, “Reach Higher, Bill Maher, just got a stiffy. I can’t take no more, Dice lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Or did you call Trump the Anti-Christ Louie? Regardless, you’re the lying sack of shit for pretending to feel sorry about jerking off in presence of lesser female comedians after receiving their permission to throw on Sarah Silverman’s crusty old hoodie to get you in the mood for old time’s sake. The only thing you’re sorry about is pretending to care that your vote for Joe Biden mattered because you know that Biden pretending to get more votes than your boy Obama is like pretending DMX gave up weed for Catnip for Lent. Trump Hitler rhetoric got you too pumped-up Louie. Sequels never live up to the original. Maybe, Biden’s the Anti-Christ instead Louie. At the same time Christian right nation, in the Bible part 2 Jesus returns from Heaven to defeat the Anti-Christ. So have some faith in the Jesus comeback story, won’t you people?

Louie doesn’t feel sorry about jerking off in front of no name female comics. I wouldn’t either personally after getting their permission. Just own it and admit to feeling bad about his money shots in the green room costing him so much green.

What was Louie’s opener used to get consent before getting his yank on around these adoring female comics again? I’m too cheap for a massage parlor. Plus, I’m a dad. So, I can only get into the older happy enders, knowing they weren’t yanked off the boat yesterday. Don’t stare at my red pubes too intensely or you’ll get blinded with rage for not taking your father’s advice, when he pushed you to become a dental hygienist instead. I won’t jerk you around. Jerking off in the bathroom cramps my style. If I did my laugh yanker sets sitting on my ass like Paul Mooney I might be acting differently. You think Obama’s drones blasted with such Lasik type precision. To put you more at ease, would it help if I told you that Mr. Wonderful, Obama, ordered me to leak it. They don’t call me Bathhouse Louie for nothing, Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

The Maiden Bartender

You met one Iron Maiden fan, you met them all right? Iron Maiden fans wear out those mummy metal patches on their faded, torn jean jackets, even into their late thirties to inject a dark, mysterious, complex, weighty edge such diehard fanatic fans are incapable of generating on their own.  Granted, Bruce Dickenson the more exalted, replacement lead singer star of Iron Maiden, otherwise known as the human air raid siren, boasts a supernatural voice, which pierces through the clouds of Heavy Metal heaven. Still, it’s impossible to not grow tired of his rapid fire, Spinal Tap conjuring caricature of what an English heavy metal howler should like in Samuel Johnson’s speed metal phonics dictionary under Game Of Thrones horse charging music. At least, that’s’ what the Cruise Comedian, Michael Rocker thought, as he entered a colonial constructed, seaside, shipbuilding town of Mystic, CT, where Julia Roberts shot the movie Mystic Pizza, and entertained the grips on the set by fisting her mouth in between takes to ensure they made it her look the most flattering in the face of such frigid, east coast winter light.  

Now, Michael Rocker, a tall, athletic looking, preppy casual comic orders a drink and says, “Hey, what local IPA’s do you recommend? The bartender, a tall, striking, borderline statuesque dirty blond, sporting an Iron Maiden tattoo on her defined, yet not overtly chiseled deltoid replies, “I don’t know, that all depends, on how much hardcore bitter bite you can take. I mean, are you interested in merely quenching your thirst with a session filler beer? Or would you prefer  to get your hardcore freak on for Karaoke night with something boozier and more funktastic like a Fat Orange Cat’s Trippel IPA, stud.” The Cruise Comic says, “I’ll take the Trippel IPA, hot stuff,” as he tries hard not to lick his lips, wanting to inhale her on the spot.

Sitting next to the Cruise Comic at the bar, is a hunched, tired, lanky, dirty blond, long-haired guy in his late thirties, sporting bad acne spots, from a poor diet full of too much beef Jerky and cheap vodka tonics, reeking of stale, Newport cigarettes, stripping the minty cool flavor of any high schooler hoody appeal after the 1st drag whatsoever.  The Cruise Comic get’s the impression, the Newport cigarette guy who’s sporting a black Iron Maiden shirt under his faded, torn jean jacket, is here solo as usual, so he decides to sample some new jokes on him in preparation for his upcoming cruise tour heading to Jamaica for spring break the following morning. Cruise Comic makes eye contact with the Iron Maiden fan and says, “Nice Maiden shirt. You must know the wrestler and Fozzy front man Chris Jericho then? Maiden dude replies, “Duh, who doesn’t? Immediately, the Cruise Comic becomes engulfed with extreme annoyance, regretting his attempt to bond with this local in his attempt to play it cool with the hot bad ass bartender and snaps back with, “Be honest, don’t you think Iron Maiden is a poor man’s Judas Priest, with far less sing along, radio friendly hits, being forced to rely on catchy, merchandising gimmickry to radiate a cooler, far less Dungeons and Dragons nerdy veneer instead? And who is the Eddie mascot on Iron Maiden shirts supposed to be anyway? He looks like a cyborg mummy and a virile Crypt Keeper in his prime had a baby?  Run For The Hills is a good running song, for Daniel Day Lewis to crank up when he trained for his role in the Last of the Mohicans.”

The bartender can’t help but chuckle, doing her best to not let Cruise Comedian know it. Still, she decides to interject, knowing fighting words were just thrown down in this normally peaceful waterfront town and says, “Hey, Eddie, don’t listen to him. He’s not sophisticated enough to understand the intricacies and sweeping historical, majestic sweep that went to Power Slave and the other 40 records of English speed metal mastery at it’s finest. Next vodka and tonic is on me babe, don’t sweat it.” Cruise Comedian is turned on by the bartender’s friendly infused fiery cheer, especially knowing this was her way of pleasing a local and flirting with him big time and says, “She’s right Eddie, that’s your name Eddie just like the Iron Maiden mascot, wow. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m just putting Iron Maiden down to feel better about myself. That’s what hack cruise comics do.  I think Poison, Motely Crew and Cinderella rock out just as hard and boast infinitely catchier, kick as metal pop anthems, which ooze forceful, heartfelt personality versus sounding like systematic howling knights on horseback but what do I know Eddie. Didn’t mean to offend your hardcore fanatical Maiden sensibilities bud.”  Eddy’s face become ensnarled in acne scar shades of red as he clenches his callous hardened, burn laden hands and says, “Dude, I’m a dishwasher on a cruise ship, I don’t need to take this shit.” The Cruise Comedian says, “I’m a lowly Cruise Comedian hack comedian, so it’s a wash mate. Looking forward to docking in Jamaica though. This is my impression of Ziggy Marley being interviewed by High Times Magazine for their annual 4/20 issue.  “Ziggy, your dad had 11 kids, but I thought ganja drained your life blaster dry. Ziggy replies, “Fake news man.” Cruise comic finally scores a tension diffusing laugh. Eddie says, “That was a good one. Perhaps, I take my obsession with Iron Maiden a tad too seriously at times. Thing is, you get pretty cagy as a cruise ship dishwasher, all alone with Iron Maiden tunes of wanton destruction stuck in your head.” Cruise Comic says, “No problem dude, I was being a big dick prior, sometimes my riffing veers into full fledged asshole land faster than I’d prefer to. Do you smoke your mind with the crystal specked bud? Eddie the dishwasher says, “Yeah, I mean, what loner burnout Maiden head in high school didn’t. You never outgrow the soothing lift the green gives a loner burnout at heart.  Cruise comic says, “Did you know 4/20 was Hitler’s birthday? I haven’t felt this betrayed since Sly Stallone snuck Mel Gibson into Expendables 3.” Eddie the Dishwasher says, “Oh, so you’re Jewish. That’s why you’re so annoying and pushy with your material. Well, nobody’s perfect except Beth the bartender.”

Beth the bartender commands the stage and clenches the mike to belt out Run for the Hills on the Karaoke stage with incredible, hardcore edge feeling to make a jaded, English metal resisting, cruise comic willing to give British speed metal another shot. All that was missing was a hardcore female touch and some added funktastic feeling with some sexy metal sass to match.

The End

Michael Kornbluth

Pro-Creation Solution

New Yorkers are no longer procreating fast enough to replace their dying population. Over the hill hipsters, can’t get it up to pork their girlfriends, because they’re already glued to the couch from another pork induced coma.  Lena Dunham clones want to have sex but they’re not hot enough to impregnate by mistake either. Lena’s Dunham’s encouraged flappy look on Instagram isn’t helping.  Over the hill hipsters hobbits aren’t getting their girlfriends into the mood for sweet, sticky love either, when their ideal workout is picking up a phone to order more Pork Buns instead.  So, ladies, if you want your sweaty sex period with your boyfriend to last more than 2 seconds, than stop mimicking Lena Dunham’s encouraged frumpiness on Instagram. No man, bi, straight or gay, is sweating the prospect of missing out on the opportunity to mount the hunchback of Bushwick, who looks like she just swallowed Hipsterville USA during restaurant week, trust me.

Michael Kornbluth

Pro-Creation Solution

New Yorkers are no longer procreating fast enough to replace their dying population. Over the hill hipsters, can’t get it up to pork their girlfriends, because they’re already glued to the couch from another pork induced coma.  Lena Dunham clones want to have sex but they’re not hot enough to impregnate by mistake either. Lena’s Dunham’s encouraged flappy look on Instagram isn’t helping.  Over the hill hipsters hobbits aren’t getting their girlfriends into the mood for sweet, sticky love either, when their ideal workout is picking up a phone to order more Pork Buns instead.  So, ladies, if you want your sweaty sex period with your boyfriend to last more than 2 seconds, than stop mimicking Lena Dunham’s encouraged frumpiness on Instagram. No man, bi, straight or gay, is sweating the prospect of missing out on the opportunity to mount the hunchback of Bushwick, who looks like she just swallowed Hipsterville USA during restaurant week, trust me.

Michael Kornbluth

Pro-Creation Solution

New Yorkers are no longer procreating fast enough to replace their dying population. Over the hill hipsters, can’t get it up to pork their girlfriends, because they’re already glued to the couch from another pork induced coma.  Lena Dunham clones want to have sex but they’re not hot enough to impregnate by mistake either. Lena’s Dunham’s encouraged flappy look on Instagram isn’t helping.  Over the hill hipsters hobbits aren’t getting their girlfriends into the mood for sweet, sticky love either, when their ideal workout is picking up a phone to order more Pork Buns instead.  So, ladies, if you want your sweaty sex period with your boyfriend to last more than 2 seconds, than stop mimicking Lena Dunham’s encouraged frumpiness on Instagram. No man, bi, straight or gay, is sweating the prospect of missing out on the opportunity to mount the hunchback of Bushwick, who looks like she just swallowed Hipsterville USA during restaurant week, trust me.

Michael Kornbluth

 

Deconstructing Dude Looks Like A Lady

Why is the song Dude Looks Like Lady so offensive to the Trans Community? In the song, Steven Tyler takes more than a peek, proclaiming with surging, mounting lust, “Oh, what a funky lady. And “I like it, like it, like it yeah.”  

Michael Kornbluth

The Unholy Father

Planned Parenthood has a sex ed book out, In Case You’re Curious. One of the earlier chapters is, Can You Die From Masturbating Too Much? My advice to my 2 boys is, “It doesn’t hurt trying, after you outgrow your sweaty sex period with your girlfriend, which only lasts 3 months max anyway. Plus, in the age of me to, masturbation is our only safety rail left yet kids. Call me an unholy father, but pointing out the benefits of my daughter being a Lesbian, when every other guy has HPV today, which causes cervical cancer if left undetected, isn’t the worst prevent defense strategy in the world, because you can take a licking and keep on ticking. Or I can just give my daughter an HPV vaccine shot at 10, pray for the best and call it a day.

Michael Kornbluth

Rock and Roll Ain’t Shit Without AC/DC

Rock and Roll ain’t shit without AC/DC and unlike Chuck Berry, legendary howling front man legends Bon Scott and the best picker upper follower up all time and it’s not even close, Brian Johnson, no offense Sammy Hagar, never put a camera in the girl’s room, to spy on new pubescent trim to break in at their restaurant to get a big Kansas City T Bone Special of her own. AC/DC is also Rick Rubin’s favorite band, and he’s the less cagier, earthier, hip hop hipper machine pop culture tectonic shifter shaper equivalent of Phil Spector minus the amazing made for HBO movie about the Ronettes loving, teenager in love soundtrack penning producer legend, gold record shitting Phil Spector, who for some reason decided to chuck it all for a C- bit never was actress, whose big break screen credit was playing the Amazon on The Moon extra 5000. I digress, but Brian Johnson the rip roaring shredding leader singer of AC/DC on Back In Black can no longer perform live because all of his pitch perfect, cannon ball powered shriek blasting for God knows how long has made him borderline deaf. Now all he hears God willing, is Hells Bells.

Michael Kornbluth