New School Speed

Dad says, “I don’t eat steaks anymore.” I reply, “I’ve been burnt out on your burnt steaks before I bloomed under my Fruit of the Looms Dad. And I’m the one who was diagnosed as a learning-disabled learner in High School. Granted, by the time I completed my un-timed SAT, my friends had already declared their majors at Washington University. At the same time, you did nothing to speed the development of my non-existent self-esteem as my basketball coach Dad like LaVar Ball could. He’d throw me house parties at our crib in the 9th grade to help ensure I got to 1st base before my younger brother did. My star substitute coach dad would only invite Stuck Up Jenny from The Block. Two seconds into the party, super sub coach dad barks into her hoop heavy, dangling ear, “The Grape Crush soda bottle, doesn’t spin itself bitch.”

But we can’t be defined by our self-esteem strangled, fight adverse past selves forever. Which is why none of those pinko buds of yesteryear who attended Washington University 23 years ago, will ever come close to producing 111 comedy records in 11 months flat like a Speed Angel out of hell. John Lennon wished he was this productive during his Stay-At-Home Dad Years. And Quicker Dick Wins, comedy record 113, is coming up right up your juice box hole, Challah. Quicker dick wins, Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Speed Angel

Dad says, “I don’t eat steaks anymore.” I reply, “I’ve been burnt out on your burnt steaks before I bloomed under my Fruit of the Looms Dad. And I’m the one who was diagnosed as a learning-disabled learner in High School. Granted, by the time I completed my un-timed SAT, my friends had already declared their majors at Washington University. At the same time, you did nothing to speed the development of my non-existent self-esteem as my basketball coach Dad like LaVar Ball could. He’d throw me house parties at our crib in the 9th grade to help ensure I got to 1st base before my younger brother did. My star substitute coach dad would only invite Stuck Up Jenny from The Block. Two seconds into the party, super sub coach dad barks into her hoop heavy, dangling ear, “The Grape Crush soda bottle, doesn’t spin itself bitch.”

But we can’t be defined by our self-esteem strangled, fight adverse past selves forever. Which is why none of those pinko buds of yesteryear who attended Washington University 23 years ago, will ever come close to producing 111 comedy records in 11 months flat like a Speed Angel out of hell. John Lennon wished he was this productive during his Stay-At-Home Dad Years. And Quicker Dick Wins, comedy record 113, is coming up right up your juice box hole, Challah. Quicker dick wins, Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Campy Camper

Mom calls. Can I speak with the kids about any camp updates?

I say, “You shipped me off to Sleepaway Camp for 8 years in a row for what felt like 3 years at the time, that went on longer than Paul Resier as the MC during the 92nd Street Y series on why Baby Boomer arrogance never dies. As I counted the days till Color War was over, which always made me feel whiter than White man’s Disease, at a Jew boy sleepaway camp in Kent, CT no less, especially knowing how I was the second worst athlete after the Shiek’s son from Great Neck. Yet I don’t recall you ever asking whether I was gay about going back to camp again mom or ever bothering to ask me how I liked being called Homo Head or Sphincter Clit, after you packed me jars of Vaseline like I was about to be shipped off to gay conversion camp despite that jar of Vaseline getting less touches than a Bible in a Bathhouse colony in Pronvincetown. Where Bathhouse Barry was broken in by Michelle Obama, What’s Talent Got To Do With It Turner, during their honeymoon phase. But at the time, I still had no understanding of how Vaseline was the AJAX’s man’s grown-up version of Slip and Slide with the Village People. Before Harry Styles came out as a Cherry Blossom Popping lube enthusiast under his new line of lifestyle lubes, Pan Sexual Brits Are Us. Because my sex education back then mom, was only limited to Taste Of Amber, Topless Tudors and Mountain Of Muff, on the VHS Tape mix tape that my Japanese American friend Kohji Toung made for me, that was a true labor of love on par with the chiseled lats on David that pointed you straight toward his gluteus maximus, which in Latin means, “Sphincter on Fire.”

Although I was super gay about the time when I jerked off in the bunk bathroom once and had to wipe up with the cardboard roller and decided to put it back inside the holder. Only to laugh the hardest I’ve ever laughed after this fat troll from Dalton prep yells, “Gross”, before realizing that his hand was covered in cum while trying to wipe his own ass. I literally turned the toilet paper dispenser into my own glory role repository. And I’ve never laughed harder, having to the bite down on my crusty blanket to prevent myself from being busted as the sole source behind such perverse howls of merriment masked delight. So, blowing 4 grand on camp that summer was totally worth it ma, Vaseline coupons included.”

I was written off as a nutty fruitcake by my mother and was written out of the will in real time in case you’re wondering despite my happy ending to that call. Can I get a Challah, for Love Limit Limitations? Last time I checked, Gropin Biden’s expired.

Fake news friend from college who pretends The Icky Shuffle actually beat Trumpy Poo says, “What do you think about Roe vs. Wade? ” I say, “I never get personal. But atheist cunts always act like they’re on the rag regardless.”

He didn’t laugh.

I text back, “Did you grow a vagina overnight? If so, I’d stay away from Biden in Delaware during local stump speeches on Making Skinny Dipping great again in front of his secret service agents stationed at his Greenville estate home, while murmuring to those female agents stuck on Presidential security detail, “I told you I was bigger than Boogie Boarder. Icky Shuffle showers with his daughter according to his daughter’s diaries. So, unlike Trumpy Poo, the Icky Shuffle is less likely to discriminate against who rubs against his dirty grandpa goo.”

Love limit limitations live, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Avenging Ghosters

I’m loving my monogamous relationship with sobriety. Straying from sobriety will only make me feel like a dirtier Jew than usual like going to the massage parlor on occasion, regardless of my conscious feeling squeaky clean soon afterwards, knowing how my grizzled Reflexology Therapist wasn’t yanked off the boat yesterday.

If I go to an AA meeting in the future, I’m going to introduce myself as a Scumbag Strayer Slayer, which sounds less defeatist depressing than, “Hi, my name is Michael Kornbluth and I’m a degenerate Jew alcoholic who has to use his fingers to figure out simple arithmetic. Daughter says, “Daddy, how many zeros are in a billion? Daddy, did you really have to ask Alexa for that? Doesn’t this disqualify me from getting Bat Mitzvahed? Are you financially illiterate daddy? I’m wondering if your Hebrew name, Money Bags Mordecai is under Judicial Review.”

Scumbag Strayer Slayer slays on, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Nibble Be Good

I feel like an asshole for using a borderline disappointed tone with my daughter whenever she resorts to nibbling my mouth drooling meal creations again. Fine, every dish I make isn’t worthy of lock jaw love. But this morning I made a creamy, American Cheese Omelet cut up in decent size bites, which her younger brothers inhaled whole fuss free no problem. So, what’s my daughter’s problem exactly? Eggs aren’t murder. It’s a familiar filling in her mouth. She doesn’t have to scramble her brain to discern whether it’s runny goo or mama’s lentil salad, that’s easy to poo, poo. No, my daughter is nothing more than a good nibbler, who freezes at the sight of swallowing anything bigger than a salmon roe egg. Losing all patience for her nibble be good excuses this morning, I cut off a big chunk of cheesy Omelet for her to bite into before camp and she says, “How do you expect me to fit such a big bite into my mouth?” I say, “How do you think Titiana Tightchoochie wins a Lifetime AVN Award for best Online Oral Presentations? Practice darling, practice.” Daughter says, “What are the AVN awards?” I say, “Charlie Sheen’s ace in the hole, if he needed a date for the BAFTA awards after making a remake of The English Patient starring Rubert Everett as full-blown Aids. Nibble Be Good, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Heavenly Toppers

If you don’t want to make out with your daughter. It’s because she’s wearing mama’s cloths again. That’s when the glitter fades. At least now my daughter won’t bang the stripper pole for a living as Destiny Epiphany anytime soon either, doing her best J Lo act at the Super Bowl, hoping Ben Affleck drunk dials her again. Mission accomplished. Unholy father makes show me your cock and balls Sandler blush. Heavenly toppers towering on, all up your gaping anus hole. Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Sky High Again

Son climbs a tree 40 stories high. Random mom after camp says, “I’ve never seen anybody that high.” I say, “That’s what Hunter Biden’s dealer said. They don’t call him Sir Snort A Lot for nothing. On Hunter’s birthday when Jill said, “Blow”, he snorted the cake. Before he gave up blow for blow painting, no longer hearing last call from the bathroom stall. While his former biker buds from the Sons Of Anarchy yell, “Where’s Hunter? Who else is going to pay for this shit?”

Can I get a holla, for repurposing older than yiddish cocaine jokes about my brother in Hunter’s honor? Challah, sky high again. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth