Do It All Dad unmasks the birth of a Hair Metal Comedian.
Buying a beer at the local Italian supermarket and the song Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac is playing on the surround sound store speakers. As my beer is scanned. I say to the supermarket clerk, “Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies”, is what Stevie Nicks sang to Hillary backstage at MSG.” Multiple twenty something supermarket girl clerks laugh through their masks loud, long time. I add, “That’s an a plus joke addition to my book Do It All Dad Does Jokes. You’re welcome. If I said that joke to my father he’d say, “Not funny, not appropriate.” Resist this, Pops.” Laughs persist long time. Thank you very much.
My A plus compliment for my wife this morning. I say, “Babe, I watched a video on Adam Sandler’s wife last night. And you’re much better looking than her without the aid of movie makeup. And it shows in her kids to.” Wife laughs long time. Thank you very much.
This midafternoon compliment was good but came off as more unintended dickish after my wife got dressed for Home Depot after a 45-minute ride on the Pelton. I say, “That dress fits your body well babe and no longer looks so tentish.”
I can’t believe my 10-year-old daughter just got her 1st breast bud. My wife says, “Matilda and Shannon are the last girls in her class to get them.” I say, “Then why haven’t yours sprouted yet?
Wife asks, “Would you like to take a trip to Home Depot? I say, “No.” She says, “Then, who’s going to help me lift the bag of mulch into the car? I say, “A dreamer who aspires to become Store Manager one day.”
I think the LBGT community should rebrand Olympic Iron Woman competitors as She Male Tom Boys. Who identify with Alpha Dogs minus the insufferable arrogance on par with MJ, especially after he called Scottie Pippen “selfish” for stalling knee surgery to use as leverage when renegotiating his contract knowing the best number 2 ever was getting paid less than BJ Armstrong’s Nanny.
Last night for dinner my daughter says, “Daddy, your red lips are looking blander than usual. Do you want me to put lipstick on for you after dinner? I say, “I can’t look through mom’s purse for hidden Adderall pills without feeling like a speed freak horror. So, I’ll pass, thanks.”
Jon Snow from Game of Thrones going to rehab in CT for 75 grand a week, ruins everything. He was supposed to be the new Alpha Dog version of Orlando Bloom yet now you get the distinct impression he’d shake in his boots from a cutting stare by Gordan Ramsey on Master Chef Celebrity Editon. Gordan Ramsey spits out a bite of his Dothraki Lamb burger and says, “This tastes like burnt villagers Jon Snow.”
Liz Cheney before going down on Meghan Rapinoe. Unlike my father Dick, I aim to please.
Shocked to hear my mother disapproves of her younger sister watching the View. The only difference between the View and the Rachel Maddow Show is no straight guys watch either. East coast elitist cucks don’t count because they’d never laugh at this impersonation of Chris Matthews sexually harassing a new yenta breath intern from Long Island whose more overtly Jewy peppy, screechy annoying than Joy Behar if you can believe it, “Eating out Maddow. Counts as your lunch break babe.” Thank you very much.
Vermont should change it’s state motto to CBD Oil only. Bernie Sanders couldn’t even make Vermont great for pot heads on vacation.
My 4 year old son says to his older brother, “Arthur sit on my penis.” I say, “Not Kosher baby. But sit on my penis is a rock solid, bare bones line to use in a Russ Meyer’s film, Topless Tudors. After little Johnny scores an A+ in his pop quiz on geometry on top of a pentagram shaped bed the director bedded Jayne Mansfield in prior for Devilish Dicks.
All my kids talked about all weekend was a scene from Peter Rabbit 2, where a carrot get’s jammed up some bloke’s butt. Turns out I need to get out of the house more often, because when I saw the scene I yell out with dejected disgust, “Where’s the penetration? Is this film G rated or what? Then again, penetration is overrated. That’s what Meghan Rapinoe said to her date at The Enchantment Under The Sea Dance. Now, soccer star Meghan Rapinoe is a new fashion model for Victoria Secret. I can’t wait to blow 80 bucks on edible shin guards that taste like hairy fish sticks. Meghan might run for President one day. What’s going to be her campaign slogan besides, “Penetration is overrated? Bring back the L Word to Netflix Obama. You’re are only hope?”
Learning that my younger brother went weed shopping with my dad at a dispensary in Arizona that I texted my dad the address for after going there myself prior solo was weird. I don’t understand why you’d include dad for this 1st time experience since weed became legal there. We didn’t get high with our dad growing up. Still don’t. Our Dad has only puffed twice in the past 50 years. Still, the moment weed becomes legal in Arizona, it’s very fitting for my dad’s favorite son to have that communal shopping experience together, while Dad utters, “Don’t tell your brother, but this means I love your druggy degenerate side more. At least you still watch ESPN and don’t do a podcast defending Trump for free.”
All British standup comedians sound and look like nerdy, neurotic Jews minus the hardcore hilarious Jew bone. At the same time, all English actresses even the so, so pretty ones look dowdy dumpy with that makeup frosting caked on their faces to, Elizabeth Hurley excluded. Still, every time Elizabeth Hurley opens her mouth in Austin Powers, her measured annunciation rockets her sexiness factor into China where all the buried boners from the Ming Dynasty reside, next to all the cracking Geisha bones their master overlords are forced to hear in Commie Hell whenever they’re forced to take another bite out of their Scorpion lollipop for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Stephen A Smith has a blunt message for the US Olympic basketball team. Vince Carter should tea bag your whole squad, poker face Pop included, like when he dunked over the French center in the 2000 Olympics for losing your 1st Olympic game to those Froggers from France. Granted, America doesn’t exist without Ben Franklin convincing the French to give us their money, ships and troops to defeat those mole tainted British bastards. Still, I don’t care how much Damian Lillard downplays the loss to France, especially when he excuses us losing to France without Tony Parker as a “national pride” issue. Dude, you’re an uppity, glamorized, miniscule jump shooter, who instills less fear in NBA opposing players than maternity suits. Who still get’s to dictate more favorable trade destinations and get PAID permanent f you Corporate America money for life, regardless if you become a go to choke artist number 3 option on the Los Angles Lakers or not. So how is Damian Lillard struggling to drum up some more passionate national pride again, knowing Willis Reed in the seventies had to sell homeowners insurance for All State in the off season before Trump 2020 Banners sent ANTIFA attack home premiums through the roof?
How much do you hate the NBA players representing our US Basketball team today? They lose to France and try to philosophize why they lose with ironic detachment like Jean-Paul Sartre being interviewed by the Paris Review. “France is a very prideful country. Jim Morrison is buried there man. Dice hijacked his entire Buddy Love persona from Jerry Lewis’s Buddy Love character in the original Nutty Professor actually. Tenor saxophonist Chet Baker scored a new lease on life in Paris during his resurgent smack attack years, did you know that? Russ Meyer, famed writer director of B busty flicks such as Faster Pussy Cat, Kill lost his virginity to a French prostitute on the house as a gift from Ernest Hemingway after working as combat photographer documenting the US defeating those Nazi scum tweaked on Crystal Meth till the end, music is your only friend till the end. Jim Morrison lives, holla, thank you very much. Reporter for ESPN.com says, “Damian, you just mentioned all wildly successful Americans in the arts in relation to their embrace in France. Why not mention Miles Davis? Miles was actually all smiles in Paris for a change. He even faced the audience once when Bridget Bardot insisted he’d spew his beautiful black pride over her busty brassiere that went on longer than John Coltrane jerky solos at Birdland, going cuckoo for more sheets of puffed up sound in his honor.” A reporter from Brietbart interjects, “But Damian, your boy Obama Be Good got his presidential puppet in place, Dominion lawsuits and promises of more mask muzzle mandates working in his favor to overshadow the election stolen from Trump in the media and government. Your side got what it wanted, law and order is deader than Portlandia’s campy appeal of yesteryear on IFC reruns since your precious Democratic party let ANTIFA burn your jewel of a city into the ground. So shouldn’t you at least pretend to be more prideful than the French because at least we don’t have old ladies in the street slapping our fake news leader in the White House in the face just yet. Come to think of it, only an eight year old red head with pig tails would get that close for a clean shot, isn’t that right slick?
Did you know the Olympic athletes who win a gold today have to put the gold medal on themselves? If I’m an African American who killed myself for 8 years to finally win the gold, only to have myself put the Gold Medal around my own neck, I’d rather hang myself with it instead. Before hanging myself in my hotel room later with my Gold Medal, I’d yell up on the podium, “Couldn’t some disk thrower from Japan throw the Medal around my neck? Fuck CDC social distancing guidelines. I’m the new and improved Iron Mike, you fear mongering masked motherfuckers. The elusive image of my black glorious neck being draped in Olympic gold by some lowly white European beneath me who vacations 5 weeks a year sunbathing in Capri, kept me going through running up sand dunes in the dead of winter like Marvelous Marvin Haggler did. My driving vision to plow past all the pain, incessant loneliness and faded memories of grandma’s chicken fried steak was that Gold Medal draped around my neck like George Forman and Sugar Ray Leonard before me. It’s time to cash in on my well earned gold medalist privilege already, you COVID crazed crackers. I fought myself out of South Central, a single parent home and rampant violence every step I took from sunrise to sunset. I’m not sweating an itchy esophagus at this round in the game. Vape Pens killed more of my people in South Central in their teens than the made in Wuhan virus did. That’s right, I said it, made in Wuhan. Biden can’t censor me up here on the podium. Pelosi can’t suck my blood like a bat out of hell from my spot at the top. Social distance yourself from these nuts, you raggedy old bitch. I voted for Trump motherfucker. My pops saw Tyson knock out Michael Spinks at the Atlantic City Convention Center before Tony Soprano made a large scale seed investment into the Bada Bing. Dice lives, oh, I can’t take no more, thank you very much.
I’m so sick of hearing get the vaccine shot for the kids pitch, especially from my father because his alleged concern over my own increased fatality rate without the stab is glaringly secondary. My dad’s interior monologue reads like: Stay At Home Dads have no freedoms to begin with. So what special life does my 1st son care about preserving exactly? The kid has been on shit removal detail for the past decade and counting. So how much shittier can his life get exactly? Although for some warped reason, my son gives his mother grief for encouraging him to become a garbage man for a living. “Shoot for shit”, my son says, is his mom’s motto for her least favored son. Like taking out other people’s trash is any different than on being nappy disposal detail for the past 10 years already and counting. At least in the Sanitation department, my 1st born, still don’t know how were related, will get paid to throw shit for for a living and can actually cite on the job experience to boast about for an attainable six figure job with benefits for a change.”
My wife isn’t any better with the get the vaccine pitch because if I give COVID to our kids, I’ll be out in the street with other mass murders who got early release from Riker’s Island because Thugs Lives Matter Most, even among those accused of double homicide with the intent to kill, again and again.
Get the vaccine shot for the kids. Marvin Haggler, an epitome of peak physical prowess died of a heart attack after getting his 2nd stab and went down harder than any flurry of one 2 punches Tommy The Hit Man Hearn’s ever unloaded on his face. I’ll take my chances. Stop acting like unvaccinated people are putting you at risk in your swingers club as if they just came back from a barebacking tour of She Males with Bill Maher in Marti Gas for the last mile of the three legged tour of Mount Roraima.
This morning I negotiated a temporary cease fire agreement with my wife, before we take our kids for a little trip to Vermont later this summer, when we visit the Ben and Jerry’s factory tour. I tell my wife, “I’ll stock pile barbed one liners to unload after the tour is over. Then the gloves come off babe. Don’t Ben and Jerry know that a 2 state solution is impossible, if Hamas keeps fucking? The only thing occupying Palestinian territory is AP news for them do another hit piece on Israel refusing to be pushover putzy next time Hamas launches 5000 rockets in their backyard again, expecting nothing more in return than an edible arrangements gift basket in return with a thank you note written in Farsi. Personally, I can’t wait for the Graveyard factory Tour of Ben and Jerry ice cream flavors no longer in production like the Tonight Show one. Wait a minute, they still make the Tonight Show one, despite the stone cold truth about how Jimmy Fallon’s writers hate, since he humanized Trump on TV by tussling his hair on TV, knowing a real life skinhead never emerged. I wonder if Ben and Jerry discontinued the Aloha Macadamia line because Michelle Obama demanded they’d replace Obama’s favorite Samoan nuts with Almonds that grew on George Clooney’s Lake Cuomo estate instead. Where the ex President is forcing to feel like second banana regardless. Because at least Clooney’s Oscar win didn’t feel like a participation trophy the way it did when Obama Be Meh won the Nobel Peace Prize for rebranding ISIS, ISIL. So they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times already. And why did Ben and Jerry kill of Purple Passion Fruit? Did Prince threaten to sue them for copyright infringement while getting his ruffled tux bent all out of shape? Who ordered the hit on Holy Cannoli? Did Phil Rizzuto demand they change the name to Holy Cow, I think Meat Loaf is going to make it? Doesn’t Ben and Jerry realize Trump passed prison reform by the time Jared Kushner creams into Ivanka whenever she talks dirty to him in Mandarin on his birthday again? And if Ben and Jerry were so concerned with investing in communities of color, why would they keep their corporate headquarters in Vermont? Vermont is whiter than Larry Bird’s fake news basketball camp for higher hopping authority in French Lick Indiana. On their website it says, Ben and Jerry’s supports voting rights, assuming you think Dominion machines questionable accounting procedures are on the right side of history the day before Democracy died or not. Voter ID is racist. Does Julio from the Barrio have to pass a sudden height requirement in Georgia, that I don’t know about yet, Jerry? Now, that’s gold Jerry, holla. Seinfeld lives. Thank you very much. How do you Ben and Jerry define racial justice exactly? The USA basketball team lost to France because the NBA is down with supporting thug lives matter no matter what? I’m all for LBGT rights like Ben and Jerry yet do you think they’d agree that Drag Queen Reading Hour can be a tad freaky for our kids knowing how hard it is to look flattering fresh under fluorescent library lights? What’s climate justice according to Ben and Jerry? Greta Thunberg causing more eco anxiety to go viral again, because a doorman can’t keep a typhoon from taking out a Private Equity Director’s penthouse overlooking Central Park East. Twin daughter’s are popping Melatonin gummies up late on a school night again because they’re consumed with eco-anxiety. Dad comes home at 10 after a pricy client dinner at Eleven Madison Park and yells at his nanny, “Why are the kids still up? Let me guess Greta Thunberg again, that sweaty browed bitch. Sorry I didn’t take a Citi Bike to my 5 star client meal at the Eleven Madison Park. So I could avoid smelling like shitty commercial weed from head to toe. Does Greta know Leo still uses plastic straws for blow at the Viper Room, only to hear last call from the bathroom stall? While yelling, where’s Hunter?” Plus, I hate those fucking straws made out of bamboo, avocado pits and pea protein enzymes used for Bill Gates Golden Retrievers as Four Eyes hogs up all the pricier, Tomahawk Ribeye cuts for himself. I don’t care how many sea turtles die because I don’t want to chip a tooth while sucking down an Arnold Palmer during Lent again, OK!” Dennis Leary lives. Holla, thank you very much.
What do refugee rights mean to Ben and Jerry? Squatting rights outside of Ben and Jerry’s corporate office for a staged photo op whenever the UN is scheduled for a VIP only tour? What sort of care package do Ben and Jerry offer refugees who flee to their stores for a taste of bloated smug served heaven? A Ben and Jerry coffee mug with no pristine, locally sourced aqua in it? Until they put in a 10 hour work day off the books, mopping up after fat white kids sloppier than Joe Biden after forgetting to wash down his adderall with his extra Fierce bottle of Gatorade first.
My wife’s good friend from college has taken up micro-dosing magic mushrooms on a daily basis around her kid. But she’s also in the process of taking marriage therapy sessions to. So doesn’t that make getting the giggles more difficult to achieve when you see in sweeping, heart pulsating detail how much her son inherited dad’s droopy defeated sense of disgust with life already? Especially since the Indie rock artist reinvented himself as a software engineer, which is a far cry from banging out more Gold Records and shrieks of joy from shrieking female fans because only ugly girls go to coding boot camp. Plus, the typical pearl command line isn’t, “Massage my carpel tunnel, ho.”
I’m tired of my dad using the anti-semite excuse every time he isn’t embraced warmly by others. Perhaps, my dad would be embraced more warmly by strangers in Restaurants if he wasn’t so stingy with complimenting the chef for getting his Lobster Roll prepared by the time he reminds his son how he hasn’t gotten an agent yet again.
It’s hard for me to get aroused by the Amazon show Man From The High Castle. It’s like getting excited about watching the reality show finale for the Amazing Master Race, knowing you’re bound to get blue balls regardless, assuming, you’re not a self-hating, sell out Jewish propogandist for the fakes news NY Times. I’m not comparing lamented vaccination cards to being forced to wear a gold star on my Ted Baker button shirt. But talk of mask mandates regardless if you’ve been vaccinated or not and lowering the eligible age for kids to get the jabs, door to door peddling of pandemic shots feels a tad fascist forced if you ask me. I won’t follow the Nazi experimental science that’s not even FDA approved, resulting in 6000 plus deaths, when I’ve been smoking weed out of a metal bat on and off till I discovered edibles from the Berkshires, only 45 minutes away and my lungs feel great. Dice lives again, holla, thank you very much.
I think most Americans are more painfully aware of the media’s COVID freak out scare tactics than ever before. For example, the other day, my wife had me watch Gordon Ramsey cook a bean and hash brown dish with some pork in it. I said, “Babe, I can use the fake news Pancetta you got from Whole Foods once, that stuff was delicious. She says, “Why do you have to describe everything as fake news every other 2 seconds?” I said, “What did we learn from the Mueller Report again babe? Oh yeah, Mueller only parts his hair with good old fashioned elbow grease. And anyone who voted for Trump has been declared a domestic terrorist by the FBI while the peaceful insurrectionist protestors at the Stop The Steal Rally remain beaten, bloodied and tortured within their hole of death for daring to protest against the lack of hard scientific data that would lead any American to believe Mr. Groper got more votes than Obama when his campaign rallies couldn’t even fill out the Little Mermaid’s claim shell bras.”
Fuck Disney owned Fox to. COVID scare tactics won out. So did systematic voter fraud. But Jesse Owens didn’t run Hitler’s master race theory into the ground for nothing. And my Jewish grandfather didn’t die from cancer radiation after World War 2 so Meghan Rapinoe can kick Nazi destroyers in the nuts by taking a knee for fake news fro Collin Kaepernick. Who still got the biggest unemployment check by the NFL ever recorded. What, he has a fake news fro? Have you ever seen a bi racial afro that big before? Slash tried to grow it out and it was a total flop. No, we the people, know the score. Americans love winners, not cheaters. Americans love to champion the underdog. Americans ended slavery, Africa and China didn’t. Palestinians nationalists support terrorists in charge to bleed the UN for all it’s worth. Americans love American pride, almost as much as our kids futures. And there is zero future to be giddy about unless Dominion voting machines become kaput, fixing, worldwide election fraud once and for all. So we the people, can pounce on our pursuit of happiness again with less jaded, weighed down gold dimmed hearts, USA, USA, USA!
With or without you is about who again Bono? Some Irish gal with fucked up chompers, who swallowed but grazed from time to time?
New York ego in a nutshell. I say to my younger brother, “Florida and Anti-Semitism are so hot right now.” He says, “Florida’s hot because so many New Yorkers have moved there.” I thought it was because their Governor will become the next president of The United States. Assuming, Mr. Groper doesn’t nuke America the Beautiful into smithereens 1st while muttering Wasps Rule, honky.
Chris Rock says the worst thing about the made in Wuhan virus, designed to wipe out large swaths of life, kill off the small business owner and any veneer of fair elections ever happing again, is being a faceless nobody in a mask for a whole year. I thought Chris Rock and Mary J Blige were the only black people who lives in Montclair, New Jersey according to Chris?
Didn’t he get to work on FX when the entire country was shut down and forced to pretend they enjoyed remote learning for their kids? While Jeffrey Toobin at the New Yorker, forced every Zoom meeting forward to start with, “For all you perverted, Jeffrey Toobin degenerates, raise your hands up high, where I can see them.”
Chris Rock missed being noticed. You could’ve looted a Target with no mask on Chris without fearing any career hampering restrictions. But you’re cool with Lebron and company taking a knee for the National Anthem, because guaranteed money in the NBA is so oppressive. Now, cops are Ice Cube’s best friend, since they’ve been unmasked as neutered gimps in the face of peaceful protests, resembling Public Enemy videos come to life. Fuck the police actually takes on a loving Motown feel now, to show how much you appreciate them taking a knee, because they’ll be caught dead wearing Nike sweats till their grave no matter what. I’m positive a looter would’ve taken a time out from snagging more high definition TVs to ask for your autograph Chris, without sweating the tossed salad man on the horizon. Especially since bail was eliminated, proving blue balls for men in blue don’t matter, because it’s impossible to maintain sustained stiffage, when bad guys are being rereleased by the time Deblasio wraps up his 2nd set of 10 pound curls at the Park Slope Y.
If Chris Rock wants his name to pack real heat again, he should befriend the head of BLM who just scored a cushy new TV development holding deal with Warner Brothers. He could host a new reality show for big money like, Lifestyles Of Rich Bitch, BLM Activists, holla, thank you very much.
This is my 9-year-old daughter playing marriage counselor again. Enough daddy, mama got your point mid breath. Holla, thank you very much.
My wife is pushing me to see a therapist for my anger management issues. I suggested primal scream therapy. Wife says, “Don’t you do that on your podcast already?” I say, “How would you know? You’re only 460 episodes behind babe. Never mind your complete lack of interest in the 7 books I’ve written since our lucky number 3 was born. John Lennon wishes he was this productive during his stay-at-home dad years.” Holla, thank you very much.
Wife insists our 3 child Samuel, gets bored whenever he spends too much with her. I always knew he was a quick learner.
My son Samuel was bound to woo. He stops traffic at the Stop and Shop even after the prime rib sample station has closed. Random Italian grandmas consistently bum rush the kid and say, “You’re gorgeous. When you get older, you’ll have 3 girlfriends to juggle.” I’ll reply, “If James Woods had this face, your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.”
All my fights with my wife revolve around me not making money off my comedy yet. Since I got kicked off Twitter, I can’t even write off a joke about the Chinese resisting Wuhan lab investigations more than Aquafresh as a charitable donation anymore. Holla, thank you very much.
Imagine John Lennon resenting Paul McCartney for shaming him into becoming a stay-at-home dad against his will. Paul McCartney did write Hey Jude in honor of John Lennon’s neglected son Julian, who Lennon didn’t spend much time with during the rise of Beatlemania. 2 seconds into a leisurely baby stroll through Central Park West with his 2nd kid Sean, John Lennon yells up at the sky, “Choke on a fucking Cucumber Scone Paul. Playing the role of stay-at-home dad, is no walk in the park mate. Even primal scream therapy has its limitations, like trying to snuggle off bad acid with Yoko whenever Dr. Leary drops by with more CIA made ACID again.” Holla, Thank you very much.
The Left says there is a rise in anti-Semitism and Islamophobia. Arabs chanting “Hitler was right” and “Allah is great” while beating up pushover Jews in the streets of New York, London, and Los Angeles, with the blunt ends of Palestinian flag poles while the cops do shit to protect them, doesn’t mirror the act of extending an olive branch in the hopes of giving peace another chance either. I don’t see these sparks of divinity inspiring observant Jews to skip Shabbat dinner at home in favor of going to a new oxygen bar opening in Astoria once the mask mandate is cleared in NY either.
Palestinians attacking Jews in the subway, asking random New Yorkers who’s Jewish, so they could beat the shit of them with the ends of Palestinian flag poles doesn’t inspire me to try out that authentic shawarma stand in Astoria, despite the elite Yelper claiming, “It’s worth getting your skull cap crushed into your cranium for it.” The elite yelper throws in a warning advisory label in her review to and says, “Just don’t call random Palestinians attacking Jews in broad daylight, Islamic supremacists, that’s a big no go zone area in Allah’s book. Bill Maher would concur. Because he knows Israel will never achieve a 2-state solution with Palestine if Hamas keeps fucking.” Holla, thank you very much.
I’m afraid to reveal the totality of my Mezuzah necklace on the subways in NY these days. That doesn’t make me Islamophobic. It just means I’m scared of getting pushed on to the subway track and having my white man’s disease preventing me from jumping back up to the subway platform in a NY minute in the nick of time. I can’t even do one legitimate pull up if my Do It All Dad Tree Trunk was riding on it. But I’m supposed to be overly confident in adrenaline alone to catapult me high enough to grab on to the subway platform before pulling myself up to safety like the Jewish Stallone in Cliffhanger? Yeah, and Rashida Talib is the Chief Happiness Officer for Breitbart.
Imagine being surrounded by a bunch of crazed Palestinian nationalists on the subway, demanding for you to tell them if you’re Jewish, without having to prove it by whipping out your business card from Goldman Sachs 1st.
Equity research analyst David Rosenbluth from Short Hills, New Jersey tenses immediately and says, “Jewish, no, of course not. Look, under my arm, I still read the New York Times. I don’t even know how many zeros are in a trillion. I count with my fingers for simple arithmetic, which your people invented from what I’ve read in the Atlantic, Mazel Tov. Oh vey! Please don’t kill me. I’ll block Mark Ruffalo on Twitter. Israel is guilty of genocide, not Mao, Stalin or Pol Pot. I voted for Obama twice. I think Farsi is the most beautiful sound in the universe to. And Obama loves Hitler. Obama wishes he was that organized. Gassing all his nuke deal critics would be a gas. Palestinian nationalist says, “You’re too funny for a WASP. Samir, chop his fucking head off. So we can jump for joy like it’s 9/11 again already. And I thought David Lee Roth was a long-winded Jew.”
This is Mark Ruffalo apologizing to Jon Stewart about accusing Israel of genocide. Mark Ruffalo calls. “Hey, Jon, it’s Mark. Sorry about accusing Israel of genocide despite them giving Hamas plenty of advance warning to get their kids the fuck out of dodge before they strike back again and again. Normally, genocidal maniacs like Mao prefer to starve millions to death. And Jews don’t like to blow through money if they can avoid it.” Jon Stewart says, “Don’t sweat it, Mark. I don’t care if you repeat old school Farrakhan talking points like the mulatto version of Public Enemy. Nor do I care if Palestinians get green with envy about the Jews controlling the Federal Reserve and all the banks in the North Pole to. I let Trever Noah reveal what partisan hacks my Emmy winning writers have become by siding with ANTIFA and BLM to silence any form of speech that paints them or their enablers in the White House and establishment media as the fascist, racist terrorist enablers that they are, regardless of how much CNN orders Kamal Bell to pontificate otherwise like a schlumpy, unfunny Paul Mooney for hire. I also didn’t press Obama on my show to do a better job of selling his time out deal with Iran, which had less legs than Lieutenant Dan. So, what difference does it make?” Hillary Hammer Time Cankles lives. Holla, thank you very much.
Biden wanting to ban menthol cigarettes doesn’t come off as too elitist. Why not ban Parliaments so yenta breathes from Long Island are forced to fill up on BLM love juice to keep their hunger pangs away during Spring Break on Montego Bay?
Why didn’t Obama try to ban menthol cigarettes? Did the idea not test well in Max Water’s district of South Central LA?
Biden doesn’t care about black people being the victims of cool advertising for Newport cigarettes. He just wants to dissuade Hunter from a post cigarette smoke after he spews his white priveledge seed over all over Cardi B’s face.
California banning Newport smokes doesn’t mean they care about providing good lives for enterprising, hardworking black men today. All the ban does is embolden white supremacy by promoting the idea, whitey lawmakers know what’s best for more fatherless black kids from Inglewood, living up to no good.
If California really cared about BLM, they wouldn’t force the LAPD to dismantle their hardcore gang division because Ethan Hawke wouldn’t stick out his neck to save jack shit post Training Day in this post woke, Thug Lives Matters assault on any American citizen well or off or not, from ever feeling comfy dinning Al Fresco ever again, holla, thank you very much.
Massachusetts banned the sale of all flavored cigarettes like Newport menthol cigarettes to. How many famous black rappers with super cool style emerged from the projects in Boston again? Marky Mark doesn’t count, sorry. But seriously, Massachusetts acting like they give a shit about extending the lifespan of black men in this country is like Harvard University claiming it cares about rewarding Asian American Academic excellence over you know who. Whose the hypocritical divisive cunt breath now?