Bank on Bette Getting Dem Ol’ Blues

Joe Biden calling the Democratic Party a unifying force is like calling the Clinton Foundation a charity for others. And Julia Louis Dreyfus could’ve been Joan Rivers if she stuck to Stand-Up. While were at it, let’s accuse President Trump of being a non discriminatory horn dog like Bill, whose allergic to high end trim. Next, still your President Trump through 2024, will give the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Bette Midler for her contribution to making Drag Queen Reading Hour great again, inspiring Drag Queens to show their faces in public during broad daylight under incredibly unforgiving fluorescent library lights, knowing Dolly Parton impersonaters don’t look as flattering without wearing such heavy makeup. If President Trump, feels more than generous than usual, he’ll even invite the Chipmunk Chucker from Golden State and the rest his family to the White House for his post inauguration winning ball, after he wins the popular vote and the electoral this time, to prove that Ray Allen light, in the clutch department to, should’ve left his fake news persecuted existence, being a son of NBA royalty back in San Francisco, where Janis got out when the getting was good. So, cry, cry baby.

Michael Kornbluth

Historic Landslide Coming

The only thing historic about Obama is his refusal to honor the White House of traditions past because they’re culturally biased I’m assuming, by continuing to run his mouth about how President Trump winning an election fair and square is an attack on Democracy, despite his administration being caught illegally spying on Trump’s campaign in 2016 because he’s slipping, falling and can’t shut up.

mMichael Kornbluth

A Stolen Suicide Note Is Better Than None

Robin Williams spent a career stealing bits, taking them higher, and paying those comics he stole from in the 1st place as a form of last minute compensation to assuage their frowning souls for making their material shine way brighter than they ever did, regardless if they killed at the Comedy Store after Louie Anderson or not. So, is it too much to expect Robin Williams, as self-centered as comedians are, to leave his daughter a suicide note to explain why her love wasn’t enough to keep him hanging on?  Not even Billy Crystal could offer me comic relief in the end, even after sampling some new racy material on me about how Billy loves black guys because they don’t discriminate against pussy, unless they get cold feet at the last minute and have to go down on Whoopie under her table spot at the View, even he if just lost a bet to Suge Knight before getting released from the can, that sort of thing.

Losing your memory is super scary but for man of his high intelligence and developed emotional empathy for being born an only child, left to play army figures by himself, who also played Peter fucking Pan for a living for 20 Million bucks. So couldn’t have Robin willed a way to summon some old time Improv magic after making the decision to kill himself and then say out loud to himself, “Yes, killing myself is the only way out of this crippling despair but 1st  remember to love your daughter enough to write her a fucking suicide note, stolen from a Kurt Cobain lyric on Nirvana Unplugged or not.  Make her a Youtube video dressing up like Mrs. Doubtfire singing Jesus Doesn’t Want Me for Sunbeam, anything.”

I know, towards the end, Robin Williams struggled to remember his lines as Teddy Roosevelt on the set of Night At The Museum such as, “Why doesn’t anybody charge DMX of cultural appropriation for thugging up the rough rider brand for all it was worth.”  I get it, for an extended period of time, Robin Williams was used to being the funniest man alive, who never suffered from speechless, dull man disease.  I just feel for bad for his daughter Zelda, who has to take a break from social media on the anniversary of her father’s suicide every year, because she’s emotionally drained from all the effusive, fan mail she receives in her dead dad’s honor, describing all the wonderful memories her dead dad, provided millions of strangers, as she strains to conjure up many loving memories left without her heart punctured heart, thinking, “I’m glad my dad made your life so much happier, than your own dad could. But here’s a concept, ease up on sucking off the spirit of my dead dad during the anniversary of his death every year, knowing Patch Adams would’ve provided me with some modicum of closure, if he didn’t make it all about him again and left me a suicide note that said, 13 reasons, I don’t want to leave this world yet, regardless if I’m not the shining comedy star I used to be or not,  Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, Zelda.

Michael Kornbluth

Sticking With Nerf Football In The Yard

My dad pushing eventual Pee Wee Football on his grandson is another example of him trying to make me bow down to his authoritative opinion, which makes me think he’s the one with brain trauma from feeding his head with too much acid at Woodstock. Because if I bowed down to this belabored, weak ass pitch command request, I would’ve shied away from doing political  material during my speech at my younger brother’s wedding, when I said to his old pal from Boarding School, “ Cam from Canada, make yourself at home and hit somebody. So, Jim Carrey can paint you as an alt right goon on the loose in Charlottesville, with a Tiki Torch in hand, looking like an angry rejected extra from the Sears Catalog in 89.

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

 

What GenX Dads Understand

My 90-year-old great Aunt Marion asks me, “Why does your daughter need to know Kung Fu?” I say, “Because if Uma Thurman knew how to execute the 5 point palm heart exploding punch in real life, Ethan Hawke would’nt have dared to bang their nanny at home, when she was busy filming Kill Bill 2. Also, banging your nanny is such a GenX slacker move. You never have to leave the couch.

Michael Kornbluth