New Jokes for Funnier Twin Record

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.

Michael Kornbluth

America Winning Again Soon

Vermont should change its 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 gets 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 gets 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 Angeles 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 Breitbart 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 swinger’s 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 stockpile 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 daughters 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 workday 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 biracial 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. Palestinian 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!

Michael Kornbluth













Lifeguards Triggering

Biden has ruined lifeguards for me. Add going out to Ice Cream with my kids without thinking of him crapping in his nappy mask again because Jill won’t let him wear her pantyhose around his face instead because she hasn’t owned any since Ann Taylor rung the bell at the NY Stock Exchange in the summer of 89.

Mr. Groper has also ruined reading alt right branded website articles about Americans trusting the media less than the integrity in our Supreme Court since they let Democracy die under their BLM bust and move watch.

Refusing to judge on Election Fraud, the Supreme Court has helped ANTIFA light up the record books for doing nothing to stop them extending the longest pyromania stretch into adulthood ever recorded, post ISIS and the Crusades.

But seriously, Biden has made it impossible for me to even try to warm up to another dopy, smug, yet blank brained lifeguard ever again. Who’s whiter than James Corden after Brian May jams a carrot up his ass for Karaoke Carpool for Bottom Girls love to be pegged by anything sharp and pointy, veggies included or else you can’t have your pudding, you tubby, slovenly sell out establishment bitch.

Michael Kornbluth

The Eunuch Sentimentalist

Listening to Steve Perry’s new album on Spotify this morning made feel like the eunuch sentimentalist in Game of Thrones. But why am I so hurried desperate to relink with my age of innocence again?  Granted, anyone who remains a stay-at-home dad on purpose wants to remain a eunuch for the time being. At the same time, why do cocksure heterosexual men or gender fluid shemale comedians like me feel compelled to deride some sappy sad downer power ballad songs as eunuch sentimentalist music at all? I think it’s because as we get older and get a tad more jaded around the edges of a broken heart, we don’t buy into the irrefutable, absolute truisms behind certain famous sing along lyrics by Chicago such as, “How can I go on?” How can I go on? Find a fresher, tighter snatch to fall in love with for starters, who doesn’t deride the workshopped over, comedic genius behind iconic, FX shows such as Rescue Me as being merely sexist. Just because a bunch of hot chicks throw themselves at Dennis Leary’s fireman character, which isn’t a radical departure from reality considering the post 9/11 times it was made in. Understand, before 9/11, Firemen as a whole in New York were derided by the NYPD as mere cat tree snatchers, burnt out line cooks or Magic Mike wannabes. 9/11 changed all that. That’s why DeBlasio shooting down the Freedom Tower tribute ceremony this past year over alleged COVID concerns was ridiculously stupid. Because out of the blue, I don’t think 9/11 1st responders were sweating the prospect of catching an itchy esophagus. Now, regardless of the NYPD being defunded or not, they’ve lost the moral high ground over New York City Fireman, since every day now for the cops is standing down day. Cops in NY have so much free time on their hands now, they’re the ones taking how to make ravioli from scratch classes at the 92 St. Y. Cops who insist on taking a knee today proves how undercover cops who haven’t retired yet prematurely from the force are still down with wearing Nike sweats no matter what.

But momentous, hair standing on the back of your neck tingly songs like the Flame by Cheap Trick still sway my heart toward more promise filled tomorrows than any shitty, melodic free rap song by Nipsey Hussle ever could, which is a testament to the timeless appeal behind emotive, heartfelt, male articulated lyrics man. Versus most radio friendly rap songs both old and new, which deride woman interested in riding a rapper’s joystick out of its socket as mere money grubbing, stupid ass, over the hill hos. Sebastian Bach, original lead singer of Skid Row claims only teenage girls bought their debut record because of their monster rock ballad hit, I Remember you. So, you’re a twinkle toe bitch boy for pretending you bought the debut record Skid Row to hear Big Guns and Rattle Snake Shake again and again, otherwise. Reality is though, the soaring guitar solo in I Remember You, is exalted high end heartfelt rock at its finest.  That sounds even more kick ass melodic special over time, because it’s my eunuch sentimentalist music, that came out in my time, when I didn’t even hit puberty yet, let alone have a clue on how to exert my manhood if it finally bloomed under my Fruit of the Looms after feeling like the last kid to enter the puberty party in school.  But that’s ok, because I grew a sack eventually, and some hair on it to or else I never would’ve dared to make it through my never ending pain period as a cold calling IT agency headhunter at 22 in LA, a long, long, way from home nor would’ve I ever contemplated trying open mike standup at the Rainbow Lounge on Sunset, where Hair Metal sleaze incarnate Ratt once reigned supreme, getting endless perfect tens to let their bodies do their talking for them. I also wouldn’t have hit on my future wife and mother of my 3 pitch perfect sounding kids after hitting on 3 other girls prior with relentless, horn dog crazed, wheel and deal zeal without the power ballad soundtrack of my youth pulsating through my on with the show heart.

 

So why are underlying hopeful power ballads that prove men are capable of being deeper than the eighteenth hole considered soft core girly again? Men in long hair and makeup back in the seventies and eighties singing songs starting with Barry Manilow didn’t counterbalance that perception one bit. Meanwhile, Ronnie Van Zandt sang Free Bird, which was considered an original power ballad of its day and he’d make Neil Young his Canadian cunt in the can without breaking a sweat while yelling, “More shriekish wailing Young. I’m not buying you being whipped on a southern man being all free and up in your jail bird ass just yet.”

Power Ballads are considered soft girly because most men are too chicken shit to spill their innards out to a woman in person let alone on wax after a record company fronts them 200,000 thousand dollars to make it for millions to hear. Power Ballads will always woo because they burst with romantic longing for more hopeful filled tomorrows, which hold out the promise of soothing the tissue torn teen hearts in us all, especially among us gun shy dudes plagued by our frozen with fear pasts. But I don’t buy for minute the horseshit premise which insists that the era of Internet porn on demand, flush with tatted out white girls on Crystal meth has completely stripped our need for the comforting lift, that great power ballads provide us all.  Hair Metal Nation on Sirus Radio doesn’t exist without the power ballad hits, that never lost the pull they have on Gen X guys and gals because it’s Eunuch sentimentalist music that hit big in our hearts in our time, it belongs to us, and nobody can ever take that away from WE. Also, when we all fell in love with the soft, soothing sounds of 9pm clock radio music by REO Speedwagon, we weren’t fixated on the singer or image from the video but on our aching, incomplete hearts, longing for a willing recipient of our love bursts already. Big tits are great, but they don’t overcompensate for an ok face or an even worse bitch laden, one note heart that fluctuates from softcore bitch to full-fledged, scowly cunt in a NY Minute.

What makes power ballads so powerful? Featherly light finger tapping by CC on Every Rose Has Its Thorn is great, no doubt. For me though, what makes power ballads so powerful, is the rousing, never say die attitude for giving love another shot with all you got like the late great Jani Lane from Warrant sings with such soul stirring feeling on Sometimes She Cries. Holding out the hope of more pregnant filled tomorrows is what makes power ballads pack some extra exalted, it’s not over yet asshole, oomph for me. Is it time to move past 14 yet? Not even close, because like the serially underrated Britney Foxx screeched back in the day with ultra throaty, soul metal verve, “It’s a long way to love.” So don’t give up on your storybook romance life just yet. You dream the fuck on, until you make your new dreams to remember come true, or else love really does bite if you allow it to get into last lacerating lick and stop believing in your right to live a fulfilling life, flush with your own fair share of Heavy Metal highs to cherish forever.  Save the week like Britney Foxx did. Hound down your innermost love. And never allow anyone the power to damper your special spark shine inside, that gives you more than a feeling. Boston lives. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Daddy Issues Daddy

Doing laps in the pool, gasping for air after lap 2, away from my 3 kids for the 1st time in a long, long time. I say to the couple lounging nearby as I come up gasping for air again, “I don’t even suck down weed from a metal bat anymore yet I’m huffing and puffing like Miley Cyrus trying to mouth Metallica lyrics on extra strength weed edibles. Still can’t believe my dad didn’t force me into regular swimming ever like Rocky in Rocky 3. So, I’d have some semblance of muscle memory to plug into today. Afterwards, as the lounging, smile ready couple proceeds to leave the pool I say, “Thanks for letting me go long and never giving me the light to wrap up my set already. Now, whenever I interrupt my kids precious train of thought again, they’ll point their arm out at me and say, “Pause Daddy.” Works like a charm every time.” Older poolside couple on their way laughs long time.



At the car dealership getting a new key after jumping into the pool prior with the electronic key on me prior. White privilege issues, represent, represent. And that’s not because the black man isn’t dominant in swimming to, which makes zero sense like NBA players today being more brittle than Kamala Harris under border control questioning.

Two genius ideas I share with my daughter over the phone to keep secret. First, I record my next comedy record in JFK country in Cape Cod but take our cat left behind like an intentional anchor my wife, only to call that podcast episode, Miss Kitty Does Cape Cod. 2nd genius idea, is writing my next book of fiction based on these mental health testing, blatantly avoidable COVID controlled times where my kids have have actually used the S word, to describe how depressingly dark it got for them during their 2 year blended learning experiment, which went down worse than mixing, malt liquor, southern comfort shots and gravity bong hits in that order without the temporary heady buzz relief in between either. And this career launching book is called 3 Year Wave Runner Plan. Because that’s when my daughter will be old to old enough to get a Bat Mitzvah gift like no other. More importantly, it gives me a concrete deadline to make my funny man career fertilize funny man loads of money already because Wave Runners make you immune to depressive turns to the suicide side. Danish Tosh lives. And I thought I was a hilarious shishy bitch. Thank you very much.



At the pool club, riffing or sampling as usual, and I ask a nice looking couple. Do you live in CT? They say, “Yes.” I say, “Glad I asked. Was going to make a CT joke but I actually love CT. I call CT the New, New York. I’m a native New Yorker myself and live in the northern suburbs of New York currently, yet the current state of Manhattan doesn’t give my New York bred ego much to brag about anymore these days either. All I ask is that Manhattan smells like a higher grade of weed sometime this century. So New York City can feel posh, exclusive again. Aren’t there enough unemployed undergraduate burnout students from Kenyon college to make the smell of green sparking magic more common place at least by Washington Square Park to counterbalance the smell of freshly roasted crack rock for a change?

New game plan in life: Find a hot actress to write a career relaunching script for like Winona Ryder and call it Gen X Forever.

Message to daughter after mommy aggravated me again by texting me, “Aw, after I made a sweet based comment about our cat Miss Kitty’s interaction with me in their absence, which wasn’t nearly over the top mushy emotive on my part either. I say to my daughter over the phone, “Matilda, when you get older, if you’re lucky enough to find a grown man whose capable of expressing a sweet based side, never ever, reply with “aw”, via text or in person ever. Aw isn’t for somebody done with their baby years already.”

Biggest buzz kill today by the lake. Some dude mixed 4th of July firework talk and soccer talk together in semi-seamless seamed fashion. To make matters worse, I bring this up to my wife over the phone currently in Delaware with our 3 kids, with her English dad who plays the European sport of choice and watches it religiously on the Teli away from his beamish, fuss free, Jew blood tainted, 3 grandchildren as usual on the regular for the past decade and counting with zero confessional driven church regret whatsoever. Wife says, ” We watched soccer with my dad today. I enjoyed watching it. I say, “Oh, so it must be the World Cup then.” Wife says, “No, it’s the European Cup.” I say, “I give a shit even less now, USA, USA, USA.”

Michael Kornbluth




Moving On Out To Russia

I’m moving on out to Russia. You don’t have to worry about Global Warming blather from the local news. Putin defending the use of fracking wouldn’t cause a pussy riot online either. Putin trolls Greta Thunberg and tweets, @GreatThunberg, Fracking actually reduces CO2 emissions. Furry Brow tweets back, “So Neil Young is full of shit now?” Putin showcases a flash of Trumpian wit and fires back with “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So that much, you share in common babe. Why doesn’t Global Warming scare me Greta? Because Al Gore’s speaker has considerably cooled.”

Russians can still take a joke. Trump has ties to Russia. Duh, what mail order bride owner doesn’t? Plus, like the great Russian novelists such as Fyodor Dostoevsky, I prefer my comedy like my coffee, dark and bitter.

Also, you know BLM wouldn’t be allowed to harass patrons dining al fresco in St. Petersburg while slurping up some more Caviar soup. Putin’s so tough, he could snap your neck by just staring at it topless on a horse in the country.

Like Honest Abe said, “I’d rather live in Russia than in a place that lives under the pretense of loving liberty”, the way America does today. But Biden wants our family members and neighbors to rat out Trump supporters over white supremacist concerns because we don’t live by the creed, In Fuck Face Fauci We Trust. Nor are we inclined to believe in objective science anymore, after learning how every past prominent scientist in this country decried the Wuhan lab leak has a conspiracy theory because they didn’t want to be branded as a fake news white supremacist like the rest.

Putin actually said the name of the unarmed, American veteran Ashley Babbitt who was shot in cold blood in the Capital Building after the Stop The Steal Rally, which is more than Trumpy Poo ever mustered the courage to do.

Putin poisons his political opponents. Well, that’s better than pushing a non FDA approved vaccine on your Trump hater supporters that’s leading to more complications than election fraud audit reveals in the great free state of Arizona.

Putin poisons his political opponents. Like doxing ICE agents, immigrants from El Salvador who speak to the NY Times about MS-13, or any moms on Facebook who dare to criticize critical race theory as race divisive bullshit is any different?

Putin poisons his political opponents. Big deal, the blowhard dullard hack would’ve gotten liver cancer at some point anyway. I bet you Putin doesn’t have a fuck up druggie son who creamed in his dead brother’s wife seconds after the cremation ensued. Plus, Putin would never allow the drug cartels from Mexico or communist killers from China to push more Fentanyl through our southern border, that’s killed more crackers in this country than Taylor Swift kicking it with Lena Dunham on Instagram.

Russian journalists today know more about nationalistic pride than terrorist siding pieces of shit liars at the NY times. Who shamelessly pushed golden showers tales about Trump and Russian hookers with less legs than Lieutenant Dan. Plus, no Russian Journalist would ever be dumb enough to believe Trump hired a couple of Russian Hookers to pee on each other at his hotel room in St. Petersburg because he’s a notorious Germaphobe. Especially knowing how Trump could hire a bunch of Ivanka lookalikes to pee on each other at his Trump International Hotel in Washington D.C, whenever he likes. I’m also positive Melania can talk dirty to him in Slovenian whenever, wherever, wearing nothing but a mink hat from Spies Like Us.

Hate filled leftist retards don’t exist in Russia and would never feel morally exalted over anybody by breathlessly slinging endless bullshit enshrouded lies about election interference by the Russians, that made Drago pop out of various voting booths in predominately blue states, issuing life or death ultimatums such as, “Vote Trump or I’ll break you. If you die, it’s your fault for not believing in Holograms.”

Russia would never allow the construction of a George Floyd statue to prove thug lives matter. Especially when 2 billion dollars worth of property damage, and thousands of businesses destroyed for 6 months straight was designed to scare the Supreme Court to ever rule in the favor of law and order ever again.

Last, Billy Joel is the 1st to crowd surf at a concert in Russia before Eddie Vedder ever did. I’m not saying you can’t find a better country than Russia. But America is light years from acheiving Nirvana ever again. Wake me whenever this neverending shit show ends.

Michael Kornbluth

The COVID Jab Pinkie Swear

New York City is reopened again. Cuomo declares victory. He killed off the greatest city the world has in only 15 months flat.

Steven A. Smith claims Durant is the best player to represent New York. Be a more transparent kiss ass Smith. Millennial Mouseketeers would’ve gotten stomped to death in the vastly more rough and tumble era of the eighties NBA. The suffocative defensive play by the Bad Boys, X Man, The Pacers, Kevin Willis and Charles hard as oak Oakley wouldv’e torn Durant’s pipe cleaner arms off like he was the black Gumby. Durant isn’t an actual Playground legend from Brooklyn like Bernard King either. Bernard King was the black Larry Bird on steroids with Rocky’s eye of the tiger snarl in Rocky 2. Who ripped the rim off the fucking basket while going coast to coast like Westbrook on Adderall with far greater chest puffing huffing ease.

Refusing to vote is giving up on America. No, avoiding Voter ID to cheat again is. I forgot. Calling out election fraud is the big lie like humanization being the religion of peaceful Palestinian protestors for hire. Which reminds me, an all Muslim girls prom was just held in Detroit. The prom was like mine, pork free.

I hope nobody votes in America ever again. So, politicians who let Democracy die under their watch without making a peep will feel like emptier imposter do good helpers at Harvard Club than normal till their last, scotch stench filled breath.

Is Baby Face Omar the new face of Banana Republic yet? To model their the new line of casual antisemitism footwear that comes with a complimentary Israeli doormat to boot.

Actually, the Supreme Court gave up on America when they refused to look into the case of election fraud that was more blatant than Jill Biden’s varicose veins with no panty hose on in front of the Queen, who offers stiff competition in that department with her panty hose on in person.

Eric Clapton’s famous music friends like Steve Winwood are avoiding him like the plague now since he opened up about partial paralysis after his 2nd COVID jab. Back on his high horse again with chompers like that. Dear Alexa, play me any song by Cream, Clapton or Derek and Dominoes to make me happy. It’s too bad Steve Winwood isn’t cracking anybody’s top 100 pleasure playlist either.

Nobody has died from the COVID jab. What about boxer legend The Marvelous Marvin Hagler? Oh yeah, MSN debunked the conspiracy theory already despite Tommy Hearns claiming the murderous jab put him out for the count more than his combinations ever could.

I made a COVID jab pinkie swear when my parents asked me to get vaccinated for their behalf. But my father’s shoulders collapse, whenever I go in for a hug for old times sake since I came out as a Trump supporter. Plus, my parents are vaccinated, which grants them immunity from the virus allegedly. So at this point, what difference does it make? Hillary Hammer Time Cankles strikes again. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

The Neverending Shit Show

Do kids in China count bats when they have a hard time staying awake for finals?

Why didn’t you get your vaccination shot yet? Because I don’t have a job at
Salesforce to go back to. Nor am I a CCP controlled pawn of the US military. Plus,
if I wanted to join the Army now, I wouldn’t be accepted in it because my
shemale search history on YouPorn.com, means I’m against Sharia law and genital
mutilation, which isn’t gay enough for Mayor Pete’s butt plug tastes.

Why haven’t I gotten the vaccine yet? Because I don’t light up with joy
at the prospect of wearing a sticker that says, “Just Vaccinated”, in
case you think I’m on Trumpy Poo’s side now to.

Why haven’t I gotten the vaccine yet? Because if shriekish leftist fuck-wads
didn’t have their heads so high up their ass, they’d be able to see, they’re
not the only ones allowed to resist.

Why haven’t I gotten the vaccine yet? Because the pediatrician for my 3 kids
told me to get one and he thinks Biden won fair and square. Yeah, and Hunter
loves giving up blow for blow painting.

If Biden got the most votes in US history, President Trump is allergic to
high end trim.

Why did Biden get more votes than Obama doc? Because Mr. Groper looks like
a more virile Jimmy Carter in Aviators.

School nurse sent my kid home today because he coughed BULLSHIT. After his friend
Hobbs, insisted he got COVID from watching a Trump Rally last year on Fox News.

I hate to see Biden in his diaper mask. It feels like the CCP dumped a
septic tank in my mouth.

Doctor asks me “How do you think your son could’ve gotten COVID?” before the
test results came back. I said, “We looted a Target in Minneapolis for George
Floyd Appreciation Day. But don’t worry doc, we stole all the masks we could
find. So, we could throw a Burning Mask Party  in style, on July 4th to be exact,
to light a fire under any patriotic verve Lady Liberty has left.

Michael Kornbluth

Daily Show King Reigns Supreme

Good for John Stewart for insisting the made in Wuhan virus originated in the Wuhan respiratory Coronavirus Lab. Although, I’d be asking too much for Stewart to claim masks don’t prevent you from getting the virus. Just like Colbert hiding behind his Bill O Reilly schtick didn’t prevent him from catching the funny Jew bone bug from his former boss through sheer osmosis, especially after he became unmasked as a sellout, propagandist shit bag hack for kissing Bat Shit Crazy Pelosi’s ass like the rest.

Michael Kornbluth