Land Of Land O’ Lakes

Our state of the union is like Stephen Colbert’s handle on funny these days, shaky. It’s too bad Bill O’Reilly is no longer important enough to impersonate. At least Bill O’Reilly gave Colbert gave gravitas. Only 1 million out of 350 million Americans even watch Colbert on a nightly basis. So, if I offended half a million people with that joke while making fun of 2 activist mouthpiece idols on both sides of the American evangelist divide, then you can go woke yourselves to. I created the material in United We Laugh for you and the millions, and millions, who think The Rock is guilty of cultural appropriation for exploiting the Rocky franchise name for its worth. Has the Rocky statue been taken down yet because it promotes white supremacy? Jokes like this is what make me a Shadowbanned Comedian. What’s a Shadowed Comedian? A comedian social media can’t stand because they dare to take a stand against bullshit narratives like Thug Lives Matter Most, that sort of thing. Then, you get banned from Twitter for claiming the Chinse have resisted Wuhan lab leak investigations more than AquaFresh. Or you cancel your Facebook account all together, because you’re sick of Good Will Hoodie shutting down accounts of scientists and doctors who promote Hydroxychloroquine, who don’t ascribe to the absolute dictum, In Fuck Face Fauci We Trust, no matter what. Or you cancel your Facebook account because you’re no longer thrilled with the idea of your retired parents spying on your life from afar knowing the site has turned baby boomers into the laziest, most hands-off grandparent generation of all time. Lifting a finger is liking a pic of their grandkids, assuming they’re not hugging flags on Main Street or without their stay-at-home comedian father in it, wiping up with the Sunday New York Times after Taco Tuesday night. More specifically, a Shadowbanned Comedian might as well be a Chinese comedian because his freedom of speech isn’t protected by Zit Face Zuck, or from Twitter Twat CEO Jark Doresy or from Cling On cheesy incarnate Jeff Bezos, who’s guilty of sending dick picks to. And I thought Alexa farting on demand for my kids was the death of small talk. Actually, I hear Bezos packs a formidable bulge. At the same time, his new lover used to be married to ultra-yoked out, Hall of Famer Tight End Tony Gonzalez. So happy denting AJAX man. And there’s no way Jeff Bezos tastes good, Ben Shapiro included. Amazon bans certain books for so called hate speech violations yet has no problem selling Mein Kamph. Who narrates the audio version of Mein Kamph, Edward Norton? His participation can remain anonymous. The NY Times only unmasks ICE Agent home addresses to ANTIFA because homeland security was so, Weapons of Mass Destruction Years. Write a book critical of critical race theory and you’re banned from making a living selling books on Amazon forever. Write a spirit cooking book for gender fluid pedophiles and the editorial gatekeepers at Amazon will lick it up, oh, oh, oh. Kiss lives. Can I get a holla for some Challah? For more jokes Gen X Dads understand and beyond, thank you very much.  Amazon says their online bookstore has no room for hate, but Mein Kampf is 720 pages of hate speech in a row, in spastic spitting German on Crystal Meth no less, which sounds twice as mass murderish, compared to Dr. Fauci, AKA, Dr. Gnochi, complaining about the right-wing media attacks on him for lying to congress about financing Gain of Function research in Wuhan, which only increases the transmissibility of the virus, no big deal. The politicization of the virus, that killed off our kids age of innocence faster than Sam Kinson giving Drew Barrymore his coke dealer’s number at Comedy Store on a slow Tuesday is.

Some real deep, smart guy once said, “Laughter is sound of comprehension.” Because for the joke to get laugh, you typically agree with the funny point or humorous phrased outcome in it. I’m putting this book out there to prove that we can still find more common ground to agree on the more laughs we make, regardless of how controversial certain topics appear to be, that have ruined dinner parties for all parties for the foreseeable future. United We Laugh is my olive branch to help our country recover from our endlessly divisive, grandstanding ways by focusing on real evil targets like Hamas who doesn’t do nuance, last time I checked. Again, the word controversy means to cause a disagreement. My intention is to prove how we can unite through laughter through jokes about aspects of controversial topics, most can agree upon. For those frowny faces who oppose, let the triggered twat tweets of rage begin, USA, USA.

Gun Control

They don’t have school shootings in Israel because the teachers are all ex-military who know how to handle firearms responsibly like real life Hebrew Hammers. Also, guns don’t kill people if the FBI actually had a school shooting quota to fulfill, as if their pensions, book deals or shooting the shit time with Jack Tapper on CNN were riding on it.  The FBI should be banned from Starbucks if they don’t follow up on the next school shooter lead. Coffee should be for closers, not for fake news do good posers in FBI windbreakers.  David Mamet lives. Can I get a holla for some Challah? Thank you very much.

Global Warming

I don’t sweat Global Warming because Al Gore’s film career has cooled considerably.


Planned Parenthood is an oxymoron, don’t you think? Nobody plans to cut off their connection to God or shrug off maternal waves, if Karen’s romantic prospects and job options don’t feel pregnant with life improving topping possibility after graduating from Kenyon college with a degree in Frumpy Feminism either.

White Supremacy

I don’t see Ernie on TNT claiming he’s got bigger ups than Barkley after housing a Tomahawk Chop for 2.   

Charter Schools

The kids will be taught to hate Israel’s right to defend itself in college eventually anyway. So, like Hillary Hammer Time Cankles says, “What difference does it make?” I also love school uniforms that Charter Schools require. Because you feel like you’re getting dressed up for a more important job to do than getting stoned 1st thing in the AM to even shitter rap music to boot. Plus, it’s hard to feel like a slacker stoner in Khakis devoid of any dreamy ambition in life either.

Universal Healthcare

If it guarantees my kids won’t have to wait in line behind 500,000 dreamers in the ER, Then, it’s all Bueno Holmes.

Marijuana Legalization

I know New York City wants nothing to do with celebrating white privilege these days. But the Big Apple isn’t Detroit yet either. So, can the city maintain the allure of Manhattan remaining a high-end tourist destination that doesn’t reek of shit weed everywhere you go? Have the new mayor sign an exclusive distribution agreement with Mike Tyson’s Knockout Weed Ranch in Northern California, something.

Universal Income

Like Boston singer songwriter guitar wiz, Tom Schultz sings in Peace of Mind, “People living in competition, all I want is to have my piece of pie.”  And a lit agent that can locate their ball sack for me sometime this century. So, they can put their inner Ari Gold to work, sell the film rights to my books The Great American Jew Novel and Waste of Height, Really Short Stories. When they’re not scoring me a comedy record holding deal from Atlantic Records, after they hear my Burning Mask Party comedy record demo to kick off their 4th of July party in the Cape, draped in Vineyard Vines, dressed for new success, assuming their balls are bigger than Mike Love’s Beach Balls for thinking Brian Wilson is more non-essential than he is.

I love my Land Of Land O’ Lakes, which gave birth to the likes of Brian Wilson, Anthony Bourdain, Miles Davis and The Allman Brothers. All of these American made success stories that stretch from the Sunshine state to New York Island, with soul shine sparkly light, made you proud to be an American, in a place where you no longer feel so free. Unless you’re a feckless, Canadian cunt like Samantha Bee. Dr. Seuss lives. Can I get a holla for some Challah? Thank you very much

Michael Kornbluth

Naughty By Nature Chili

He who controls the spice controls the universe.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

You want to make Chili with legs? Then, look less gross making it in your oversized red and black checkered flannel shirt and trim your poor man’s ZZ Top beard. You’re a hot sauce sales rep from Long Island, not an oil rig owner’s slacker son from Odessa, Texas.

Being naughty adds zest to our days and has no age. For example, for lunch today I offered my son a mini-Diet Coke if he promised to not pound it in one sip and put it away back in the fridge to sneak in other sips once night falls the way he normally does. Although this time, my 7-Year-Old son says, “It’s not any fun that way. I’d rather sneak in the sips behind your back as usual.”  Understand, my son isn’t a problem child, who’s way sweeter than naughtier by nature compared to his old man. Granted, he’s only 7 and his Internet search history searching for Harry Potter Lego building videos on his Amazon Fire doesn’t make him Kid Rock calling 1st dibs on the barebacking train with Gianna Michaels at the AVN awards after party in Vegas, without bothering to pull out to leave those jizz freeing beauties a pearl necklace in redneck paradise.

But how do we get kids into chili who associate spicy food with drawn out, unsolicited agony on par with commercials ruining their cloud free TV?  First, make your chili out of love, imbibed with generous heaping’s of layered spiced flavor like any Kid Rock album where he sings, “I’m going to New Orleans, someone is going to treat me right and going to have a crawfish pie to start my day.” You never had crawfish before? Imagine shrimp with personality.  Chili devoid of spice is hot Gazpacho soup with depressingly dreary beans. Still, you can’t make spicy Chili for your kids, without raising their tolerance for spice or risk 1s,t, or they’ll be less likely to trust your urgings to take a walk on the wild side again, like the time you pushed your 3 kids to power through the watering hole in Woodstock with an unexpected, far from chill current on your tail or the time you encouraged your son to jump off the swing to freak out the local moms at Roselle Park in Pleasantville, NY after singing at the top of your lungs, “I’m going to take you higher.” Only for your son to take a mini tumble, skinning his knee a tad yet still finding the fortitude to bounce right back up before Dad asks him, “When you fall off the horse, what do you do?” And your son says, “Call Child Services.”

Being naughty sometimes means doing things in secret, because without any element of surprise, there ‘s no arousing, joyous lift, that makes the moment stick out from the same old situation. To achieve my goal of raising adventurous, risk taking kids who don’t flinch at the sight of a Jalapeno popper on Superbowl Sunday, I’ve been sneaking in doses of heat throughout all their meals for years like a Stay-At-Home Shaman Comedian. Since all my kids ate more than just Strawberries and boobie milk, which tastes like a regrettable, non-fate latte, I’d slip in red chili pepper flakes into my homemade penne vodka, knowing it would open them to a world of more tongue tantalizing, mind blowing, life enriching possibilities, by helping foster a sense of semi risking taking adventurism, versus me catering to their every request, so they’d become another entitled, enabled, fussy eater toddler twat like the rest.

You have to take baby steps, similar to me starting with Budweiser in high school, pale ale’s after college and double IPA’s in my forties for more fully loaded, concentrated blasts of a happiness in a glass. Now, every time I drink a pale ale again, I regret the decision immediately, because my taste buds have graduated to greener, more sumptuous pastures ever since. I have to bite my lip enough around a name calling, door slamming, f bomb hurling, always right wife, who threatens to kick me out of the house away from my 3 biggest fans in the universe, if I plan on following through with writing another book again. So, at this stage of my life, I’ve lost all desire to circumcise my happiness, which is denying myself the pleasure for the sake of trying to live out a calmer, less bombastic version of myself, because my opinions and passion for comedy gold generation are too aggressively edgy cheery for their tastes.

Now being naughty isn’t exclusive to cheating or being a sketchy, secretive fuck either. For example, one time, I won my son a big inflatable bat at Rock and Jump and as we left the building, my 4-year-old son thrusts the inflatable bat between his legs and says, “Daddy, check out my new penis. It’s bigger than Big John Stud.”  

Naughty is spicing things up, which can be as simple as using the Shishito peppers I discovered at the last minute in the freezer , which my wife’s friend gave us to throw into the chili as an inspired, improvised, las minute thrown in, after I realized the regular Jalapeno peppers didn’t pack enough collective oomph to turn my kids on to the expansive, soul penetrating powers of good heat circulated Chili, enough to raise their eyebrows and blow their minds with explosive edge like when I actually explained what OPP means, before writing this piece. I explained both versions if you’re wondering.

I used Kosher turkey meat for my Naughty By Nature Chili and threw in continuous sprinklings of mortar pulverized black ground pepper because added spice adds more uplifting rocking edge to our days. Also, make sure you don’t plop in the red kidney beans until the last 15 minutes or else they’ll become deflated shells of themselves like Rebel Wilson’s tits.

Eating chili doesn’t have to remind you of your perpetually broke twenties or early forties now, if it’s made with spicy, spontaneous, over the top love, which increases your tolerance for risk and adventure like Christopher Columbus after his 1st VD shot.

Michael Kornbluth