The Chickenhead Clone Wars

Unless John Legend is telling me how to tune out his scrunchie face wife, by rehearsing the sounding patterns of certain moonlight sonatas in my head while reading about her by mistake online again, I’m not interested in whatever he has to say next about anything. But thanks for the guided meditation tip on how tune out chickenhead chatter in general Legend.  If you’ve decided to knock your wife up for kid number 4, you’re the subject matter expert king of chickenhead noise cancellation, come rain or shine.

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

Kind Of Sad

Who told Samuel L Jackson it looks cool to dress up like Spike Lee’s grandmother? Who identifies, as a Jazz critic descendant of Sonny Rollins in Tyler Perry’s new film, The Uppity Cunt. Co-starring Jeffrey Wright, who plays a wannabe OG, sax savant brother dropout from Julliard, who plays himself in the latest David Simon joint, after telling his Jazz critic brother, to blow his crap review of his debut, self-produced album, Kind Of Sad, up his ass.

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

 

Kind Of Sad

Who told Samuel L Jackson it looks cool to dress up like Spike Lee’s grandmother? Who identifies, as a Jazz critic descendant of Sonny Rollins in Tyler Perry’s new film, The Uppity Cunt. Co-starring Jeffrey Wright, who plays a wannabe OG, sax savant brother dropout from Julliard, who plays himself in the latest David Simon joint, after telling his Jazz critic brother, to blow his crap review of his debut, self-produced album, Kind Of Sad, up his ass.

Michael Kornbluth