Stuck In High School Taste Land

Moms always ask me, “Why is your son so happy, all the time?” I say, “Funnier dad, happier baby. Plus, he’s got more muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set of Growing Pains with Alan Thicke.”

I hate hearing, “My kids loved remote learning. They got so much more work done. Why should our kids get off so easy? Kids today should be exposed to time sucking meeting overkill the way office space life works in real life or else how else will they develop a much needed tolerance for perpetual, indentured suckitude. Also, the more remote learning becomes mainstream, the less likely our kids will ever rock the Karaoke stage to Teenage Wasteland by the Who with such jump happy, windmill rocking enthusiasm to celebrate those excessively, awkward bummer times becoming less scar tissue heavy downer times in your heart man. You dig? Not talking to you fake news Zionists in bed Mr. Groper no matter what. Your level of comprehension on anything means less to me than Jill Biden’s hair style tips during Scarecrow Appreciation Week, holla, thank you very much.

All guitar players professional or not, have grossly inflated views of themselves like bartenders who rock wool hats within centralized AC splendor, which is a far cry from reliving those Summer Time Blues. Yeah, you possess a more beautiful spirit than Randy Rhodes, got it. Randy Rhodes’s other worldly audition for Ozzy blew a bat out of the Prince of Darkness’s ass from one finger exercise twinkle tap alone. After the Prince of Darkness got kinky with Elvira in his underground wine and cheese cave in his Beverly Hills party pad palace prior.

I’m at the Guitar Store to sign up for guitar lessons and ask the manager there, whose a black dude, “Do black kids come into the Guitar Store today and tell you they want to learn how to play like Vern Reed from Living Color? He’s the black heavy metal version of Hendrix minus the rollicking mysterious personality and big pimping fly guy, feathered Fedora hats in his acid rock friendly wardrobe to enhance his overall pinup appeal. I add, “I remember requesting the song Cult of Personality at a Bar Mitzvah party the second that video broke big. And the DJ had no idea who I was talking about it. DJ says, “Living Color, like the show with Damon Wayans? Nah, DJ Hickey Quickie doesn’t play that.” I clarify, “No the band is called Living Color, not In Loving Color. And how have you not seen the video for Cult of Personality on MTV yet? The video is much less Muslim Brotherhood angry like every other Public Enemy prior, despite Chuck D growing up in an upper middle class suburb within Yenta breath country in Long Island.” Later, I point out to the black store manager how the lead singer of Living Color is actually Danny Glover’s son and add, “They should change the name of the song Cult of Personality to reflect our post woke oppressed times and rename it, Cult of Hollywood Royalty instead. Do you think Danny Glover had Mel Gibson give his son’s demo to the head of Warner Brother Records after doing Lethal Weapon together? Or did Mel resist the request because he avoided meeting Jewish music producers like Phil Spector more than Holocaust film retrospectives on AMC.” The black manger of the Guitar Store was shocked when I told him about Danny Glovers’ son being the lead singer and songwriter of Living Color. You’d think I told him that I thought Kevin Hart was hardcore hilarious all of a sudden, as opposed to being another mildly amused, short on laughs spectator like the rest.

How much social anxiety did Durant face when the press questioned his leadership prowess, after Team USA lost exhibition games against Nigeria and Australia? Right wing reporter from Brietbart Sports asks, “Kevin, you talk all this smack about being a big time leader. Who get’s the best out of others like Lebron or the way Chipmunk Chucker did with Golden State this year, with less reliable shooting options available after ANTIFA wildfires burned up every safe space shoot up, dose off playground bench left in Portlandia. What do you say to all your critics, who are more in the right to question your ability to inspire the will to win no matter what, among your tinier, less endowed, coddled teammates, Damian Lillard, excluded? Durant says, “Go woke yourself honky. I didn’t know Nigeria went to Hakeem the Dream, Dream Shake Camp free of charge. Plus, I didn’t know team Australia hired ex Bulls center Luc Longley to train their big men on the down low, down under. Luc had a more reliable jump hook than Draymond Green ever did. Am I coming down too hard on aw shucks Draymond now? Well, Draymond Green should be able to take what he dishes out, knowing how much punishment he delivers below the belt already.”

Who prices the art for Hunter’s blow paintings that blow exactly? The Tooth Fairy of Beijing who leaves 500 grand under his Chinese silk pillow every time he cuts his tooth into another masterpiece as a reward for giving up blow for blow painting like Tom Hank’s kid whose more into being the black sheep rapper wannabe in the family instead.

Friendship litmus test for borderline old school fair weather friends. Text the links to my past 4 comedy records in a row and give them one month to get around to hearing one. If they don’t, I’ll be forced to place an ad on Craig’s List for another ego jerkoff buddy, comfortable enough in his own skin, to tickle someone else’s balls without throwing their back out while trying to suck off their own inflated sense of tempered emotive resistance in the process. Although, I’m not a complete poverty case. My old sales boss, who used to let me do new material at work in our office in One Penn Plaza above MSG got back to me already and said, “Too funny. You’ll make it, just keep on doing you. I think I’ll name my next comedy record Hardcore Hilarious after all. Thanks again for the stage time Larry. You’re a shining example of how standup mensch’s matter to.

Michael Kornbluth

Follow The Vaccine Body Count

If Obama could ball. Then, why did he ride the bench at an all Asian private school in Hawaii?

I wanted to marry my wife in her native homeland of Australia. Mom says, “Australia is a long flight from New York. And your father doesn’t love you that much.”

Later, I console my wife and say, “Assuming we have a boy one day, we can hire Crocodile Dundee for the circumcision. Just so we can hear a room full of Jews say, “Now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.”

US troops are being denied earned leave without getting their vaccination 1st. On the upside, less Navy servicemen will get pricked by the barebacking ghost of Allen Ginsburg during Fleet Week. Holla, thank you very much.



The Indian Health Ambassador and former comedian gets his COVID vaccine live on TV to show everyone how safe it is and dies 2 days later. I hope the former comic is reincarnated as anal warts inside Dr. Fauci’s hell hole colon.

The Indian comedian should’ve stuck to killing with arranged marriage material instead. Former Indian comedian says, “It’s easier to get your wife into anal if you’re pushed into marrying one caste beneath you. Holla, thank you very much.”

Dr. Cole says we’ve seen more deaths from the COVID shot than all vaccines in the last 20 years combined, adding, “Morally just Wuhan Lab assistants have longer shelf lives after interview spots with Tucker Carlson.”

Dr. Cole, another outspoken critic about the ineffective practice of lockdowns also says since the dawn of man, “We’ve never quarantined the well.” Adding, “Look how well Dave Chapelle turned out after his walkabout sabbatical in Africa, using only bush dirt weed to fight off killer Mosquitos the size of Aids quilt blankets.”

Vaccinated people still wearing a mask is like Cookie insisting Magic wear a rubber snuggling up to The Inside Guys on TNT.

The Sopranos finale would be better if Meadow got to play the prosecutor in the George Floyd case and in her closing statement state, “How did all lives matter become the new n word?” Holla, thank you very much.”

2 female college students got kicked out of Amherst College for not wearing a mask from a photograph taken on campus. When did liberal art colleges become no go zone areas for Muslim housewife property during Ramadan?

Bartender looks at my wife’s credit card during our sweaty sex period before we got married and says, “Duffy, like me.” I reply, “Why don’t you 2 open a bar together and live happily ever after?” Holla, thank you very much. 

I’m so tired of hearing the NY is coming back pitch. These days, Jews feel less welcome in New York City than critical BLM theories.

Michelle Obama says, “You want to hang out with us. Get your vaccine, gardeners from Honduras excluded. Just don’t Instagram any of Obama’s pot plants Pancho, got it. He likes to puff with Malia and her friends during summer break to feel like a fake news bi-racial Bob Marley.”

Michael Kornbluth

Shell Shocked Snappy

Wine Coolers, Jello Shots and reluctant repeat sips from your 1st can of Budweiser help melt teen shyness away. But pet Snapping Turtles aren’t 9th graders in junior high, who haven’t got into the puberty party yet either. At this point, Matilda a 12-year-old entrepreneur and inventor of a suction sticking party ball strobe light machine called Party Magic, was willing to blow some of her Kickstarter startup money on a Past Life Regression consultation with an Animal Communicator at a nearby Crystal Shop in Ridgefield, CT to get her new pet Snapping Turtle Snappy to come out of his shell already because changing his name from Waxy to Snappy wasn’t helping. More than anything, Matilda wanted to boogie board in Australia, her mama’s home country, along Mother’s Beach, 30 minutes north of Melbourne for her parents 10 year anniversary yet she didn’t feel safe in those Jelly Fish infested waters without a trustworthy, Snapping Turtle to ward off attacks by her side, knowing their preference for scarfing up electric, purple haze stingers.

The 70 something, bushy haired, frumpy, shawl strangled, Sedona sun wrinkled transplant, Animal Communicator, Talks With Toads, lounged out in her cubby size room office within a crystal shop in nearby Ridgefield, CT, and takes of her bi focal glasses to examine Snappy The Turtle more closely. Who Matilda reveals hiding in her old beat up backpack, knowing his tendency to fart uncontrollably, especially around strangers, which she considered a reason for why Snappy The Turtle’s head was hid in perpetual shame so often.  Talks With Toads says, “Matilda, over the phone you said, Snappy won’t come out of his shell around strangers.” Matilda says, “I’ve offered him Lobster Rolls from Stew Leonard’s, smoked Nova from Russ and Daughters, bought him the Tony Robbins audiobook boxset, which wasn’t cheap either, so I’m running out of options hêre. Our first Kornbluth family vacation to Australia is tomorrow and I don’t know what to do, because Snappy is my 2nd line of defense against all those Jelly Fish in Australia after the Jelly Fish nets which aren’t even available in the beaches in Bondi, and that’s where all the serious boogie board action happens anyway. My parents wanted to get married in Australia, where my mom is from originally yet my Grandma shot it down. She calls my dad and says, “Australia is a long trip from New York Scoops and your dad doesn’t love you that much.” Then, my dad made a compromise with my mom and says, “If we have boy one day, will hire Crocodile Dundee for the circumcision, just to hear a room of Jews say, “Now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.”

Talks With Toads spits out a deep, weighty laugh, opening up her throat chakra more than any downward dog pose ever could and says, “Does Snappy ever come out of his shell around your daddy or does he get intimidated by larger-than-life comedians to? I saw his performance at the Montreal Comedy Festival on YouTube and coughed up a lung in he process. He made such a strong, funny man impression the last time your family dropped by the crystal shop. And I don’t care for most stand-up comedy these days. Plus, how creepy is the comic Anthony Jeselnik, knowing that he considers psychic surveys on how many missing children they’ve seen through their Carrot Cards as being the height of God loving hilarity today?” Matilda says, “In Anthony Jeselnik’s defense, God commands his chosen people to forsake the counsel of psychics in Deuteronomy, but my dad told me is was Kosher to make an exception in Snappy The Turtle’s defense.”

Talks With Toads does her best to shrug off a smart-ass Jewess rubbing God’s law in her face with such effortless fluency and decides to plow forward with her Past Life Regression reading for Snappy The Turtle, so she can get back to watching some bestiality horse on man porn on her lunch break, which now can’t come soon enough. Talks With Toads grabs a sapphire crystal from a cramped, unorganized drawer, representing the entire kitchen sink of healing, past life reading gemstones known to mankind and places it on Snappy The Turtle’s shell. Talks With Toads says, “I see a Deadhead at Giant Stadium in a Soup Truck RV called Terrapin Soup, blowing high grade, 75 dollar an eighth weed into Snappy The Turtle’s face again and again as the live version of Scarlet Begonia’s from Cornell 77 blasts on the tape deck in the background. I stopped going to shows after I stopped smoking weed myself.”

Matilda says, “After my 2nd birthday, my Dad took me to a Dead Show in Bethel Woods, in upstate New York. I pointed at a dinged up looking Deadhead sucking down a Nitrous balloon and said, “Birthday.” And my dad says, “No, Burn Out Day.” Talks With Toads unleashes another full throaty laugh again and says, “Wait a minute. No, he can’t be.” Matilda’s interest in Talks With Toad’s Past Life Regression Reading has reached peak interest and says, “What do you see now? Is the Deadhead owner feeding Snappy The Turtle’s head with a sheet of acid or what?” Talks With Toads takes a deep breath, doing her best to conceal her startled state as she pulls back her long, tangly grey hair and utters in a whispery, barely audible tone, “The Deadhead owner is serving Snappy The Turtle’s family for dinner.”

Matilda jumps out of her chair in a bewildered state of dígust and yells, “I thought Deadheads ate Grilleđ Cheese Sandwiches after Dead shows when they got the munchies.” Talks With Toads says, “Munchies don’t happen when you’re on 4 tabs of acid dear. Hold on, I see a line of Deadheads around the parking lot in Giant Stadium waiting for this Terrapin Turtle Soup Truck to serve bowls of Turtle Soup to cure more endless bad trips on Hêrculean amounts of acid. The Merry Pranksters used to spike garbage cans full of fruit punch with Acid during 3-hour Dead jam sessions back in the day before you tripped over shit throughout the Cable Car lined streets of San Francisco. Eventually, the college dropout hippies who weren’t banking on replacing Santana anytime soon, became howling, starved lunatics, left with no other choice but to eat stray cats behind the dumpster at Mu Shu York’s. Soon after, a famed chef from New Orleans, Gumbo Greg, who went on to become the executive chef at the Philly Club for years before opening his own restaurant in North Beach, Chowder Panisse, gave Jerry Garcia the idea of serving one of his freaked out tripping groupies some Turtle Soup in their house on Haight Ashbury to cure her bad trip, after doing the same for Dr. John during Jazz Fest once after he crawled himself up into ball on stage, thinking, he’d turned into psychedelic, night tripping crawfish. Crawfish, you know Shrimp with more personality, similar to John Mayer teaming up with Grateful Dead and Company, injecting scruffy smooth with a dose of much needed personality.” Snappy The Turtle finally snaps out of his shell and yells, “Thanks for the flashback bitch.”

The End

Michael Kornbluth

Dad, Doesn’t Love You That Much

My Wife is from Victoria, in Australia originally. We wanted to get married there but my mom shot down the wish real fast. Mom calls.  “Son, Australia is a long flight from New York and your father doesn’t love you that much.”

My compromise for my wife was, “Babe, assuming we have a boy one day, instead of hiring a Rabbi for the kid’s circumcision, will hire Crocodile Dundee. Just so we can hear a roomful of Jews say, “Now that’s a knife, you can chop it all with that thing.”

But while we’re on the subject of circumcising private parts, Bruce Jenner wasn’t asexual married to Kris Jenner. But I’m positive Bruce Jenner was able to stay harder longer, after he convinced Kris to cut her hair shorter, so she could look more like a dolled-up Ralph Machio.

Michael Kornbluth