COVID Babies

The only good thing about the never ending shit show post COVID is learning how to trim my own beard. Then again, I don’t see any relocated barbers from the Taliban sweating social distancing guidelines while using their heirloom machete to trim a little brain off the top.

Truckers in Australia are planning a strike to end this COVID driven tyranny that’s turned the land down under into a nanny police state mate. God, please inspire Stallone to reprise his role as a truck driver arm wrestler in Over The Top for a commercial on YouTube with his arch nemesis Bill Hurley where they join hands in solidarity in front of an American flag calling for American truckers to do the same. Assuming, they can guarantee Ashton Kutcher servicing them at trucker stops with the trucker hat turned backwards to make room for more big gulps of working class hero privilege. John Lennon lives, holla, thank you very much.

Biden pushing the COVID vaccine again on all of us poorly informed, unvaccinated people. Mr. Groper says, “Pfizer’s COVID vaccine just received FDA approval. You take their boner bills right? So, stop being so headstrong about the repeat prick every 6 months and suck it up buttercup. It’s big brother’s world now, you feckless cunts. You’ll need to double up on your Lipitor and blood thinner treatments after I give MAGA country cardiac arrest with more Taliban gift bags from Airforce One to hijack your next local school board meeting near you. You thought your kids wearing masks was a a suffocating inconvenience? Try Sharia sanctioned law by machetes and Russian confiscated AK-47’s motherfuckers.”

A reporter asking Biden how many Americans are left in Afghanistan.  How many cigarettes are in a pack of Camel smokes Joe, after Hunter’s gone through one eight ball too many? How many more aces do you have up your sleeve Cool Hand Luke? Fine, straight to the harder hitting questions then, how many Americans will meet their maker in Afghanistan Joe? Come on man, if Hunter was president, I’d expect him to blow off questions regarding dereliction of duty to snag more blow to get up for some more blow painting but not you Joe. If you’re such a good guy Joe, then why didn’t you tell Hunter to cut out creaming into his dead brother’s widow seconds after the cremation ensued? Fuck this job, I’m getting in shape to become a Peloton instructor, they don’t teach live classes anymore, so I won’t have to get the vaccine shot right? Did you know some Peloton instructors make up to 300 grand? No wonder why they’re so fucking happy riding bikes to such shitty Fleetwood music. You can’t be arrested for hate speech if you’re a Peloton instructor in London for leading a Cat Stevens artist series on Yom Kippur either. Imagine a Peloton instructor dropping dead from the COVID vaccine shot on a live feed. Would you keep riding through the pain of not pushing yourself to burn through those remaining 200 calories left to burn for the remainder of your leftover 10 minutes in motion? So, you could enjoy your beer after your Peloton ride guilt free, soon after? Yeah, me to.”

A groomsman at my wedding almost 11 years ago is about to have his 1st kid. I want to be more excited for him considering the circumstances, but at least he lives in Florida. So, he’ll never have to see his kid come off the bus with a mask on looking like Michael Jackson’s adopted kids on holiday in Bahrain. Plus, my groomsman bud voted for Trump to. So, I can see him pushing his future daughter into getting artificial insemination one day. Because he won’t like the idea of any penis ever entering his daughter. Then again, look how Hillary turned out. Still, how will COVID babies be taught about Kamala Harris in US history class down in Florida in 4 years exactly when she becomes President in 4 weeks? Teacher says, “They call her Pearl Necklace Harris for a reason folks. She’s actually part Indian, and part Jamaican. Her ancestors owned slaves in Bob Marley country. Plus, she was born in Canada. So she’s an all over the place, unhuggable cunt really. Who never had any business sitting her fat stanky ass in the White House Oval Office, until we the people took the power back and DeSantis killed off the rhinos by starting a brand new Burning Mask Party, which gives Trump a heart attack for not patenting that killer political party name to slap on schmatta looking hats sooner. Then, the Trucker’s union in America went on strike over forced mandate shots, brought our economy down to it’s knees, after a nationwide voting audit proved Dominion machines are more evil embedded than White House assertions of any stranded Americans wanting to stay in Afghanistan as hostages because they really want to nail their audition for Saw 5000. Then, the new age Nuremberg trials happened, which sent Fuck Face Fauci to Gitmo for funding and lying about being the least deserving of his mass murder participation trophy. After that, our truckers stormed into the White House with the other white hats and MAGA Patriots, including active and retired military at large and got that fake news black lives matter bitch trucking on a one way ticket to hell, that being a one way Greyhound bus ticket to Folsom Prison to work on a chain gang for a new doc by Oliver Stone called,  Kamala Is The New Black. The end, thank God. Oh yeah, Ivanka broke up with Jared and got herpes.”

I reached out to a high school bud about visiting one of our friends who just had his 1st kid at 45. He texts back, “I don’t think Dave will want us around a newborn with all that’s going on.” I said, “But the Taliban is coming, we’re still forced to wear masks in hospitals anyway and Sharia Law won. So, what difference does it make? Hillary Hammer Time Cankles lives, Challah, thank you very much.

What’s an appropriate gift for a COVID baby in Australia today? Pepper spray resistant swim goggles. Strollers equipped with Alexa powered COVID curfew reminders? Unless mommy wants to quarantine herself in penal colony detainments for COVID spurning cunts while her kid gets snatched up by child services for reckless endangerment because the COVID God’s of law and order are batshit Pelosi crazy.

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