Biggest Prick In The East

Who’s the bigger prick? The boss who insists you get a vaccination shot for COVID when you’re working remote? Or the guy in charge who gave Jeffrey Toobin a promotion at the New Yorker, including his own safe space to jerk off at work? So, office security won’t yank him out of the bathroom stall, feet first, singing, “You don’t come around here no more.” Tom Petty lives, Challah, thank you very much.

Bill Gates’s daughter just got married. Say what you want about the depopulation genius, but the four eyed Hitler, who couldn’t grow out the stash if he tried, is a more conservative investor than you’d think. Why else would Warren Buffet’s BFF only have his clone wear the same sweater for interviews on MSNBC that makes vegan mayo stains disintegrate on impact? Why else, would old four eyes insist his daughter just order his daughter to play Coldplay on her voice activated Cortana speakers at her wedding, instead of paying 200 grand for Coldplay to sing the Scientist in person, when his better man Fauci would feel like a shortchanged, non-essential idol in comparison?

Bill Gates avoided a disaster in the making by refusing to pay Chris Martin in rolls of X Box stock. Otherwise, Chris Martin sings, “Fix You”. Dr. Gnocchi crawls on top of 3 booster seats at the wedding, but still can’t reach high enough to hang himself by his mask on top of the ceiling fan. Next, Coldplay plays, Yellow, so Mr. Hydroxychloroquine Fighter Cockblocker has second reservations about killing himself at Bill Gate’s daughter’s wedding in front of a former Lotus Notes sales rep turned freelance caterer. Then, Cold Play plays, “Don’t Panic”, and Fauci pees his pants in front of all the wedding guests after being confronted by the Ghost of Aids Past played by Freddie Mercury who jams a bat up his ass, engineered in Wuhan to give the million dollar elf man, a fatal case of full-blown Aids on the spot immune to Magic’s Johnson’s top secret HIV suppresser stash.

Dr. Gnocchi drops dead on the wedding dance floor, to “Oh What a Night.” And Freddie Mercury as the Ghost of Aids past says, “Another mass murdering scumbag bites the dust. Build back better AZT drugs next time, you Golden girls killing shit. The bat I jammed up your hell hole was crossbred with Rock Hudson’s DNA samples. If anyone deserves to be canceled, it’s this queen killing prick.

You’re my best friend now Freddie. Thanks for your service in my dream revenge sequence. Why should Tarantino have all the fun? He’s not the only fast talking perv, who can craft killer queen attacks of his own.

Michael Kornbluth

Dumb Drunk Daddy

I say, “Matilda, tell me about the Bath Bomb mama got you last night for
Hanukkah. She says, “It’s almond winter mint.” I say, “Sounds like a coffee drink
Michelle Obama strong armed Starbucks to make for Kwanza.”

I support defunding the United Nations. They only exist to give Hamas a veneer
of diplomatic stature like Kamala Harris in a Burka made from Ann Taylor.

The Left today has less use for proud practicing Jews than abortion on
demand because nobody would get smoochy with Booger Face Behar disciples without
a nappy mask on to puke up their pro-Antifa innards 1st.

Leftist Jews today reject everything today Jewish. Why else would they rush to
tat up their arms to rock the Lena Dunham arm flapper look for all it’s worth?
And you wonder why New York birth rates have sunk into China rat ruining
earth.

Mocking full of themselves, fully vaccinated dicks from my Generation X, who got an itchy esophagus from COVID, who still think Mr. Groper won by a hair, who had no problem with the Democrats using mail in voting to jack an election to hide their crimes
against humanity is more than kosher in my book.

They moan, “I can’t believe I got COVID. I’m vaccinated for Christ’s sake.
But you’re still the Mongoloid Moron for trusting your natural immunity over
Dr. Gnocchi, Obama Be Good and Nancy Denture Breath Pelos, who have less use
for lockdown-imposed rules than consciousness clearing confession.”

More pretentious moans of despair continue.

“How could I get COVID after being fully vaccinated?”

“Because you’re a glamorized lab rat, immune to self-corrective inspection like
your baby boomer resister parents, because insufferable, wholly destructive, baby
boomer arrogance never dies. And you’re the delusional, a plus narcissist who
thinks the real America kicked off Twitter already, gives a flying shit about your opinion’s inflated sense of self-worth since you’ve done dick to speak out against censorship and
silencing of any pro-self-defense sentiment since your jerkoff media pretended, they acted in good faith by calling a child rapist released from the loony bin in Kenosha as a peaceful, victimized protestor who only punctured his victim’s age of innocence with guided meditation music on Amazon music, indefensible pricks.”

Kurt Vonnegut was right; the US media is the one to blame for dividing everyone
into either a liberal or a conservative. Why can’t someone just launch a Burning
Mask Party already? That’s right, black men have been wearing a masks for
years according to Dave Chappelle. Yeah, Kamala, the Ugandan Giant wore one in character from 84 to 86, but that’s it. We all know Kamala Harris was a useless cackling
whore before she was assigned border visitation duty to see if the Donkey show is
keeping the dreamer alive in us all. Unmasking Kayne as an opportunistic showboat
fame whore didn’t require a tremendous leap of faith either.  So, Drake accused the infallible Kayne West of writing strictly secular rap music these days. Fucking own it Kayne. Don’t sling me shit like how Bound 2 You, was secular music, when you banged Kim on the sink, while getting some gunk on her mink. Unless you’re framing Kim Kardashian in
your eyes as top of the Porcupine Persian Puss chain, who could turn
your prick into wine to pour over Taylor Swift’s country ass white dress at the
MTV music awards because only Beyonce can get away with wearing ray of light white
after Labor Day in St. Barts.

I can’t wait to give up all forms of overpriced wine and IPAs for the year.
So, I could feel like a less bloated, blowhard hobbit hipster straining to
give any bangable woman sustained stiffage based on their Grateful Dead and Company
shirts and Dancing Bear masks since everyday became mask up Sharia Law appreciation
day.  Without those freedom loving deplorable Dead Heads making a peep about the fascist Democrats hacks in charge of these draconian policies otherwise. What a depressingly dreary, fake news patriots unmasking it’s been. But Hillary doesn’t have evil energy like Trump, Carlos Santana? But Hillary is the best-selling voodoo doll in Haiti, year after year. Plus, I don’t need to drop acid in this instance, to see who’s full of shit Carlos.

Did you know you can reverse all form of brain damage impairment by refraining from alcohol for one whole year? You experience improved memory and better
executive reasoning for a degenerate Jew like myself, with a long, shameful
history of alcoholic bumps into furniture in the middle of the night after
pissing himself while passed out in his daughter’s bedroom prior because he
possesses no feel for measured pounding pace of Kentucky bourbon on the 1st night of Hanukkah, that he’s only been planning for all year, whatsoever.

87,000 people die each year from Alcohol overdosing. I must have 87,000
lives then. Because I’ve drank enough bourbon one winter in my parent’s attic
with my wife to make Charles Bukowski feel like a lightweight pussy poet,
guilty of excessive hyperbole like Hitler’s claim to be Marc Chagall in the
making despite never leaving you with a magical dreamy, impressionistic
impression.

Hanukkah Challah Day Joke:

A Cardinal’s finishing line on altar boys next in line.

“It’s all holy meat juice to you kid.”

Lenny Bruce Lives.

Hannukah Challah Day, Challah.

My brother’s response to this joke was a plug for an old school Public Enemy
video. He says, “Despite your political affiliation. I know you can still appreciate
some old school hip hop.” I say, “Why, because Public Enemy predates the
Thugs Lives Matters Most protests during last year’s Summer of Love? I should still
love Public Enemy because the Jewish Forward insists on framing Professor Griff
as a “victim”, whose career was gunned down by the Jewish Mafia over his comments
about all the Jews controlling the slave trade at the height of Public Enemy’s
popularity despite Jews heading up the Holocaust being banned from land ownership
in Europe while being stripped of any incentive to love thyself as thy neighbor,
when you’re surrounded by nations of mini-Hitler’s mouseketeers.  Why would I listen to Public Enemy after my best friend’s mother claimed I looked like Elvis growing up as a kid? It feels good to be compared to rock royalty while your best friend’s mom drools at the prospect of unleashing your hound dog side inside of her for some totally worth it rib rattling, jail house bound rock of her own. Professor Griff is a fucking moron. Calling Jill
Biden, Dr. Biden, doesn’t make her any less of a lying, trashy, small-town ho, who
never met a brush she liked for Scarecrow Appreciation Month. Professor Griff
accused the Jews of controlling the entire drug trade to Rolling Stone. I’m positive
Frank Lucas would have an issue with that white supremacist blanketed assertion.
If you saw the movie American Gangster, you know Denzel’s character believes, “Whatever those dumb mooks can do to poison my community, I can do better. Just wait until the Saints of Newark comes out motherfucker.”

How does Farrakhan celebrate Holocaust Remembrance Day? Spray Jard Kushner’s
Twitter feed with nothing but termite emoji’s, from dawn till night, but throw
in the hashtag, but Natalie Portman is alright.

New theory behind my compressed nerve: Losing my nerve to offend LinkedIn by
posting more comedy records bound to keep me out of Corporate America forever.

Future father wisdom 1st time Dads can look forward to on text conversation threads from their friends in the same boat already.

Increased wiggle room can be a deflating experience.

Unlike Glue Guns, your sweaty sex period won’t stick.

No looking back once mama’s semi-tight snatch of yesteryear tears apart at
the seams.

You won’t know whether you’re floating in space or landing on an aircraft carrier
museum strip in Chelsea Piers, unable to achieve blast off without fantasizing about
new Bermuda Triangle’s to have your super soaker disappear in.

Give hell hole sex a chance, for a tighter topping experience all around.

2 kids later, Goose would rather spike Wilson half naked around other sweaty
slick Top Gun gunners, instead of taking another nosedive headfirst into Meg Ryan’s
sunny shine snatch. Because sex with Meg Ryan after 2 kids resembles playing musical
triangles in the high school band as you flail your metal rod stick against Tom
Hank’s romantic movie library collection stuffed inside.

Before you know it, your 10-year-old daughter gets breast buds. And you get
mad at your wife yelling, “Why haven’t yours sprouted yet.”

But you can’t get mad at your wife for converting a gingerbread house into
a tricked -out Hanukkah blue one with a Star of David out front for the 3rd
night of Hanukkah. The only thing missing on front door was a sign that said, “No
Liberal Jews allowed, who think Farrakhan’s admirers in Public Enemy are held back
from demonizing Jews any more than Deshawn Jackson only needing to be properly reeducated on Hitler.  You know, Obama’s most admired leader according to the Source Magazine. Obama would give Hitler 5 mics if he could. I’m not even exaggerating. Obama’s the one who loves Hitler. Obama wishes he was that organized. Mass extermination, of all his nosy pestering journalist critics, who dared to criticize his billion-dollar nuke time out deal with Iran would be a gas. Dumb Drunk Daddy, no more, no more. Aerosmith lives, Hanukah Challah Day, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Fly Nuts Trap

Jeff Goldblum explaining Chaos Theory to Jimmy Fallon. Humanizing Trumpy Poo on your show by rubbing his flop top hair like he’s the Great Dane you never had.”

Fallon gets defensive for once in his endlessly charmed, borderline edgeless, frictionless life.

Had no idea the bit would blow up in our face, when a real-life skinhead never emerged.

Michael Kornbluth

Sketches Of Ridgefield

The best thing about breastfeeding today is that you can’t blame low supplies on supply chain problems. Plus, you feel much less pain at the pump.

My wife The Boob Doctor, who works as a lactation consultant, sampled a speech on me last night about breastfeeding. When she said, “Were not in the business of starving babies.” I said, “Assuming, those mommies are modeled after Jessica Simpson. I don’t think my mom had one bottle leftover between her.”

Tried to go short shopping at Vans today. A checkered print of red shorts appealed to me, but then I thought, “You have too many grey hairs in your beard to pull of those shorts asshole.”

I’ve lost all patience with my daughter’s friends who don’t acknowledge my presence whenever I pick her up from camp. I say, “If Mazel hates her mom so much, she should stop acting like such a scrunchie face cunt in my presence, no offense.” Later, I try to act nicer and say, “Mazel just morphs into an uppity bitch in my presence when I pick you up from camp because she’s just pissed about having to part with the sweetest friend she doesn’t deserve to have.” Daughter says, “What do you expect Mazel to do in your presence daddy?” I say, “Dictate a thank note into her smartphone in front of me when I pick you up from camp in real time in front of all her counselors about why she’d turn into a Godless cum dumpster without the beautifying, anchoring influence that you bless her life with because you stem from my Do It All Dad Year Tree Trunk for starters. #Hang10Dad. Robert Schimmel lives. Challah, thank you very much.

Did you know that Jeff Bezos dumped his wife for a woman who used to be married to Hall of Fame Tight End Tony Gonzalez? I don’t care how big his dick pics are. Happy denting, AJAX Man.

Then, the lady at the bookstore in Ridgefield, CT finishes laughing and says, “Are you in our system?” And I say, “All of a sudden, I feel like a registered sex offender with Woody Allen’s autobiography in my hand. Did you know that Woody used to keep naked polaroids of a 9-year-old Soon-Yi stuffed into his top sock drawer? The only pic missing from his spank collection was the one of Soon-Yi crying on the cover of Time Life Magazine. I almost forgot, do you also have the book Comedy, Drama by Bob Odenkirk? Personally, my favorite Bob Odenkirk role was him playing Larry Sander’s agent on the Larry Sanders show when he wore his assholishness on a sleave. But it’s impossible to not think of my brother when I repeat the title Comedy, Drama, because he’ll do cocaine and Ambien at the same time. Next level sketchy lives. How indecisive can you be bro? You’re more indecisive than Jared Kushner holding up the salad bar line at the Bellagio. Actually, met Gary Shandling at an art show in Pasadena, when I was catering, working on my smile ready face, because growing up I didn’t have much muscle memory to flex from whatsoever. Gary Shandling said, “Keep writing and you’ll look like me.”

She says, “So did you keep writing?” And I said, “Yeah, I got my TV writing break with Vh1 Classic on America’s Hard 100 that was hosted by WWE star Chris Jericho. He wouldn’t touch the steroid shrinkage joke I wrote for him out of respect for Vince McMahon. He didn’t want to be Owen Hart without a safety net with no harness to pull him back from the point of no return. I’ve also recorded 113 comedy records since. John Lennon wished he was this productive during his stay-at-home dad years. My last comedy record, Crazy Stones after Lapping Losers was made in honor of Oliver Stone’s crazy stones, whose half Jewish by the way. Put another one on that board. You know your dad is a fake news hippie if he vehemently denies the CIA’s role in taking out JFK. Never visiting the Grand Canyon after living in Arizona for 10 years, doesn’t help bolster your case against being a fake news hippie dad, fake news hippie. I don’t care if your Bob Dylan station on Pandora suggests otherwise. Also, where are all the Philosophy books? Oh, their placed all the way at the bottom here at the bottom of the food chain where all their diplomas belong. I’m in no position to act more evolved secure after graduating from a top communication school with a stutter to become another schmuck in a headset IT recruiter out of college like the rest. I went to Ithaca college in upstate NY, otherwise known as Cornell’s retarded next-door neighbor. But I could suck down back-to-back to bingers and not manage to stutter every other 2 seconds. Wait a minute, 30 bucks for Bob Odenkirk’s Breaking Balls, you’ve got to me kidding me. I snorted crystal meth thinking it was cocaine once. 5 hours later after one line, I acted like an extra speedy Tony the Tiger, going, “This shit is great.” The come down was far from great. Later, I call the dude who gave me the bump from hell and say, “Dude that was really strong coke. I thought I was going to die in my own arms that night.” He said, “Dude that wasn’t coke, that was crystal meth. I thought you knew the difference.” And I said, “I didn’t realize you were conducting the Pepsi Challenge.” Eighties Don Draper lives if he didn’t die of lung cancer in the eighties. Have I mentioned my push to push my daughter into becoming a lesbian yet? Because she can’t die of Aids or get cervical cancer from HPV if you get the vaccine for it that actually works better than Russell Westbrook running the Triangle offense This way my Lesbian leaning daughter can take a licking and keep on ticking. I don’t have any business cards on me but just ask Alexa to play Michael Kornbluth if I’ve aroused your interesting in wanting to be stuffed with more totality of me.” Challah, thank you very much.

Book Lady says, “Vince Mcmahon is a nice man. One time I went to a restaurant in Darien, CT and he paid for everybody’s dinner.” I said, “He gave a touching homage to Andre The Giant in his doc on HBO, unlike bleeding heart Rob Reiner. Who insisted, Andre the Giant was wasted throughout the entire shooting of Princess of Pride. Great job, ruining any last connection to my age of innocence asshole. Billy Crystal’s ho hum commentary didn’t help, adding, “I couldn’t understand Andre as a one syllable grunt as the Sasquatch in the 6 million Dollar Man.” Fuck you, Billy Crystal. Your face looks like a rotten apple head who identifies as a dried-up Danish with a goatee with all funny man color stripped from your hallowed edgeless core for the past 15 years and counting. Rob Reiner adds, “Andre could barely catch Buttercup descending from the castle because his back muscle was mushier than a plate of brie left in the summer Provence sun. ” Book Lady says, “Keep writing, Totality Of Me, keep writing. Thank you, very, very much.”

Michael Kornbluth

Triple Crown Winners

Nothing Rotten

Giving up Adderall is a return to energy independence.

Calling Zelensky a Jew is like calling Annie Leibowitz a mensch.

Also, why is Annie Leibowitz taking pictures of Zelensky and his wife for Vouge magazine?

Was the Vanity Fair Hollywood issue too vain for Zelensky’s tastes?

Posing in the same magazine with Wes Anderson’s pocket watch collection from Louis Vuitton is where I draw the line Annie, no offense. Tell your sister Judy Gold, she’s a no talent hack for me, thanks.

Zelensky takes orders from Azov Nazi’s. He’s like George Soros with a better barber.

Trump’s the Anti-Christ, not your dad, Liz Cheney?

But you unlike your deathly dickish American Dad, you aim to please?

Also, doesn’t Jesus’ return from heaven to defeat the Anti-Christ in the Bible part 2?

So have some faith in the Jesus comeback story, won’t you, people.

Imagine Jesus returning and his only request is that we give up social media for a whole year.

Trump tweets on Truth Social.

Don’t worship false idols.

Sorry, I didn’t realize that former Trump supporters were tweeting that about Trump on Truth Social before giving up social media for Lent. In other words, fuck off already Trump, you left us for dead and push operation death speed with the same verve as Trump Vodka laced with killer doses of Fentanyl. Condemn the kill shot and post our bail already motherfucker or you’re rotten to the core like the rest. What’s the point in passing prison reform if you can’t even bail out your supporters who didn’t kill anything but the veneer of Q being your alter ego in the form of JFK Junior who you were destined to team up with to take out the Deep state which took his father out, who wanted to share our alien DNA stool staples of Gore Vidal with the Russians. Let Blow Hard One Mark Levin let you off nice and easy. And if Ronan Farrow is really Frank Sinatra’s kid, then why hasn’t Woody Allen woken up next to the head of Secretariat yet? The Great American Songbook lives, now eat my butt carrots Amy Barrett. You’re Mia Farrow with better husband selection, Challah. Thank you very much.

Supply Chain Solved

You want to solve our supply chain crisis? Require every dreamer crossing our border to work as a delivery driver for UPS for one year. It’s good paying union job, you get to wear shorts all day and in New York state they’re already given a license to vote anyway. Plus, UPS drivers similar to illegals are exempt from getting the clot shot, so they’ll be healthy enough to do more ballot stuffing for UPS during the mid-term election season. Plus, did you know that in New York State, you can be fined 250,000 dollars for using hate speech on illegal aliens? Such as, No Speak English? Whose translating these insults for Juan exactly? Now illegal immigrants flown into the New York on Jet Blue courtesy of the Democratic party, get a License to vote and a hate speech translator to bankrupt Apu at a bodega in Flushing. What a country, Yakov Smirnov lives, Challah. Thank you very much.  

Recess Passes Matter

Instead of giving criminals an endless supply of get out of jail free cards, which is what no bail laws are. We should institute a recess pass system that our teachers used to punish our bad behavior in elementary school growing up. Speak out in class, Recess Pass gets taken away. Place dog food on Beth’s desk. Take a Recess Pass away. Choke a cop on the subway because you feel like it. Take away a Recess Pass away. You get 5 per week from the state, which can be scanned from your phone. So, every time you can get a Recess Pass taken away it means, you get a point on your license. 5 points results in your medicinal weed card being permanently revoked in New York state. You want to talk buzz kill fellas. New Yorkers have been waiting for weed dispensaries since the dawn of time. But now you can’t access it because Latrel Sprewell’s kid choked out a cop’s white privilege despite him deserving it according to Thugs Lives Matter Most. Thugs start having panic attacks on the Subway, I can’t breathe motherfucker. I can’t go back to smoking that shit skunk weed on the street. Gummy Edibles don’t stink up my breath. I don’t want to share no blunt with your ass just out of the slammer, you monkey pox packing motherfucker.” Recess Passes Matter, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Last Licks Lasting

How do you fuck with your Atheist wife? Be serious about expressing your desire to adopt a kid with Down Syndrome. But they can die at 40 from cancer. Athletes are dying from the clot shot in their twenties now. So, 40 is the new 90 really babe. Plus, your username on the Peloton is Flowers and Babies. Shouldn’t all kids enveloped in our circle of love in our comedy estate home come up roses in your eyes? You work in the NICU checking for vital signs. All I check for is for retweets. You want me to prove I’m not an A Plus Narcissist and break the curse of my family tradition. Then this is it. Huey Lewis and the News live, Challah. Thank you very much. Although leave it to Uncle John, AKA Sir Snort A Lot to contaminate our air of holiness at home, the one time he offers our adopted son with Down Syndrome some blow and says, “You don’t always have to be down kid.” But who’s going to look after him? You still don’t have a job. He’ll help me sell my new gum invention Hop-O-Rama Chew. Who’s going to say no to a kid with Down Syndrome? What, I want to disrupt the job market for young adults with Down Syndrome. Most kids with Down Syndrome are highly creative. Plus, they possess highly developed senses of humor like Phil Rosenthal’s cousin in Somebody Feed Phil or the guy in Something About Mary. And who could resist our adopted kid with Down Syndrome going to door to door in Brooklyn selling Hop flavored gum to overweight Stay At Home hipster dads who identify more with Lena Dunham since she morphed into the Hunchback of Bushwick during Restaurant Week? We can call him Zevon Zappa Kornbluth, which gives him immediate hipster cred after he introduces himself and some immediate breathing room to pitch. I want to out Hipster the shit out of these guys. Door to door sales would do wonders for this kid’s self-esteem. At the same time, nobody is slamming a door on a kid’s face with Down Syndrome, especially if he’s blowing the biggest bubble, you’ve ever seen while holding up tape recorder that plays our pre-recorded radio jingle for Hop-O-Roma Chew. Blow your blues with away some Hop-O-Rama Chew. Our bubbles are easy to blow. Even kids with Down Syndrome can blow big bubbles while chewing on a daily nugget of wisdom wrapped inside each burst of bright-eyed flavor inside.  Hop-O-Rama Swami says, “Beer Bellies give self-love a bad name. And Sarah Palin is better than you. So, add some extra bounce to your step with some Hop-O-Rama Chew.”

“Also, your best friend Sara will feel like a more self-involved narcissist for only having one kid versus our 3 plus one adopted one with Down Syndrome. And our 4th kid being an adopted one with Down Syndrome would really piss my parents off. Just think of what a big deal they made about putting up a pool fence. But I don’t view a kid with Down Syndrome as an eye sore but as angel light and their laughs are the purest. Plus, when a kid with Down Syndrome smiles it could light up a youth hostel in a no-go zone area in Germany with no-WI Fi during the Chinese planted plague made in Wuhan delivered through remote controlled drone bats, next day delivery. Supply Chain problem solved because everyone will be dead. So, what difference does it make? Except that our best of 4 worlds family, that being all 4 kids, because were not family without them, will be able to bask in some angel light before the never-ending shit show goes up in flames. As we sing in a beautiful, truthfully tuneful harmony, “It’s the end of the world, and we know it, and I feel fine. Because Samuel needs a younger brother to look after. And denying him the opportunity to be the biggest hearted big brother ever would really blow more than being denied the chance to see if your mother would terminate her Nazi dog Heidi over a more playtime consideration with her grandchild with Down Syndrome. Will see how God blessed she’ll act in the face of our new kid with Down Syndrome who will do abortion jokes in my honor over Christmas. One kid only means your diaphragm is for walls after all Baba. Plus, how could I ever be sad in the presence of Dad? Funnier dad, happier baby. Thanks Dad. For giving me the confidence to do more than dig ditches for non-biodegradable masks at McDonald’s before the never-ending shit show goes up in flames. Burning Mask Party return, 121 comedy records later, Challah. Thanks for the laughs, Dad, very, very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Always Kosher

I think it was Socrates or Plato who said, “Happiness is fleeting pleasure.” Fleeting, disappearing pleasure for me is my kids losing interest in hang out time with daddy. This explains why my youngest son Chosen Curls Was Bound To Woo was busy at work drawing pictures of us hanging out together once I started bonding with his big sister over her new favorite show, Never Have I Ever, been a bigger fan of Johny Mac, he’s the narrator than I am now. Fleeting pleasure for Do It All Dad over here, host of the Do It All Dad Year Podcast, recently renamed Pause Daddy Podcast, funny fast stories, for you and me, is me losing interest in earning respectful impressiveness from my 3 adoring Koshertarian Comedian friends.



Now the kids are in a Delaware for the next 3 weeks while I do everything in my power to stop a decade long streak of co-dependent bitchy dependence on my wife and parents since my Stay At Home Comedian Dad journey began. Sure, I got to write some cool host intros for a couple of music video countdown specials that aired on Vh1 and VH1 Classic. Only to make my producer a Bruce Springsteen mix while doing my best to assure him soon after, “This doesn’t mean, I have a crush on you, Boss.”

Jokes aside, I rely on the kindness of others to feed my family, those others being my parents and wife. By feed, I mean those with the means to finance grocery shopping for my 3 Koshertarian comedian friends, that being my 3-fuss free, endlessly glowing, holy light time shining children.

They say man can’t eat live on bread alone. Well Daddy can’t eat the shit sandwich of shame for failing to earn bread for his family of 5 for the past 5 years without wanting the chance to rectify.

But applying for jobs doesn’t guarantee job interviews. Nor do job interviews result in immediate job offers soon after. Despite the Marketing Director at the Chef’s Warehouse nodding with respectful impressment after you referenced your 41 thousand page views on your WordPress blog. Marketing Director adds, “I saw that on your Writer Got Game Resume.” And I’m thinking, “At least, somebody is fucking reading it.”

But how do you cope with your mother resenting you making a yummy pesto mozzarella sandwich on bomb sesame loaf on her dime during her visit back east? How do you black out your mother-in-law calling you “pathetic”? How do you cope with a nurse wife who feels taken advantage of because you’ve been choking her too hard financially?

You become committed to becoming the best Koshertarian worshiping Comedian, who’s ever lived. Granted, Jerry Lewis, ate crab’s benedict, Woody Allen should’ve stuck to just eating Tuna Tartare at Elaine’s. And who gives a shit about what David Steinberg eats or what Paul Reiser orders at Nate and Al’s besides, “How was Hollywood ever mad crazy into you ever, So-So Special Sandwich number 5000?” Fine, Paul Reiser was mildly amusing in Bevery Hills Cop, but Gilbert Gottfrid funny he wasn’t. On the set of Beverly Hills Cop Gilbert Gottfrid says, “Paul, what’s the difference between The Long Island Lolita Amy Fisher and your comedy career? They both blow. Is Helen Hunt cute enough to be reformed Jewish? I can’t tell. If Helen Hunt is as good as it gets, I’m Lenny Bruce’s tailor in comedy heaven. Lenny says, “Easy with the needle Gilbert. You’re shakier than Eugene after cumming to the sound of his cousin’s shitting out Kreplach. And based on Albert Brook’s ballooning girth and highly developed sense of dark humor resulting from his father dying form a heart attack after killing at a roast of Lucile Ball prior, I don’t see the west coast Woody rocking the Koshertarian diet any more than a MAGA hat prop on the set of Curb Your Enthusiasm for episode 7, “Seinfeld Auctions A Porsche For Charity, Hope Half the Proceeds Went To Larry’s Kids.”

Again, how do you cope with being dependent on your wife’s sweat labor on her feet at the NICU while she checks for vital signs on blue faced newborns? When all you do is check for retweets? You shoot for perfect laugh lines on your Do It All Year Blog to recycle on your last and greatest comedy album, Watching Hacks Cry.

“I don’t like Snoop Dog claiming he culturally appropriated Ric Flair, so freely, during his 30 for 30, titled, “You’re A Boy and I’m Not.” Iceberg Slim was Pimp Of The Year for 6 years in a row at least and we got Ric Flair, 16-time World Champion. Don’t get your pigments twisted Dog. If you want to beat the man, don’t get bent over by Suge Knight in the can. No offense Snoop, but you don’t hear Ric Flair yelling, “Dog Fighting, woooh! That’s a MAGA country thing. Don’t be culturally appropriating our shit.” Watching Hacks Cry, Challah, Thank you very much.”

You cope with being a dependent by perfecting perfection in the kitchen with your heavily workshopped pesto ribbon pasta with Kosher air fried chicken thighs and sliced cherry tomatoes on top. And you grow closer to God and your 3 Koshertarian Comedian loving kids through the more “Yummy Dances”, you make. “What the hell is a Yummy Dance?”, my father says. Stop acting like your anything more than sheltered bum, my father adds in my mind. Glad you asked. Yummy Dances are standing ovations, curtain calls and victory laps in your dishes honor all combined into one as your 3 biggest fans in the universe run around the living room through the kitchen yelling, “Best Daddy ever.” That’s a Yummy Dance. It puts you in touch with the divine because God gives kids to only the lonely and this funny man giant is lonely no more. Watching Hacks Cry, Challah. Thank you very much.

Yummy Dances are why holiness rocks. Yummy Dances get you addicted to achieving such holy powered highs. But how do you cope with your son wanting to meet your old friends when they can’t be bothered to comment via text or state emotive love online about your 123 comedy records posted on LinkedIn to shake up the corporate controlled thought in the straight world? The same so-called friends of yesteryear who left for you dead. You decide to befriend Sean Lennon by sharing your book Controlling My Kids With Comedy, A Love Story or nudge him to check out your comedy record Laugh Yanker Love on SoundCloud, where you showcase some A plus stay at home dad material in his honor. “This is John Lennon 2 days into being a Stay At Home Dad. Choke on a fucking cucumber scone Paul. Even Primal Scream Therapy has its limitations mate. But Kate Spade wins the award for writing the most passive aggressive suicide note for her only daughter to read ever. Note reads, “It’s not your fault, Dad will explain.” Dad explains, “Explain what, how I was the one who was impossible to live with? What a bag of shit Kate. The other day my son says, “I prefer vaginas with no hair. I’ve seen mamas before. I add, “Big boobs compliment better.” Soon after, Sean Lennon is financing my recording sessions at Electric Lady Studio’s to release my box set of comedy records before I’m famous that will be 124 in total, titled Totality Of Me or Watching Hacks Cry. Holiness kills hackery, Challah. Thank you very much.

But isn’t holiness being a monk? It’s my year without beer and I’m almost 5 months in. So go woke yourself. Holiness kills hackery, Challah. Thank you very much. Isn’t holiness perfecting perfection? If God represents otherness holiness and the children from Isarael and Forrest Hills Queens are molded in his likeness, then shouldn’t I want to dress up my son like nature boy Ric Flair for Halloween because he already whips out his schmekel spot whenever he likes while I yell in catchphrase bliss, “Not Kosher Baby.” Holiness killing hackery, Challah. Thank you very much.

Mind of a yummy dance works like this. Your goal is similar to getting laughs at the local farm to pick up some fresh eggs, whenever another MILF hits on your youngest son, Chosen Curls Was Bound To Woo again, “Your son has such nice hair. When you get older, you’ll have 3 girlfriends to juggle.” And I’ll say, “If James Woods had this kid’s face, your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.” Laughter fills the air. Daddy kills again. So, the goal of a yummy dance similar to scoring another laugh is simple, Respectful Impressiveness, that’s your reward for not making any bread off your creatively jacked dome, relentlessly innovative might and shishy bitch dad leanings just yet. I know this is my 2nd time using the expression respectful impressiveness, but only Shakespeare can invent words like “thoughtless”? While Dice coins expressions such as I’ve got a friend, one of these “Trans-Testicles.” Personally, I’m against Drag Queen reading hour because fluorescent library lights aren’t flattering on anybody, especially on a poor man’s Marilyn Manson impersonator, no offense. One time my daughter asks, “Daddy was Shakespeare Trans because he dressed like girls in all his plays.” I say, “I don’t know if Shakespeare was Trans. But I think Kevin Spacey is gay about lunging at Othello in tights.” I sampled that joke on the character Billy from Six Feet Under at the local Target in Mount Kisco. The joke got a big laugh from Billy. He even slapped my outstretched hand that I placed there to receive a high five of approval in return. That’s a Yummy Dance. That’s holiness killing hackery. Watching hacks cry, Challah. Thank you very much.

Holiness killing hackery is best whenever I receive some help from my Koshertarian Comedian loving friends. I use my 1st born, Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth, AKA, Effortless Magic, AKA, 10 Homer Daily as my creative sounding board for all of my comedy record titles if her 2 younger brothers Art Show USA and Hardcore Hunga Rocks aren’t in the room with her 1st. Matilda says, “I like Year Of Dragon Lungs a bit better than Half Heeb Crazy. Sloppy Second Stories is a good title for your debut collection of flash fiction short stories, but I still love the original title, Waste of Height, Really Short Stories the best.” Art Show USA enters the room and interjects,” Am I going to design your record cover for Greatest One, Daddy? But all your records are great, so isn’t Greatest One, a tad one note redundant for your tastes?” Youngest son, Hardcore Hunga Rocks points an imaginary remote control in my direction and says, “Pause Daddy. I write the jokes for your comedy records, got it, Moron Son.” Daughter adds, “You should do that Greta Thunberg bit on Greatest One daddy where the dad freaks out on “burry brow”, your words not mine, for keeping his twin daughters up with eco-anxiety despite popping melatonin gummies like Nerds at 10 o’clock on school night. Because a doorman can’t keep a typhoon out of their townhouse duplex on the Upper West Side.”

But how do you cope with your kid outgrowing their broken-down rusty bikes on a hot August day while taking them out for a spin? Knowing you can’t afford to replace those bikes anytime soon because you’re so broke, your Hebrew name is under judicial review. You include them in the making magic time in the kitchen by sticking your son on pistachio de-shelling detail before making their farewell pesto bow tie pasta supreme before leaving for Delaware, which was a bust last time, because you decided to get funky fresh and add excessively bitter sages leaves to the basil, pistachio nut mix which was bad idea like Hunter making a crack cocaine in his bungalow at the Chateau Marmont because it forced him to give up blow for blow painting, which is a bigger cock tease than a lap dance with a no touch policy on Kid Rock’s yacht, called Harpooning The Most. You cope with being a dependent dad by savoring the sheer joy in all 3 of your children inhale what’s being hailed as your “best batch yet daddy.” While your youngest one comments in ultra-focused manner, “Too yummy for yummy dance”, before resuming his role as Belushi 2.0 in Koshertarian House. Holiness killing hackery, Challah. Thank you very much.

But how do you cope with having to dip into your daughter’s Tooth Fairy droppings, that she haphazardly left on the kitchen table before camp that your parents paid for again? So, you could pay for your kid’s slushies at 7/11 without having charge more fun time on the credit card before mommy gets paid again when your cellphone is due to get deactivated the day your family leaves for Delaware? You throw the Rodney Dangerfield No Respect CD on in the car your parents lease to use when they visit only to hear your eldest son says, “Daddy, your comedy records are way better than this.” Daughter adds, “Yeah, Daddy, Rodney just sounds boring depressing here. And his 1st joke was about being on the Tonight Show prior, so Rodney shouldn’t be so unenthralling from the start.” Respectful Impressment lives, Challah. Thank you very much. I add, “Jimmy Fallon’s writers hate him now. Because when Jimmy Fallon tried to rub Trump’s hair off, a real-life skinhead never emerged. But if I’m still not scared of Trump. Then, I’ll never be into my mother as much as Seth Meyer’s. Then again, I’m the sloppy second son for a reason. If Jimmy Kimmel cares so much about the environment, then why is he so wasteful by only using Smart Water for some post show bong hits because his gal pal Jennifer Aniston hooks him up in bulk? At the same time Smart Water adds bounce to your step. All of a sudden, you feel like Jennifer Anniston on the rebound. Our state of the union is like Colbert’s handle on funny these days, shaky. It’s too bad Bill O Reilly is no longer important enough to impersonate. At least, O’Reilly gave Colbert gravitas before Comedy Central executives resigned Trever Noah for the foreseeable future. Hey Trever Noah, Conan Obrien wants his good luck maroon hoodie back from the Harvard Lampoon.” Holiness killing hackery, Challah. Thank you very much.

On the other hand, you might be thinking, “Shouldn’t you only focus on getting a decent paying job in Corporate America? Sure, but like Frank Zappa said, “Magic is what happens between the notes”, and nobody is stopping me from creating more magic time on my time between new job interviews on the horizon come rain or shine. Sinatra lives, Challah, thank you very much.



Well, more yummy dances and random hugs from my son behind can buy me some more holy time to shine.



When your son takes a bit out of your Koshertarian Wings with a homemade barbeque sauce that’s made with a pomegranate glaze and states with divine powered authority, “Always Kosher Daddy.” Holy time shines.

Getting fired up to please your favorite people in the universe is when holy time shines.

A man can’t live on bread alone, but he can by on laughs and yummy dances in between with a little help from his Koshertarian friends.

So, stop thinking children don’t appreciate extra effort.

Stop thinking aiming to please your children through cooking is antiquated fun.

Stop thinking your kids are a less worthy audience to impress.

Stop thinking that doing things for love alone don’t matter.

Stop thinking your life is fantastic without your kids adoring you in it.

Stop thinking kids are an impediment to middle aged fun.

Stop thinking kids don’t sense half-ass love from a mile away.

Stop thinking technology has zapped your kid’s ability to emote in your honor.

Stop thinking you can’t inspire your children to follow your lead, “Always Kosher Daddy.”

Holy shine time is holy bonding time.

And that’s as good as it gets.

Holy Shine Time shines on.

Watching Hacks Cry.

Lennon lives, Challah.

Thank you very much.



Michael Kornbluth

















Greatest Recession Nation

Broke man on campus interview.

Are you in college?

Yeah, how did you know?

The U Penn mask was a dead giveaway.

Plus, I’m conducting interviews outside the Wharton School of Business.

So, you’re a business major, I assume?

No, I major in gender fluid studies at Oberlin college and minor in films done to demonize whitey by Jordan Peele. I loved his last film Get Out Of My Dreams, Katy Perry. You’re not the added color I’m casting for.

So how does an Economics professor at the Wharton Business School define a Recession today?

Hunter giving up blow for blow painting because he can’t afford good blow anymore.

After President Poopy Pants told the Ukranian energy company to cut out giving Sir Snort a Lot 50 grand a week to push borscht as the new Kombucha.

Drug jokes aside, how would you explain a Recession to your nephew today?

Tocca Boca money won’t get you jack shit in Boca.

Fuck the Vanguard Index. The only thing the Vanguard Index mimics these days is Prince Harry’s depression. I shouldn’t make fun of mental health. Harry tried to kill himself. Harry hasn’t shaved in years.

So, fuck the Vanguard Index. In only DeSantis We Trust, Florida gotta to love it.

Invest in bitcoin, which is Tocca money to use in real life.

You can trade bitcoin for cash or gold teeth fillings from R. Kelly on the cheap.

Dark money rules everything around me, dollar, dollar bills, yah.

What, my nephew just had Wu Tang play his Bar Mitzvah party at Griffith Park in Silverlake?

Is Dave Chappelle still defending R. Kelly in his act these days?

Get off your R. Kelly’s dick already Breitbart.

He’s the black Elvis with weaker bladder control.

Or just the ask the Tooth Fairy for a Money Tree, assuming it’s not made in Wuhan, which is sprayed with Spike Proteins used designed to depress your immune system more than entry in the Dalla’s Buyers’ Club.

What, my nephew identifies with Harry Style’s pansexual leanings in the remake of Peter Pan called, Cock Blocking Puberty Blockers. So little boys never develop enough raging testosterone to fight off advances from Michael Jackson impersonators during Drag Queen Reading Hour once Fabiola calls in sick for the Monkey Pox. How would the King of Popping Cherries defend himself today? All the Beatles royalty points in the world, can’t buy me love?

So, buy a Money Tree, not made in Wuhan, which will definitely yield you more luck than the stock market these days. The 3-year return on the S&P is dropping faster than Meghan Mccain’s belly rolls while despanxing.

A recession is like breast reduction surgery.

It only causes more financial strain.

Because you have to buy your own drinks now.

Plus, your personal worth plummets because banking on your personality to net more angel seed money interest in your dog walking business was a losing bet that caused your next great depression.

Oh, yeah that’s it. You want to explain what a Recession is today on Seaseme Street?

Count Dracula can get count 13 reasons why were the Greatest Recession Nation.

Trump didn’t come up with the term Great Recession Nation we did. One.

Were the great recession nation because Jimmy Carter got his Mojo back which makes him feel smoother than sanding alphabet blocks for his grandchildren carved in Farsi.

Two.

Were the greatest recession nation because Al Gore is trying to be relevant again. Still, why don’t I sweat global warming? Because Al Gore’s speaking career since 2006 has cooled considerably. Three.

Were the greatest recession nation because it’s the great reset, you dumb, sheepish bitches. Klaus Schwab and his Nazi spawn overlords will ensure America becomes Placenta Smoothie Nation in no time, come hell or high water. Four.

Were the greatest recession nation because big tech doesn’t need multiple Talent Acquistion Managers to order in for Taco Tuesdays anymore. Five.

Were the greatest recession nation because deplorable oil riggers are forced to sell solar panels on commission only, which gives Death of A Salesman new life at the local playhouse in Odessa, Texas, once the Friday night lights experience another rolling blackout from relying on wind farms built on quicksand to power increased electricity demands. Opening the border for the next Santana garage band to emerge isn’t helping resolve their electric power demands either. Six.

Were the greatest recession nation because the Big Guy is getting his cut from the Ukraine while Zelensky poses for Glamour magazine with his wife in his finest olive-green shirt from the Gap in Boca Roton. Seven.

Were the greatest recession nation because Biden made shorting Banana Republic stock great again. You can’t even get a decent pair of docker shorts there anymore because of incessant supply chain issues, yada, yada, yada, Jap Breath. Eight.

Were a great recession nation because it takes 6 months to get a custom-made couch from Mexico delivered to your house to burn when you run out of oil money this winter, so the timing will be perfect really. Nine.

Were a great recession nation because Capitalism regains their leverage over your free time and doesn’t have to tolerate your pansy ass requests for remote work anymore. As if your children possess more magnetic potential than the land of free I-Phones if you manage to cross over our border without forgetting to say, “No, Papers, Senior. Democrats bueno, Republicans, Punta Holes. Joe Rogan meh.” 10.

Trumpy Poo didn’t coin Greatest Recession Nation. 11.

Trumpy Poo didn’t coin Greatest Recession Nation 12.

Trumpy Poo didn’t coin Greatest Recession Nation 13.

Only Republicans have bad creditability problems, comprende?

Greatest Recession Nation, Challah. Thanks for tanking the economy over an itchy esophagus to get Trumpy Poo out office because he would’ve schooled Greta Thunberg on Climate Change in Davos. Fracking actually reduces are carbon footprint Greta. Greta says, “So Neil Young is full of shit now.” Trump replies, “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So that much, you share in common babe.”

Above all else, I miss Trump’s relentless optimism and over the top salesmanship.

If he got Monkey Pox and HIV after the Deep State pricked him in his sleep to ensure he doesn’t run for reelection again. Trump would tweet on Truth Social the next morning, “Do I have HIV, yes? But my t-cell count numbers have never been stronger.”

Michael Kornbluth