Tag: canada

The Jewish Canadian Rapper Conspiracy Theorist

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, family, fiction

Chosen, a 28-year-old black Jewish Canadian Rapper Conspiracy Theorist, required a COVID vaccine stamp on his passport for an upcoming summer tour in the US after sending Kayne West a demo tape with banging, killer rap songs such as ‘Me, My Mask and I’, ‘F The Mask Police’ and ‘Life After COVID’.

            The problem was, Canada had distributed the vaccine to only five percent of the Canuk population so far, enraging even the most stalwart, diehard, left-leaning government propagandist dirt rags of the far north. They now ran harassingly hurtful headlines about the anemic vaccine distribution numbers throughout Oh Canada such as “Operation Escargot Speed”, “Jagged Pill To Swallow” and “Flipping Out Over Florida” because Canadian caravans emerged, leading to a massive migration down south to score COVID vaccinations within swamp music country in Florida, to attain the digital proof of indoctrination necessary to work, travel, or take in a Toronto Raptors game again.

            This was despite Kwai Leonard taking his talents to LA to make mumblecore magic for the Duplass Brothers in a bunch of NBA short films for the Bleacher Report whenever he’d rest his nagging quads again.  

            Chosen, the Canadian Rapper Conspiracy Theorist, prided himself on being a funnier, less sadistically creepy Eminem. At the same time, he’d write record reviews and mail them to editors at the Source in LA, the hip hop Rolling Stone, for his own self-published rap debut album under COVID house arrest in Canada titled “Cosmic Chosen Perfectionists” in true cosmic-chosen perfectionist style while also proving that Kayne West didn’t have a monopoly on highly stylized, ego-topping, art rock God rap, either.

             Chosen would push album review lines in his honor to editors at the Source, such as, “Please don’t compare me to Drake for a fake news black Jewish rapper’s sake.  

            “I come from a line of hilarious Jewish rappers like Ad-Rock from the Beastie Boys, unlike fake news-persecuted Chuck D on Anthrax’s Bring The Noise.

            Chosen, the Canadian Rapper Conspiracy Theorist, had zero love for Good Wille Hoodie at Facebook for banning his budding fan page for so-called hate speech violations after dissing some of his primo targets in his rap such as Good Will Hoodie at Facebook, ANTIFA, Michelle Obama, Lebron James, and King of the Persecution Complex and Minnesota congressional rep Baby Face Omar for her support of the BDS movement against Israel, and for referring to death of Amy Winehouse on Twitter as, “Something happened, to a beehive-sporting, horn-hiding, satanic bitch who exploited the great Palestinian Songbook for all it was worth.”

            Chosen got banned from LinkedIn, after getting banned from Facebook and Twitter, for calling Farrakhan a “Black supremacist who trolled Elie Wiesel on Holocaust Remembrance Day with termite emojis from dawn till night,” although what resulted in Chosen’s permanent suspension from LinkedIn was a truth bomb video link targeting the world’s largest resume database service when he did this gem-sparkling bit, “This is my impersonation of Dr. Dre discussing the recent merger of Microsoft with LinkedIn with his former protégé Eminem. Hey, Slim, Microsoft paid 4.5 billion for LinkedIn. Eminem says, “Wordddddddddddddddd, LinkedIn is lamer than ever yoh.”

            Then Chosen adds, “Eminem calls Trump Hitler, but he lifted the lifetime ban on Jewish membership when he bought Mara-A-Lago, Slim-On-Facts Shady.”

            Never getting enough of his punch-heavy, punctuated prose, Chosen goes in for the retaliatory kill against all the Trump-obsessed Twitter twats and states, “Tell me why I should care about Snoop Dogg’s political opinions, again? His brain hovers a notch below porn hood hell.            “Although I’ll still drink Old E, if it’s ice cold, at an AVN convention in Vegas. Party, Old E: you know Snoop Dogg’s Ho sprayer of choice from back in the day.

            “This was before Magic made HIV disappear, feeling exceptionally spry and swell for being an early-stage investor in Dell.

            “Trump is the Anti-Christ. But in the Bible, Part 2, Jesus defeats the Anti-Christ. So, have some faith in the Jesus comeback story, won’t you people?

            “I actually had to Google Anti-Christ. At the time, I thought, “that’s what Pig Vomit calls Howard Stern in Private Parts before he became weird, weak, woke Howard. So, how bad could the Anti-Christ be, holla, thank you very much.”

            Now Chosen was about to hop into his Toronto stripper girlfriend’s Porsche SUV. Her name was Cayenne, like the ride before their desperate dash across the border to score her some much-needed stripper work in Miami and much-needed vaccinations to keep their careers and balling lifestyle afloat.

            As Cayenne, a part-Haitian, part-French, striking, six-foot stunner hailing from the sultry Big Easy, pulls her champagne room-spewing ride out of Chosen’s driveway, she stops the car and says, “I don’t want to end up in a COVID Canadian jail, Chosen. How are we going to get past customs without showing them our vaccination IDs, Chosen?

            “I know you’re the best of the Beastie Boys all wrapped into one and are blessed with the funny Jew bone, capable of spitting out rhymes at will as if you were born to be in the perpetual zone.

            “But there’s only one Moses, babe, and I don’t see the Lord playing any part in getting the Canadian border patrol to part with their motion-sensing technology on your behalf.”

            Chosen takes in his stripper-scrumptious beauty, looking as if he could make love to her until his life blaster snaps in two, and says, “Stop talking crazy, Cayenne. We’re bound to Kayne, now, bitch. Plus, once I get that money on tour with Kayne, big tech and the Canadian mask police can’t tell me nothing.

            “Worst case scenario: I get arrested, record a new album in prison like Little Wayne, and Kayne West makes a trade for me in three years when he becomes President for Jim Carey, after he paints himself as a Chicago Rapper Conspiracist like the rest.

Michael Kornbluth

The Masturbator Equalizer

by doitalldadyear, posted in art, education, Parenting

“Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.”

Salvador Dali

“Money equals middle finger power”, is what my Dad always told me growing up in our quaint yet artistically loaded Comedy Grant House 50 minutes North of Manhattan within the bucolic, historically tiny village of Croton Falls, famous for being the birthplace of my dear dada’s famous catchphrase, “Can I get a holla for some Challah?”, on his Do It All Dad podcast that ultimately got him a recording label deal to produce comedy record 100 Too Tall Jew, on Blessed Records and the rest is comedy gold machine making history. Personally, I preferred the comedy record title, Birds Eye View Bitches, but Daddy thought that it was tad long winded even for Bob Dylan’s tastes. At the Montreal Comedy Festival Daddy got big laughs when he said, ‘”Sorry pops, but when you live in Arizona for a decade and counting and still haven’t visited the Grand Canyon, you’re a fake news hippy. I don’t care if your Bob Dylan station on Pandora suggest otherwise.

Still, growing up Papa, my grandfather, nicknamed my daddy, Waste of Height because my father is a 6’4 Jewish New Yorker, who’s only highlight when playing Varsity basketball senior year was scoring 10 points against an all-Japanese team, which isn’t hard when the opposing players thought the pick and roll, mean their choice of fish. Now, my dad was being billed by Rolling Stone as Killer Set Kornbluth, while Variety magazine hailed him as the new giant of late night after replacing Bill Maher with a new talk show called Seriously Clowning. So, at this point in his life, my dad had every right to look down on any soul sucker dream detractor who tried to make him feel like a delusional, crazy man narcissist for pursing A plus comedic glory with a middle finger power mansion located at the highest point in Bel Air next to Jerry’s Lewi’s old school crib. So, the shelf life behind papa’s degrading nickname, Waste of Height, in relation to his 1st born blossoming son, no thanks to his encouraged direction had gone sailing, Dean Martin, lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

But daddy is what you would call a late bloomer, who didn’t start tasting big deal success till his late forties, combining that with a sexless marriage, with a man who is far from straight, on top of his mom wanting him to sling other’s people’s garbage instead of his own A plus gemry jokes for a living one day, combined with in-laws who force fed Eucharist on his Jew blood tainted kids behind his back, combined with zero creative collaborators outside of his own children during his 5 year journey into the wilderness while kicking is decade long addiction to Adderall for good, resulted in creating a tsunami of resentment fueled rage that almost burnt out what love spreader light that existed left in my dear dada’s endlessly beautifying, beyond spiritualized projecting soul, before it was too late.  Because of that, Daddy did everything in his power to ensure I established moonbeam blast shot goals early as possible compared to his mother urging her “artist son”, to settle and shoot for shit by chucking the joke writing career all together and become a full-time garbage man like Magic Johnson’s father in Lansing, Michigan. Obviously, Magic Johnson dad’s is a stellar example of being a God loving, do it all dad done good. Still, Magic’s dad also slung other’s people’s trash, so his son wouldn’t have to, similar to Papa schlepping over the George Washington Bridge for 25 years only to get nickeled and dimed by the likes of Potomka Pickles while working as VP of Sales for a plastics and glass company in Union, New Jersey, otherwise known as the Swamp Thing State, so his 1st born wouldn’t have to follow in his steps and blaze a new trail of funny man innovation to derive prideful enrichment of some kind on his own.

But what really pissed off my dad was Papa resisting the notion that I had genius potential in me because his waste of height son was too much a mongoloid moron in his eyes to birth such a star powered, out of this world seedling capable of moving millions with my own powers of imagination, poetic lift and storytelling powered song. Daddy went to Ithaca College, which he derided as Cornell’s retarded next door neighbor. But he graduated from the distinguished Roy H. Park School of Communications, so he could suck down some bingers of extra strong Tompkin’s country outdoor weed and avoid stuttering every other 2 seconds. I loved the idea of going to Columbia growing up, yet Daddy viewed Manhattan as yesterday’s news and planted the idea of me attending Williams University in Massachusetts instead, because former owner of the Yankees George Steinbrenner, otherwise known as the Boss, was a famous alumnus and larger than life NY bred personalities like George Steinbrenner don’t get any big more time than that. Plus, Daddy loved the standup comedian Jim Norton who claimed Boston woman were the best to slay with. Also, at Uncle John’s wedding, AKA, Sir Snort a Lot, Daddy said, “God gave my younger brother more second shots at respectable redemption than what George Steinbrenner gave Steve Howe”, which got goonish at the time. Plus, I remember my dad driving us to the Manhattan to go skating at 30 Rock once for my birthday and he points out the new Yankee stadium off the Deegan and says, “Look Matilda, the new Yankee Stadium, the house that gentrification built.” I knew all about Reggie Jackson otherwise known as Mr. October, who hit not one but 3 first pitch baseball homers in 1979 to clinch the World Series for the Yankees at the original Yankee stadium, otherwise known as the house, that Ruth built. I also knew that Babe Ruth had the most homers during his day but had the most strike outs to, because there was nothing half ass about the Babe who went down swinging, coming through in the clutch with his back against the wall like the great Messier, Derek Jeter, Andy Petite, Eli Manning and Frank Sinatra all the way. Daddy imparted the lesson of why New Yorker’s have big time egos for a reason. When Daddy actually contemplated moving our family to Texas during year 2 of COVID, I said, “Daddy, how many great comedians are from Texas? Daddy said, “Bill Hicks and Sam Kinson.” I say, “Bill Hicks only made me laugh once. And Sam Kinson had one good comedy album from start to finish that was pure standup without the cheesy Wild Thing cover song on it, that’s it. Now, name me star comedians from New York? Daddy says “Rodney Dangerfield, Andrew Dice Clay, Lenny Bruce, Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Greg Giraldo, Joan Rivers, George Carlin. Have I mentioned myself yet? Alright you’re right, Texan comedians suck compared to native New Yorkers, Joe Rogan included.”

For some time, I just wanted to be a singer and write my own songs, singing in pubs like Amy Winehouse without developing the heroin addition, yet my dad insisted I become an A Plus student and accept no other goal acceptable, so he could boast to his new comedy manager and rapper friends in South Africa, where his new record label was located, that his daughter went to Williams College, which rocks the old world King Solmon Royal purple. And my Do It All Dad thought the deep purple look exuded an edgy deep suave vibe similar to Jimmy Hendrix’s head tripping beanbag within the mixing room at Electric Lady Land studios in Manhattan. Daddy also had a black and white picture of famed writer director Bill Wilder in his old office where the famed writer, director of Ace In The Hole and Fortune’s Cookie, was marching in his office with his talking stick of sorts as his famed screenwriter partner Charles Brackett is on the writer’s  couch in letting him go long again, who is another Williams alum that helped co-write Sunset Blvd, which is good work if you can get it.  The other line Daddy would always pound into my cranium growing up was from Stephen Sondheim, which is, “God is in the details”, and the famous Broadway composer lyrist graduated from Williams to, so dumb, dumb burn outs didn’t even bother to apply. Reality is, I almost never got into Williams College nor ended up becoming the female Carl Jung of my day post COVID damage done after graduating Magna Cum Laude after triple majoring in English, Psychology and Philosophy, achieving the trifecta of liberal arts lunacy, I know. But believe it or not, my fate at William’s became sealed, not because of my college essay where I insist Carl Sagen was mothered by a starless atheist cunt who gave Booger face Behar on the View a whiff of semi-respectability in comparison for a change when she asked Don Lemon why he was nothing more than another race war inciting scumbag like Jussie Smollett minus the SAG card after she got red pilled by Russell Brand from turning her on to the Do It All Dad Year Podcast during bi-sexual pride appreciate month, I think. Actually, pursuing the harder, less shit laden path started by Daddy posting an ad on Craig’s List for a jerk buddy in search of more than a friend.  

“Why did I post an ad for a jerk buddy on Craig’s List? Because I thought it was healthy alternative to laughing at my own material on the couch after my daughter was tucked in, before breaking up with my wife off 11 years, again and again”, A 45-Year-Old divorced Comedian says to his chesty, red headed, Psychologist who was an English and Psychology major at Willaims herself. Mara Weitzman, the Psychologist from Williams says, “What if I jerk off your ego instead of some random stranger on Craig’s List, who would give Jim Norton the creeps?” Do It All Dad, now a divorced still struggling comedian, living on the couch of his Film Grip bud in Ridgefield, CT who wants to be the Bill Graham of Death Metal festivals in Upstate New York one day, says, “Does my health insurance cover that added expenditure on my behalf?  Psychologist Mara Weitzman says, “Remember, the time you talked about that 1st hand job you got from Carolyn Verdichio, in Cotswold Park, which you nicknamed Actionless Park in your bit at the Montreal Comedy about how you’re no gentle giant or else why would you insist on staying home to ignore your kid for the privilege of writing more jokes while choking your wife too hard financially, again and again? You described your 1st hand job as a throbbing extension of your brutishly rough personality, to the point where she almost skinned your pussy wrecker rearranger alive, while your jeans kicked wildly in the mud like a hardheaded hog in heat. Well, what if we reenact the moment right now? I played the steel guitar growing up in Plano Texas, so I’ve got stronger hands that most. Let me if see if I can yank out that rough side out of you for good. I’ll even put in a good word for your daughter at the Williams College during admissions season. Do It All Dad drops his pants and says, “I don’t feel like such a self-centric jerkoff anymore. Mara Weitzman, you’re the only masturbator equalizer for me. Now rip off that top and start jerking it like its 1999.  I’ll give those busty beauties a liberal load to boast about it when you pump up my long-term endowment potential to your fellow alum members after I blow you away with a blast of teen spirit of my own. Kurt Cobain lives, Challah. Mara screams in extreme anticipatory ecstasy, “Nirvana, come reign on me.” Minutes later, Psychologist Mara Weitzman buttons up her top and puts her murky stained glasses back on and says, “See you next Tuesday Do It All Dad. Williams College will be lucky to have your daughter attend next fall, if she follows after your money blasting footsteps. Thank you, very, very much.”

Michael Kornbluth

Double Down Winners

by doitalldadyear, posted in comedy, entertainment, family

In Scottsdale, Arizona waiting for a walk sign with my 3 kids. A guy tire’s of waiting for the sign and crosses the street in a NY minute. I say, “An old school New Yorker spreading his wings.” And a group behind us laughs long time. Double Down Winners, Challah, thank you very much.

Sick of hearing boring, older men complain about my Chatter Teeth Son. Funnier dad, happier baby. Get over it already, blah breathed boomer. Double Down Winners, Challah, Thank you very much.

Chatter Teeth Son sets off the metal detector at the airport, despite being dressed like the Van Halen Angel baby for Easter. I yell, “All Metal Baby.” He was sucking down Scorpion lollipops for breakfast before Ozzy bit off bat heads. Ozzy felt the need to one up All Metal Baby after Winds of Change broke big after the Berlin Wall came down.” Double Down Winners, Challah, thank you very much.

But if you really want to feel forever young, hang out at an Italian Bakery in Sommers, NY on a Friday afternoon. I don’t want to call it the Fountain of Youth, but my number won’t be called for another century compared to their Great Godmother clientele, which gave the atmosphere of depressive hovering death at Walmart a good name. Imagine Kay telling Michael in the Godfather about aborting their Hermaphrodite son. “I killed off your precious Sicilian seed Michael. Forget the dream of any of future Jamie Lee Curtis clones to trade places with an Italian Tony Curtis 2.0 after you ordered a hit on Chaz Bono’s reproductive rights, Michael.”

Son picks up corn holders in front of grandpa and says, “I’m Predator.” Pops gets jealous. I say, “Why aren’t you still laughing dad?” He said, “I’m just tired.” I said, “Tired of what, being an asshole?”

Why is Lebron James in a doc about Ken Griffy Junior? Even Junior knew about personality limitations and stuck to smiling on Wheaties Boxes and Upper Deck Trading Cards, when he wasn’t breaking wind with Pops in the dugout while exuding a more carefree edge in Seattle, pre-Antifa apartheid, because back then a young Junior was more into Fresh Prince than Soundgarden.

I think the real assholes on both sides of the cultural divide are those most liberal in dispersing their weighty opinions, especially when they weren’t solicited in the 1st place. I make a comment about my 11-year-old daughter wanting to become a professional singer who could write her own songs and even pen hit Broadway plays like a female Neil Simon one day. Dad says, “But how can she do that, when she can’t even sing?” I say, “How would you know? You book less face time with your granddaughter than Hunter does with his Baby Mama during Easter on Zoom.” While the stripper baby mama says to her lawyer, “Social distancing my ass, Mr. Groper can sniff Jill’s scarecrow hair during the next egg hunt on the Biden Delaware beachfront estate for a change.”

Only my mom can make me like Putin again. Visting in Arizona for Spring Break. And mom says, “You know, who’s small, Putin.” I said, “Then, why hasn’t Scranton Joe threatened to take him out in the school yard in Siberia yet Ma?” Oh, yeah, Biden is morally compromised because a Ukranian energy company paid his son, Sir Snort A Lot, 50 grand a week in the form of a political kickback to push borscht as the new Kombucha.”

Arizona isn’t off the list all together if Russia decides to spare the Walmart in Scottsdale, Arizona in the event of Nuclear Holocaust. I got the Metalica Black album for 5 bucks for Christ’s sake. If killer deals like that can’t usher a new era of peaceful goodwill toward capitalistic titans of American retail stores, I don’t know what will.

Daughter asks, “Daddy, who’s Moses? I say, ” A stuttering Jew, who came through.”

Son asks, “What does the Pope do? I say, “Play musical chairs with pedophiles.”

United Nation condemnations are more useless than fishnet leggings on Jill Biden.

Their appeal to the greater good is far past their expiration dates and spotty at best.

Give drug addicts credit, they know how to milk the pity bullshit card for all its worth.

Younger brother who just got divorced tells my mom, “He’s spending his time alone watching documentaries on National Parks on Netflix these days?” I said, “Is that what he’s claiming to do in his down time these days ma? I guess that’s how he got the idea of John Stewart running for President of Action Park if the Sierra Club excludes him for never urging Comedy Central to fire his successor for being a serially unfunny, wannabe Paul Mooney in a hoodie.”

More white privilege problems, Son. It’s hard to not feel like the sloppy second son, when your parents don’t think your good enough to drink from the fine crystal for Passover because you used to support Trumpy Poo on your podcast for free. Plus, you refuse to expose your kids to ESPN since all major sports teams mandated the clot shots, supported athletes taking the knee and kicking Nazi destroyers in nuts to protest no good thugs resisting arrest, turning their lives around like Pookie in New Jack City, not.

And claiming Obama’s economy was the one responsible for Dow Jones highs, is like claiming Nino Brown from New Jack City got Pookie off crack and welfare.

How can they make a Michael Jackson musical? Is the King of popping cherries in any scenes with his old Hollywood Hills neighbor Marlon Brandon still in his shrink character from Don Juan Demarco? Brando says, “Just because it happened on the Neverland Ranch, doesn’t mean it never happened Michael.”

The Michael Jackson musical is being staged in the Neil Simon theatre on Broadway no less. Can you a picture of modern-day remake of Lost in Yonkers by Neil Simon commenting on the very staging of this musical in the Neil Simon theatre. Little Jewish kid Jerome the 3rd, says, “Today, Yonkers is black as shit up in here, but the line waiting outside the Neil Simon Theatre to audition for the lead of Michael Jackson, not so much. I’m just curious. If the King of Popping Cherries were still alive, how would he defend himself against all his Neverland accusers on HBO today? “Would The King of Pop say, “All the Beatles royalty points in the world can’t buy me love.”

You can’t be in support of underage sex trafficking if similar to Bob Kraft, you only request happy enders who weren’t yanked off the boat yesterday. Double Downer Winners, Challah. Thank you very much.

Finally, gave up drinking beer last summer. I couldn’t live with myself anymore, spending so much time, hungover, recycling, endless reminders of my lushy littered past, as entire Rocky Marathons on AMC passed me by.

How pathetic is the Electric car Pitch? It’s better for the environment. But COVID 19 masks will take longer to decompose in the Pacific than Nany Denture Breath Pelosi past Easter.

Elon Musk, Gates and Al Gore to a Gastro Pub Bar. Gates orders a Beyond Meat Burger. Gore orders a Klondike Bar and Musk orders, “A Flaming Nazi?” Gen X Bartender says,”
“What’s a Flaming Nazi?” Musk says, “Justin Trudeau on holiday with Klaus Schwab in Davos whenever they hook up with the cast and crew from Killing Zoe after hours for shits and giggles.” Gates said, “I thought a Flaming Nazi was any fake news straight man caught driving a Telsa after the car battery exploded for accelerating from 0 to 60 into the back of a tree trunk next to Eddie Murphy’s tinted out Range Rover in West Hollywood, my bad.”

How do you stop the next pandemic? Use the RICO act and strip George Soros of all assets next time Gates and Dr. Gnocchi urge the Nazi youth round them upper to release the Franken Bat on MAGA country because the Chinese weren’t making enough Yuhan money on NBA ball gags made in China yet? Gotta dream Dave. Carlito’s Way lives, Challah, thank you very much.

I tell my daughter about how Bill Gates has done Ted Talks on the importance of “depopulation.” 10-year-old daughter says, “So, by depopulation, you mean murder.” I say, “One mass media-controlled sheep at time due the COVID 19 jab, that’s correct. If William Blake were alive today to look into Bill Gates soul on acid or not, all Blake would see is infinite darkness. Think of a 4 -eyed black hole drenched in a yellow cashmere sweater made in Wuhan, with glops of vegan mayo stains that’s Devil spawn spewing’s from Colbert after jamming a Howdy Doody up his ass to get in the mood. You should’ve seen the way Colbert drooled over John Podesta on his Late-Night show, which is twice as deprived perverse because those DNC funding walls showcase enough pedo installation artwork to make Marilyn Manson blush.”

I broke my Kosher diet because a Jewish orthodox woman at the Phoenix Airport, sporting a Happy Pesach Hoodie acted repulsed, after I pitched her my well-reviewed, self-published book, The Great American Jew Novel. She said, “I’m on vacation and work in academia.” I said, “But I bet you found the moral strength to ignore your better judgement and vote for Mr. Groper. Despite, a Rabbi calling him a liar for claiming he visited The Tree of Life, after the massacre there when Trumpy Poo was President. ” The same Rabbi adds, “I’ve never met Joe Biden in my life. Does it look I spend much time at Ben & Jerry’s these days? What’s Ben and Jerry’s latest flavor in honor of the oppressed Palestinians granted free healthcare and voting rights in the occupied territory, “Rocky Road To Peace”, “Arafat Was Underrated”, or “YourMamaObama@Gmail.com?”

For Holocaust Remembrance Day, the Squad in Congress called Amy Winehouse a devil horn hiding, parasitical Jew bitch, who exploited the Great Palestinian Songbook for all it was worth. Double Down Winners, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Spirit Of Internet Radio

by doitalldadyear, posted in books, fiction, poetry

What’s racist about Voter ID? Does Julio have to pass a height requirement, I don’t know about yet?

Aren’t white boy’s plagued with white man’s disease, more marginalized in the NBA than their fellow brother man? Who knew that guaranteed money despite zero moves to the left was so oppressive?

And what’s racist about not wanting to wear a mask? Unless John Kerry’s wife demanded the mask mandate be lifted at their Illuminati gang bang retreat in Sun Valley because she considers banging faceless Jew nerds like Good Will Hoodie at Facebook beneath her.

Who wears masks past Halloween, besides serial killers like Leather Face in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or Jason past the NHL playoffs? Rob Zombie isn’t wearing one unless he’s attending an open house at Marilyn Manson’s house after making a killing off the Halloween film’s he directed while slicing Wes Craven’s ego into pieces.

And what’s racist about refusing to get vaccinated with an experimental, potentially deadly vaccine, fake news hippie in the tie dye hoodie? I don’t think doctors in the Nazi party who pushed deadly, experimental vaccines on Jewish kids, gays, and cripples with no regrets are no better than physicians today who don’t condemn the FDA wanting authority to give clot shots on little girls, so their wombs become more polluted than Michelle Pfeiffer in Scarface. How can I be racist if I’m against vaccine mandates, especially on kids, if I think doctors of all creeds, who push an experimental, deadly vaccine on kids to avoid catching an itchy esophagus instead, deserve to be hung at the exact same time Fauci is after’s he’s kicked off his booster seat for Fauci Fright Feast Ends directed by Rob Zombie on Pay-Per-View. Plus, you’re the one that said, “Don’t N lip the Philly blunt like you never got your crack pipe addition under control since the Regan years either. Democrats pushed for Jim Crow, founded the Klan and gave us Obama, the most divisive, Jew hating president of all time, so why don’t you shine your war of the hoodies spiel, and jam it up your Rock loving ass, who endorsed Mr. Groper who called Obama “clean” for an African American by the way. The same Rock who’s also guilty of cultural appropriation for exploiting the Rocky brand name 6 movies later, 8 if you’re counting the Creed’s, for all the HGH it’s worth. You’re the racist one for acting above highbrow, historical fiction humor. Or else you’d retweet this a plus gem joke blast to the Rock on Twitter immediately, “Why wasn’t DMX ever accused of cultural appropriation for thuggin up Teddy Rosevelt’s brand of Rough Riders for all it was worth?” But Biden got more votes than Obama Be Good ever did. Yeah, and DMX gave up weed for catnip for Lent, Challah. Yonker’s finest lives, Yonker’s is getting black as shit up here, Challah, thank you very much.”

Spirt of The Internet Radio: Take down anyone who thinks deplorable is anybody who’s glad Jussie Smollett took a shot.

How is masking up our kids in school the right thing to do like my wife on her birthday? Masks are the new condoms, not. I can’t cream in my wife wearing one either, screaming, “Woo, sex is fun again.”

Masks on little girls, don’t scream Woman’s Lib. They cry, “I’m afraid to die. And my parents haven’t even exposed me to Ingmar Bergman films with subtitles about the random, inevitability of heaven free death yet.”

New York City’s only shot of rescinding all vaccine mandates is if Woody Allen comes out as an anti-vaxer on the View. Can you imagine, the most famous neurotic New Yorker of all time, comes out on the View and says, “I’m not an anti-vaxer. I’m just against turning into you Joy.” Whoopie says, “What does that mean Woody?” Woody says, “It means I’ve got a Soon-Yi and won’t die alone after annoying my partner to death like a bat shit crazy cat lady on the Upper West Side like booger face Joy Whoopie? Plus, I’ve been exposed to more deadly threats than COVID? Like waking up next to the head of Seabiscuit after Mia accused me of molesting all the kids on the UNICEF box after her family. Sure, and Joy Behar is going to picked as the new chief happiness officer for Breitbart.”

I interview for an internal recruiter position with Westchester Jewish Community Service in White Plains, NY. Later, a funny thought emerged. It’s hard to recruit candidates in this climate because Florida and Anti-Semitism are so hot right now.

I’m the only Jew I know who takes Adderall before attending synagogue because organized religion makes me feel so disorganized. Normally, I’d lose my place easily during the never-ending prayer service and peak at other congregation member’s prayer books to see what page we’re on like a direction challenged peeping tom.  Now, I just speed reed at my own pace on Adderall in Synagogue to feel like a more focused Billie Madison in Back to Hebrew School. Who’s more at one with pleasing God by making an effort to focus on his holy presence within his transcribed book to Moses more so than being in tune with the ebbs and flows of hyper organized Jews who can sing these, intended sung, sung prayers without the aid of congregational sing along assistance or use of Karaoke machines to drive greater engagement during Shul singles mixers for Neil Diamond appreciation night.

Nowadays, The Guitar Center should be right of center instead of left. Instead, all their guitar technicians and sales personal wear masks like Buckethead without the career gimmick excuse to hide from in the process. How does the Store Manager for The Guitar Store in Danbury, CT consider himself a rock and roll deviant of any kind by forcing his employees to wear masks at work? What’s his justification exactly? Joni Mitchell got my back, so I don’t have to strangle myself with her haggard hippie shawls from the Capital Records Building while screaming, “Free Falling Mom.” The wildflower crooner from Gainesville lives, Traveling Wilburys forevermore, 2 out of 5 left ain’t bad, Meatloaf shines on to, Challah, thank you very much.

Not everyone at The Guitar Center sucks. The guitar tech on staff laughed when I said, “Becoming in tune with what clear tonalities sound like throughout the neck of my guitar is still a work in motion like trying to get a grip on jerking off with my left for vigorous 15-minute stretches at time, which feels less natural than Neil Young singing about opening the Keystone Pipeline again during Farm Aid because he’s another cheap rocker who prefers cheap gas over demonizing fracking on Twitter, knowing all the Mountain Dew consumption down south will offset all those deplorable low birth rates in no time. At the same time, fuck Spotify and Lisa Simpson. Imagine Trump debating Lisa Simpson through Zoom on the Joe Rogan podcast before it gets killed off permanently. Trump says, “Fracking actually reduces our Co2 emissions Lisa. Lisa Simpson shrieks like Daryl Hannah after Neil Young bruises an avocado from throwing it at the TV after Fox News shows a protest sign from the vaccine mandate trucker protest in Ottawa that says, “COVID Damage Done”, before replying to The Donald in dejected disgust, “”So, Neil Young is full of shit now to?” Trump says, “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint, so that much you share in common babe.” But say hello to Greta Thunberg for me Lisa. Feel free to tell her I don’t sweat global warming because Al Gore’s film career has cooled considerably. Plus, this winter in Palm Beach is colder than Harvey Weinstein’s casting couch at the Four Seasons. Last, I don’t see your messiah Obama Be Good sweating rising water levels at his beachfront estate in Hawaii or in Martha’s Vineyard unless Jimmy Kimmel filled up his bong with extra Smart Water, which add extra bounce to your step, making you feel like Jennifer Aniston on the rebound, but hey, that’s what friends are for. Especially for Obama Be Good Joe, because if Obama is such baller, then why would he ride the bench at an all-Asian private school in Hawaii? In case you’re wondering Lisa, the debate is over like whether Obama run Netflix would ever do a remake of the Bush Dynasty to make Nazi war profiteering great again.   The librarian wife isn’t a fan of me Joe. At least, Hillary took a risk to get rich or die trying bitch. And who saw Ellen coming out as friend of W? Joe says, “Ellen is friends with W?” Trump says, “Joe, I know you smoke a ton of dope, but how do you blank on the image of Ellen palling around in the VIP seats with W at a Cowboys game? You live in Texas now for Christ’s sake. Let me make your standup comedy act a thing of beauty for a change. Ellen’s friends with W, she even admitted it on her show to prove what a non-divisive comedian she is because Ellen is pro Bush all the way.  But what do they do together for fun Joe? Invite Michelle Obama to play a game of Operation, Gender Reassignment edition, if W isn’t too busy inspiring his art apprentice Hunter Biden, the Queen calls him Sir Snort A Lot, with painting more water colors of maimed vets bleeding red and white and blue that he gave PTSD to, since Collin Powell shilled for the war machine, like Kareem Abdul Jabbar does for Big Pharma by pushing vaccine mandates on NBA players like his Pharma mutual fund at Prudential was riding on it. Joe interrupts, “But aren’t you being a fence sitting cunt Donald, by espousing individual choice while pushing booster shots on stage with Bill Oreilly, despite your Operation Warp speed approved vaccine working less than Donald Westbrook running the Triangle Offense? Plus, Dr. Malone, an infectious disease expert, claims kids don’t have to sweat COVID like a pool party invite to Tony Podesta’s house, which has enough pedo installation artwork on the walls to make Marilyn Manson blush. More importantly, if you follow the science or read independent research done by our own military doctors, it’s been proven how these COVID vaccines are responsible for causing enlarged hearts, higher fertility rates, even increased cancer rates, that’s causing young athletes in their prime to collapse and die of heart attacks on the field. If ESPN wasn’t just a safe space for Lebron James’s ego, they’d be reporting on these soccer players being dropped faster than Obama on Broadway after Bruce invites him on stage to Dancing In The Dark. Granted, American’s don’t watch soccer, and Fox News cares less about dead Europeans than OJ’s golf handicap, so how else would Americans know? Have you even contemplated condemning all the doctors pushing these dangerous clot shots on kids Donald, or in some cases, mandating them to attend school like they do in California, when the survival rate for COVID is 99.8 percent? Or are you afraid to be associated with vaccines you put a spit shine on ad nauseum because you prefer to have Dr. Gnocchi be associated with playing fake news God by forcing us to sacrifice our children’s lives to prove our undying love of tyrant Nazis doctors in bed with the FDA and the CCP, Sucking?” Alex Jones lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Welcome To Heaven

by doitalldadyear, posted in fiction, humor, poetry

New short story title idea: Busted Mansion Girl.

A comedy about a Busted Mansion Girl on the hill who haunts its new IT Director nerd owner after she’s gone.

Inspired short story title idea part 2: Trucking To Zion.

A comedy about a Canadian trucking Jew named Samuel with dual citizenship who leads a trucker caravan to Zion to film a documentary about a planned Burning Mask Block Party with an unknown bi-racial rapper from up north to headline the vaccine mandate expose extravaganza.

Another killer short story title idea to give Danny McBride a semi-woody in the process.

Over The Top Artist, is a comedy tale about a highly prolific Stay At Home Comedian and father of 3 who posts an ad on Craig’s List written in the 3rd person seeking a text jerk buddy, to stroke off his latest and greatest comedy album creation on SoundCloud, who isn’t an emotionally retarded expressionist that isn’t heavily reliant on the use of emoji images to express hardcore hilarity either.

Short story title idea that could get more personal than I’m prepared to delve into.

Sloppy Second Son is a comedy tale about a blind comedian who can’t see why his friend’s mother doesn’t think his new writing partner should respect her judgment ever again.

One more short story title idea, which I needed to write 2 months ago already. The Zamboni Artist is a comedy tale about a comic strip illustrator who got his column canceled, only to take up driving a Zamboni after striking up an unlikely friendship with a school security guard so he could afford to buy his only daughter some state of art designer skates for Hannukah.

Another last-minute chapter addition post for The Koshertarian Comedians, Demystifying Margarine, which unmasks how it’s butter’s superior self and ideal frying up substance to maximize Koshertarian diet filled delight, assuming you give a shit about honoring God’s eating laws before Jesus granted himself final cut.

Michael Kornbluth

The Zamboni Artist

by doitalldadyear, posted in comedy, entertainment, humor

“No friendship is an accident.”

O. Henry

If a husband googles an ex-girlfriend 3 kids later, does it mean he’s officially divorced from great expectations at home? At the same time, what man isn’t guilty of reflecting fondly on spoiled summers past? Especially, when you’ve had to suck up another frigid east coast winter in the face of permanent career stagnation suckitude again. The same winter and so-called comedy career that felt colder than Harvey Weinstein’s old casting couch at the 4 Seasons when you’re not laughing all the way to the bank yet. But at least, Harvey Weinstein’s wife of the past 12 years finally left him, to focus on her lifetime battle with amnesia. Now, Solomon Kornbluth, a proud stay at home podcast comedian was on thin ice with his wife of 12 years for failing to make any money off his sheets of comedy gold, despite him urging his accountant to write off such an awe inspiring, sparkly array of A plus gemry dissemination on his Do It All Dad time blog and Do It All Dad Time podcast as a generous charitable donation.  What 45-year-old non-industry repped, so called Comedian, Solomon Kornbluth wanted was a win, but not just any win, like getting another comedy record Mega Dumb Daddy reposted on Sound Cloud again by some random, faceless music promo service, but an actual trophy, symbolizing how in this instance Solmon Kornbluth was best of the rest.

Solomon Kornbluth had won some awards in the past, but they weren’t a result of superior mental toughness, sustained physical dominance or a result of outperforming his competition for number 1 champion bragging rights either. Winning Most Improved Basketball player at Sleep Away Camp was an incredibly moving moment for Solomon Kornbluth because despite not knowing the full extent of it yet, he was an overly sensitive, lonely, shy, nerve plagued fag, who blew off Canteen mixers with the fellow female camp members to shoot hoop and read his Cracked comics in bed alone instead after cranking one out to freckle face specked Allyssia Rody, a counselor for the female camp who wore University Maryland boxer shorts, creeping up her supple, spry ass as Dice would say back in the day. And her mountainous cleavage formation was a thing of immovable, feast worthy beauty as those gorgeous melons dangled like luscious lobes of mouth drooling inducing perfection. Ok, so maybe Solomon Kornbluth wasn’t 100 percent gay yet, especially knowing how a fellow bunkmate tried to shame him once for owning a jar of Vaseline while having no idea what that meant. Bunkmate Jordan from New Jersey says in a crackling, just a day over puberty voice, “What do you need that Vaseline for Solomon?” And Solomon says, “I don’t know, for an itchy ass. My mom packed it for me.” Bunkmate Jordan laughs in a slightly demented, pseudo bellowing manner and says, “You can’t blame your mom for being a fudge packer dude.”

Later, on his Do It All Dad Year podcast, Solomon Kornbluth would do a routine about Sex-Ed in Sleepaway Camp throughout the late eighties before Magic made HIV disappear. He says, “Do 3rd graders today really need to know about scented lubes after using good old-fashioned Vaseline became passe already? When I was 13-year-olds at Sleepaway Camp, but still not into the puberty party yet, one of my bunkmates gay shamed me for my mom packing me Vaseline yet I still didn’t get gay lube joke connotations used at my expense till watching shemale porn decades later on 3rd Legged Beauties.com, if you really to know. It’s hard to develop any surge of self-esteem at Sleepaway camp, when you’re the 2nd worst athlete there after the Shiek’s son from Great Neck in yenta breath Seinfeld country. Seinfeld otherwise known as the “Joke Doctor”, just auctioned off one of his vintage Porsche’s for Charity. I hope half that half of those proceeds went to Larry’s kids. I also don’t want Seinfeld smirking for at least 5 years till he gives us a semi-credible excuse on being completely oblivious to Bill Cosby’s 4-decade reign of rape throughout fantastic LA, up high in those Hollywood drugging hills. Where were your powers of observation, then, Jerry? Also, why isn’t Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens in the Hall of Fame already?  They were already Hall of Fame bound when I used to collect their cards at camp. Plus, if I took HGH, Testosterone Shots or any form of performing enhancing drugs at Sleep Away Camp, I just would’ve struck out at a more accelerated speed.”

Solomon Kornbluth never got into collecting hockey cards until his friend Jared got him into the NY Rangers in 93, encouraging him to buy all the hocky cards he could so he could snag an Eric Lindros rookie card of his own, bound to be worth big money one day, who was being hyped as the new great one post Gretzky, who had a bigger mark on his back than Trump did after her triggered the Swamp with fits of despair for relegating good old Jeb Bush to another low energy, half wit hack for hire like the rest. Solomon Kornbluth targeted Laura Bush in his debut comedy album Resist This when he said, “Fuck Laura Bush for thinking the world gives a shit about her memoir, Texas Librarians Know Best.” At least, Hillary Hammer Time Cankles was willing to get rich or die trying bitch. And this is an impression of Stevie Nicks backstage at MSG, “Hillary, tell me lies, only sweet little lies. Versus humongous bitter ones, like how you lost to Trump because of Russian collusion, involving fantasy tales of Drago Holograms emerging in your voting booth only to threaten you with impossible to ignore ultimatums like, “Vote Trump or I’ll break you.” I thought you lost to Trump because you’re an unhuggable cunt, my bad. You must have deleted that memo to Hillary. And why would Trump hire 2 Russian hookers to pee on him at a hotel in Moscow, when he can hire a bunch of Ivanka look-alikes to do the same thing at his hotel in D.C whenever pussy grabber likes?”

One time Solomon and Jared got caught shoplifting Hocky Cards at Child World, yet the security guard let them off with an ominous warning, when he said, “I’m going let you 2 go, but understand the only reason I caught you 2 was because you came back to steal again and got greedy.”  This damning, ominous indictment of greedy self-serving behavior always stayed with Solomon Kornbluth who obviously didn’t pay homage to the commandment Thou Shall Not Steal one iota for some time after. Even his younger brother shamed him into stop stealing Turkey Jerky at Gelson’s as the ultimate shishy bitch life enhancer back in the day. Little bro says,” “Never steal, it’s wrong bro” And this is years after his younger brother, AKA Sir Snort A Lot, was caught on a security camera stealing thousands from his parents ATM to buy more blow at 13 years old in Washington Heights from Julio Silver Blade The 3, which resulted in his parents shipping him off to boarding school with a bunch Jew picking on Hocky jocks in Avon, CT. So Solomon Kornbluth knew what a steep price his parents had to pay for his younger brother’s crimes of incessant, serially serving selfishness like a pseudo slacker underachiever Hunter in the making, who never had the privilege of being able to collect 52 grand a month from a Ukrainian sports drink company for pushing Borscht as the new Kombucha.  

One day Solomon Kornbluth got burnt out on making the world laugh for free on his Do It All Dad Time Podcast again and went to the local hockey rink for a cheap Happy Hour special and was greeted by an Italian bartender, Vinnie Zamboni the 2nd, who’s known to stir memories of ex-girlfriend’s past. Vinnie notices how Solomon Kornbluth is a tad low energy, hunched over his phone without much fiery glint in his eyes. Vinnie says, “Is that IPA stale champ?” Do you want something a tad lighter that’s more poundable like any yenta breath from Long Island on Spring Break?” Solomon Kornbluth laughs and asks, “What’s your story? Bartenders never make me laugh, unless they’re sporting a winter wool hat in summer.” Vinnie says “I’m Vinnie Zamboni the 2rd, my great, great, grandfather invented the Zamboni machine. I do the light shows for the hocky rink. My Zamboni driving days are behind me, cool job though when your 16. I plowed my fair of share of ice queen boxes on top of that puss plower machine. Solomon says, “What type of light shows do you produce? The one at Hayden Planetarium is boring, I felt asleep 2 minutes into it. Daughter woke me with a sharp elbow in my ribs and I yell, “What, God only made Neil Grase Dyson interesting for 2-minute spurts at a time.” Vinnie Zamboni The 2nd laughs and says, “You’re a pretty funny guy yourself. So, what’s bringing you down champ? Solomon Kornbluth says, “Just longing for some fun in the sun again, 2 unplanned kids later. That’s what I get for being a degenerate pothead who keeps on forgetting to ask his girl if she’s on the pill.  What’s bringing me down is realizing how I’m getting bored of my kid’s company and need to get back on stage again. Plus, my pinched nerve in my back is killing me since my wife forced me to see a Hate Speech Therapist since I stopped taking Adderall to focus less on how ahead of the curve annoying my wife can be after droppings lines such as, “I’ve sacrificed. She acts like an aspiring comedian in his early thirties wanted kids ever.  I’m doing a Google Search for a chiropractor, and I end up finding my ex in Hawaii who I met when I used to live in Hermosa Beach. How could I ever forget Summer King beyond those Hermosa skies? Then, I googled a comedy festival in Hawaii, but realized it’s been canceled because of this COVID damage done bullshit, so it got me down because I know I can win it. The only awards I ever won was Grooviest my Senior Year in High School and Most Improved Basketball Player at Sleep Away Camp. I was also wined and dined after leading my IT agency sales office in billing one month and got to party it up in the Sunset Room in fantastic LA once but that’s it. my But I want to win that comedy festival and blast off away in my comedy gold mobile wave runner, which nobody will ever be able to take away from me. George Gershwin lives, Challah, thank you very much. If I can’t afford to get my son the SS flag GI-Joe Aircraft Carrier for Hanukkah, at least I can let him ride my comedy gold wave runner mobile. How much would gas cost to ride that wave runner back to New York exactly? I’m still so broke, my Hebrew name is under Judicial Review.”

Vinnie says, “So I produce light shows flush with holograms of hocky legends both dead and new like Bobby Hull, The Mighty Messier, and reenact legendary fights like when Ty Domi fought Bob Probert in 94, when he poses with the belt around his waist, boy were those the days, pre-social media, before you had to hear lines on kids shows about some character being the Lebron James of stem cell research. What the fuck does that even mean? Is he a celeb Scientist that has his own brand of tequila spiked umbilical cord stump smoothies that he sold to Bill Gates for a cool 500 million or what? Can you believe kids today get Beyond Meat tattoos around these parts? I freelance as a Tattoo artist for my brother’s Tat Parlor in Danbury, CT called Body Art USA.”

Solomon Kornbluth says, “I’ve been telling my local Pizza owner Frank to make an artichoke slice using an alfredo cream sauce, versus just a boring white slice with flaccid, deathly off-white artichokes on it, that will inspire hipsters from Bushwick to make the schlep down to these parts just to Yelp all about it. Plus, I’m getting pissed about Bill Gate’s equestrian riding daughter already owning half the real estate in North Salem already. So, I love the idea of Frank being able to grab a meatier slice of that synthetic pea protein, beyond meat pie.” Vinnie says, “So whatever happened to your Summer Wind? Solomon says, “She smiled at me one day with her soul blasting eyes that screamed I love you, and for some strange reason, my eyes didn’t love her back. One time she died her blond, when I took her out to meet up with a friend of mine in Nappa and everyone thought she was a high-end prostitute, because she dressed real classy sexy with the tight dress, creeping up her ass. I loved kissing Summer King. We’d do weed shotgun kisses together, which were the best. We made veal piccata while watching the Soprano’s together, drank Pyramid peach beers by Hermosa Beach and nobody sported prettier feet in the sand than Summer King. Vinnie says, “Summer sounds like a real trophy wife material.” Solomon says, “Yeah, she even said, “Why don’t we move to Santa Barbara so I could write books and she could day trade to make us money for the time being. Boy, did I fuck that one up. Vinnie says, “I hate to bring you down more than you already are Champ, but you’re right.”

Solomon Kornbluth says, “Summer liked Metallica, Wu Tang, the Soparnos and loved everything about me. She thought I could be a big-time writer just from reading my Friends spec script for Christ’s sake. Vinnie says, “I already told you fucked up bro. I’m known as the ex-girlfriend stirrer but you’re just progressively pissing me off for being such a dumb fuck for expunging her from your life jerkoff. You don’t think I want to kick back in the sand with a hot Asian gal from Hawaii in pebble free Hermosa Beach with a gal named Summer King no less for Christ’s sake” I had to suck up summers in an ocean full of seashells and fucking nets of seaweed in Norwalk, CT for Christ’s sake. Plus, my brother owns this rink and its family tradition to keep it family operated. You’re a little old for it, but do you want a job riding a Zamboni? We’re already running around in circles, so why not take your sad sack sob story around the ice for a couple of laps because you’re bringing me down and enraging me at the same time. I’m paraphrasing but Mark Twain said writers write interesting stories who’ve possessed a series of interesting, varied jobs, so why not a give the Zamboni driver job a shot champ? You obviously have nothing better do with your time on a Sunday, ultra-wise King Solomon you’re not.”

Solomon Kornbluth took the job and smoothed over the rough patches with his wife at home before being promoted to chief Zamboni manager, who worked on his MC skills as the host of a weekly Karaoke night, rocking out renditions of Baba O’Reily with real deal star powered authority. Then, one year later, Solomon Kornbluth got his trophy and won the Aloha Comedy Festival, coming in 1st place and was able to take his wife, and mother of 3 children for endless, killer spins in his new comedy gold mobile for one memory rich victory lap after the next after, delivering a killer set for the ages that started off like this.  

Solomon Kornbluth Kills

It’s hard to keep cool when your kids were forced to wear masks like Michael Jackson’s kids on holiday in Bahrain.

If Michael Jackson were alive today, how would he defend himself against all his Neverland accusers exactly? Would the King of Popping cherries say, “All the Beatles royalty points in the world, can’ t buy me love?”

Anyone try Snoop Dog’s new wine?  According to Wine Advocate, it tastes like mouth wash used in porn hood hell.

Actually, gave up drinking beer last summer. It got humiliating spending so much time, hungover, recycling, endless reminders of my lush, littered past, as entire Rocky Marathons on AMC passed me by.

Did you know 4/20 is Hitler’s birthday? After learning this, I felt more betrayed than the time Sly Stallone snuck Mel Gibson into Expendables 3.

Stopped smoking weed till I discovered weed edibles, which are half CBD because I felt like a total moron trying to answer my daughter’s questions on the pure sticky stuff. Daughter asks, “Daddy if God created the universe, then who created God?  I say, “God went back in time in a Time Machine made by Elon Musk. Daughter says, “Real convincing Daddy. Thanks for making me an Atheist at 4.”

And this is Ziggy Marely being interviewed by High Time Magazine. Ziggy, how did your dad have 7 kids? Doesn’t ganja drain your ball sack dry? Ziggy Marely says, “Fake news, MAN.”

And if Obama is such a baller, why did he ride the bench at an all-Asian private school in Hawaii?

What if Bob Marley became President of the United States, so Obama didn’t have to? For starters, there’s no more trouble and it’d be a punky reggae party tonight and we’d be jamming in the name of the Lord, not in honor of Allah’s Gangster ruining paradise, especially since the hopeful one rebranded ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more start up friendly in the NY Times.

And ISIS Headhunters aren’t good recruiters. All they do is target other lonely virgins on Face Book Messenger like Good Will Hoodie/AKA Zit Face Zuck, who wish their phones blew up.

But killing the number 2 in charge of ISIS made it easier for ISIS to recruit. Like the head of recruitment for ISIS would ever honor a non-compete agreement with Al-Qaeda.

And why are radical jihadists so into deflowering virgins in Allah’s hymen hacking Paradise? Doesn’t Jihadi John have enough blood on his hands already?

Other text in the Koran also promises the duration of sex greatly prolonged and its pleasure enduring. Spoken like a like a true Virgin asshole till the end of time and I feel fine, Challah, thank you very much.

Solomon Kornbluth was later blown up to smithereens on his Comedy Gold Mobile Wave Runner in the Red Sea by Hamas terrorists after headlining a comedy tour there called, “King Solomon Kornbluth Lives”, because a 2-state solution is impossible if Hamas keeps fucking.

Still, what’s better than a 1st place Trophy is a new award in your honor, given every year at the Standin O Laughs Festival in Haifa called the Killer Kornbluth Award, honored to a comic that year, who exhibited fearless, killer shtick till his last dying breath.  

All 3 of Solomon’s killer Koshertarian kids won the Killer Kornbluth Award in their dear dad’s honor soon after. So comedic royalty in the mold of King Solmon Kornbluth did live on through Do It All Dad’s big three after all.

And Solomon Kornbluth had his new Zamboni Artist friend to thank for his victory laps in his Comedy Gold Mobile, taken with his 3 biggest fans in the universe while squeezing on to their dear dada with all their loving might in his custom made, stretched 3-seater Wave Runner. The same team who always stood by his side, especially when his comedy career was ice cold, when mama would threaten to kick him out the house whenever the mood struck, and not even Hamas, despite them trying, could ever that away from thee.  Unplanned favorites rule, proving once again how no friendship is an accident. O. Henry lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Trucking To Zion

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, faith, family

“Daddy, Jews for Mormonism doesn’t make any sense. So why are you converting to Mormonism again? Is it because you hate your people since you got fired from your intern blogger position for The Times of Israel for insisting China has resisted Wuhan lab investigations more than AquaFresh?, Little Samuel says. Do It All Dad takes his right hand off the steering wheel of his giant rig renamed Misinformation Machine and rubs his son’s head and says, “Your mother has a younger brother in Utah who’s a high ranking, Generation Z preacher of the Mormon Church, who with a little convincing, can grant me a religious exemption for the COVID vaccination after I convert. Then, I won’t have to worry about the fake news vaccine shot killing me more than the prospect of receiving a career consultation from LinkedIn ever again, my chest. This is an impersonation of Dr. Dre telling Eminem about Microsoft paying 4.5 billion for LinkedIn. Eminem says,” Worrddddddddd, LinkedIn, is lamer than ever yoh!” Thank God, I trusted my gut, cut myself off from Mimi and Papa and got my trucker License instead.”

Little Samuel says, “I’ll always be on your team to make more comedy records daddy, because more comedy records for you is more comedy records for me, moron Son. When will you record comedy record 91, putzy moron butt carrots?” You’re taking forever already. Mama wouldn’t want you to put the brakes on your comedian career on my behalf, not that it hasn’t stopped you before, but you get the gist Boozy Beer Daddy.” Do It All Dad gets a tad misty, overwhelmed with a surge of heart aching emotion and says, “Her dreamy blond looks live through you kid, which should help bolster our case when we ask her Mormon brother Blair Rittenhouse Square The 3rd to give us that religious exemption after he converts me to Mormonism. How can you not get big love in Utah kid? One time, a MILF bum rushed you at the supermarket when you were only 2 and says, “When you get older, you’ll have 3 girlfriends to juggle.” And I said, “If James Woods had this kid’s face, your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.”

Little Samuel says, “Do most mommies die of heart attacks at 42 Daddy?” Do It All Dad says, “Not unless they’re employed by the WWE kid. Mama died from the COVID clot shot and she didn’t have the strained heart I had from all the cocaine I did in my twenties throughout my thirties, only hearing last call from the bathroom stall while yelling, “Where’s Hunter?” Who is else is going to pay for this shit? Shit, we’re running low on gas. You know the routine Samuel. Money equals freedom and we can’t make it to Utah if we don’t sell some bumper stickers fast. The GPS says there’s a Shell station in 1.2 miles, we should have enough to make it. Still not banking on Obama Be Good lickers like Dave Chapelle getting his cousins Trump voiced GPS systems for Kwanza. On your far left, is Mohegan Sun, Elizabeth Warren’s home away from home. Now, grab the COVID Damage Done bumper stickers and get ready to sell with divine powered authority like Kevin Hart’s agent in convincing Universal Studio’s anyone who calls him a poor man’s Eddie isn’t a jealous hater, just a short on laughs spectator.”

Little Samuel approaches a Karen type going to the bathroom at the Shell station and says, “Hi, can I interest you in a bumper sticker to support the Freedom Trucker Convoy, called COVID Damage Done?” Karen says, “Is that supposed to be a stupid Neil Young reference kid?” As far as I’m concerned you can’t vaccinate kids young enough. Thank God New York state doesn’t allow you to attend Pre-K without wearing a mask on. Wear the damn mask kid, they still work. Do It All Dad interjects, “Hey Karen, why don’t you suck the hate speech and white privilege out of my chosen person schlong first. Consider it elongated love. Pretend Justin Trudeau ordered you to leak it.” A group of truckers overhear the commotion and crack up in unison. One of the truckers raises his voice among the deafening shriek of laughter and says, “I’ll take 100 bumper stickers kid.”

Do It All Dad and Little Samuel arrive at Zion National Park to have a moment with God before plowing forward with the Do It All Dad Does Mormonism pitch to his dead wife’s brother preacher. Do It All Dad says, “God, I’m half a fag, so the polygamy thing isn’t that much a driving force behind my decision to forsake my Jewish side for Mormonism. Plus, most Mormons voted for Mitt Romney, so their judge of good character is questionable at best. The exalted, all-knowing Mitt called Trump the Anti-Christ for Christ’s sake. But in the Bible part 2, Jesus returns from heaven to defeat the Anti-Christ. So have some faith, in the Jesus comeback story, won’t you, people?” Little Samuel says, “Does this mean you’re not converting to Mormonism now Dad?” Do It All Dads beams with divine powered light and says, “Looks like it doesn’t kid. How many bumper stickers do we have left?” Samuel says, “We got 52” and one hardcore hilarious joker.” Do It All Dad says, “That should be enough gas money to get us to Vegas. There’s a new Stand-Up Comedy Festival there called, “Seriously Clowning”, the winning comedian gets 25 grand and a co-hosting audition for the Russell Brand’s podcast. I’ll take those odds kid.” Little Samuel looks up to his cherished, Dear Dada and says “You’re going to kill them Daddy, you’re going to kill them. Don’t forget to open with your bit about me confusing Grandma for Kurt Cobain on the TV, which isn’t the most flattering look.” Do It All Dad says, “Nirvana didn’t kill Hair Metal, Aids did, before Magic Made HIV disappear. Courtney Love is Mia Farrow with better husband selection. If Kurt Cobain killed himself at the height of his popularity, then Woody Allen just got book advance from Random House on a book about hands off parenting called Crimes and Misdemeanors, The Early Years. I miss Trump’s relentless optimism and over the top salesmanship. If Trump was stabbed with the deep state needle used to take out Easy E, he’d tweet the next morning on whatever hate speech platform he’s allowed to rumble on next, “Do I have HIV? Yes, but my t-cell count numbers have never been stronger. Can I get a holla for some Challah? Mongoloid Moron lives, running on schtick till the end of the time and I feel fine, Challah. Thank you very much.”

Michel Kornbluth

Smackdown Satan

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, fiction, sports

“You shall not misuse the name of the Lord by calling him “Fake News Mercy God”, Lucifer. Just because God won’t give WWF wrestler Bam, Bam Bigelow his angel wings, despite you having a soft spot for flaming bear wrestlers in tights.” Arch Angel of Heaven, Michael says. Lucifer fires back with, “Michael means “Who is like God.” You mean another micromanager control freak. I give humans the permission to exercise free will in the service of pleasing themselves. That makes me the good life giver, not God, Michael.” Michael says, “You don’t get to be the ears of Lucifer, I do.” Lucifer says, “Don’t think for a second, I want to trade winged tipped shoes with you Michael. Your name Michael means who is like God. You mean another micromanager square who won’t give Bam, Bam Bigelow his angel wings because he considers drug overdoses a form of subconscious suicide. Your name Michael means who is like God, but what it really means is sloppy second spokesperson after Moses. And if Moses really knew God face to face, then why didn’t he prophesize about the condemnation of goatees on metal rappers during Woodstock 94, before the entire shit show went up in flames?  But that’s what happens when Jewel is considered a seat stayer middling act before Limp Bizkit gave Carson Daily sustained stiffage until Kid Rock’s performance blew everyone away in college bliss paradise.” Michael says, “Why am I hearing a new rumor around Heaven about you being the voice behind the Burning Bush Lucifer? You’d literally piss on Moses’s grave if you knew where to find it. And you wonder why God makes you feel like the sloppy second son, brother.” Lucifer says, “I was the voice behind the Burning Bush. It was a prank I learned at Angel Magic Camp. I enjoy hearing Moses stutter like the kid in Billy Madison. But Moses didn’t shatter his teeth from stuttering after I spoke to him through the Burning Bush as expected. At the same time, Moses stumbling to articulate more excuses to turn down God’s job offer was hilarious. “Whiny Jews chosen to complain about not receiving immediate recognized sit-down service at restaurants in Del Ray Beach won’t take me seriously as your chosen your spokesperson Lord. It’s not as simple as Joan Rivers hocking jewelry to Midwest housewives she detested on the QVC. I project less than Kamala Harris in the lock jaw love position. The Jewish elders won’t believe we possess the power to wrestle our Jewish brothers and sisters away from the arms of slavery, despite our God given ability to hondle better than an Egyptian. Jews are slaves to poor taste in the form of bankrolling overrated musicals like Hamilton, which sounds more awkward forced than Don Lemon rapping to Obama on his birthday with a generic, hip flavored, Shakesperian accent.  Why would Pharoah release our people from Slavery? What form of leverage do we have to offer our Lord besides the threat of my cousin Schlonka boring Pharoh to death through her mustard making workshop seminar at local JCC?” Michael, says, “Remember when God said to Mosses, God’s favorite prophet on Ranker and on Quora, last I time I checked, “You shall have no other God’s before me”, little brother? Well, that includes your Olympian size ego that rivals Obama Be Good. Who I’m sure doesn’t pleasure himself in front of the mirror naked the way you do.” Lucifer says, “That’s because Obama isn’t circumcised. I can’t get aroused by the ant eater look either.” Michael says, “Future Talmudic scholars will amplify God’s commandments in relation to you little brow when stating, “You shall not suck off the totality of your own awesomeness and refrain from stroking off what elongated love you provide the universe without 1st giving shout out props to the all mighty for endowing you with such special equipment to become a star powered lighter upper with 1st.”  Lucifer says, “But similar to Jeffery Bruckheimer, God’s not the only big swinging dick in the producer business Michael. Tell that to Brian Grazer at Imagine Entertainment or to Mark Wahlberg, who’s the executive producer of Entourage for Christ’s sake.”

Michael says, “And you wonder why God never speaks directly to you anymore, just grumbling to his assistant Joshua in the background whenever you call on his birthday again or bother to text Shana Tova and wish him a happy Jewish new year.” Lucifer says, “Communication is a 2-way street brother. And if I do hear from our holy father, it’s because he’s dictating another business memo to his cherished assistant Joshua, the temp who could transcribe all the sketched in stone commandments without complaining about surging case of carpel tunnel syndrome development in the making. The last business memo Dad sent me was called, “Life Giver God”. The all mighty called me a bigger a plus narcissist than Kayne West for claiming I could come up with better logo designs for my own line of winged, high tops sneakers like the one with a space shuttle in the form of a dragon called Rarefied Air Lucifer’s.” Michael says, “We get it Lucifer, you want to feel like God’s gift to the universe 24/7 but forget angel wing promoting power, that’s far outside of your pay grade brother. Granted, Bam, Bam Bigelow was a phenomenal wrester for his size, who power slammed his opponents into the mat with forceful funk authority like a more feral Junk Yard Dog, cranked up on Crystal Meth despite swallowing a cauldron of Hooter’s hot wings. Still, you don’t get to draft your own team of archnemesis angels.  So, stop acting as if your Dr. Jerry Buss in Winning Time on HBO who was anointed with savior type status for the city of angles, with the deep pockets to match. At least Kayne made money enough money off his artistry to justify his ego enlargement therapy sessions on wax for Def Jam and Roc-A-Fella records. Have you even had a real job Lucifer?  And playing the role of a freelance fortune teller writer doesn’t count, especially when you couldn’t even sell your own brand of weed oil pens to a Chinese Restaurant weed dispensary in Oak town, Dragon Lungs Incorporated, despite Snoop Dog’s endorsement on it. Maybe, our father in Heaven decided it was time for divine intervention again and appeared in a puff of bong smoke when Cyprus Hills was in town refusing to socially distance from Mary Jane for more than 2 seconds at a time and freaked out the owner of Dragon Lungs Incorporated, the moment he started making damning Snoop Dog jokes. Have you tried Snoop Dog’s new wine yet? According to Wine Advocate, “It tastes like mouth wash used in porn hood hell.”  Lucifer says, “Enough talk. I challenge you to a Ladder match in Heaven to wrestle away your precious favored angel status from Dad.” Problem is you don’t know how to fight do you, Michael? Michael says, “Unlike you Lucifer, I have friends in high places, to end your endless smack talking about Big Mouth Moses for good.”

A winged, Macho Man Savage launches into his famed elbow drop from way up high in the Heavens on top of Lucifer’s head while God from above bellows, “Oh yeah”. God adds, “You want to be my ears now Lucifer you got it.” Next, a winged Super Fly Jimmy Snuka comes flying down off a golden ladder tall as the World Trade Center with a coconut in hand that smashes into 2 as it comes crashing down on Lucifer’s rapidly rupturing head.” Then, a winged Owen Hart, swoops in to unleash a dropkick that smacks Lucifer into Hell, to deliver justice for all, especially in honor of Moses, Abraham and David who earned the plethora of good man shout outs in the Torah for a reason. Michael gives a bunch of ariel high fives to his new angel brothers in arms, Macho Man, Super Fly and Owen Hart, all highflyers till the end of time and says, “Slim Jim’s on me” as Flying High by Ozzy Osbourne blares on God’s decked out gold plated surround sound speakers as guitar God Randy Rhodes puts on a one man show for all WWF angels including the female wrestler China in attendance despite Lucifer talking her into doing that sex tape Back Door To Chyna in addition to her subconscious suicide from pills and booze. Even God, is a softy for female body builders and gave her angel wings because she already shouldered the responsibility of being the 1st major WWE female wrestler star to break in the big, in the “attitude era”, while becoming the only female wrestler to win the Intercontinental Belt Championship, let alone beat Triple H and high flying, metal howler Chris Jericho. Besides, who else is going to break balls about Macho Man’s steroid size nuts in Heaven with such divine powered authority. “Hey, Randy, can I be your new Miss Elizbeth in heaven? I know, your balls filled a missing person report ages ago, but are they still big enough to take on the Chyna challenge, which is drilling my hole into China for shits and giggles for Big Trouble in Back Door Chyna Part 2.” Macho Man screams, “Hell yeah. Then again, power slams are more up Bam, Bam, Bigelow’s alley.”

Michael Kornbluth