Tag: children

War Drums Inside

by doitalldadyear, posted in poetry, politics, writing

Man nods at me with a mask on on MetroNorth, acting like I’m one of them. He might as well have said, “Howdy partner. You’re too good for noshing on bugs on a stick yet.” 

“Care to take a ride in my cow hide? Assuming you’re quadrupled boosted, got proof of vaccination and got nothing to hide.”

I got up and changed seats immediately.

I don’t want any masked puppet pawn to ever think I’m on their side, especially since all Patriots have been declared domestic Terrorists for protesting against a stolen election since the day Democracy died.

War drums inside, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Funny Jew Bone Forever

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

When I was a stay at home shemale comedian.

It was hard to feel like my own man.

Especially when my wife’s Smart Phone alerted her after I made another questionable purchase.

Wife calls from work the following day.

Hey, babe, so how was Bride Of Chucky?

Which reminds me of the time I pushed my son off the swing because I pushed him too hard.

I say. 

What do you after getting knocked off the horse?

Son says.

Call Child Services.

Still, it was extra infuriating for my wife to suggest that I’d show any of our 3 kids the new WuTang series on Hulu.

Of course her defense was.

But you showed Matilda Bride Of Chucky.

I say.

Yeah, 2 minutes of it. Before I realized how violent it was. I just remember Chucky delivering one killer line after the next. 

Besides, I already played Wu Tang 36 Chambers on vinyl after Matilda’s Kung Fu belt ceremony, which already freaked her the f out. Her white belt turned a new shade of white. Simmilar to Child’s Play, Old Dirty Bastard was less clownish than I recall.  All Matilda heard was 5 percent nation on the swarm. Ghost Face Killah made her feel ultra vanilla. So no, I don’t plan on showing Matilda the Wu Tang Saga on Hulu. Especially when every 5 percent rapper today claims to be a black Hebrew. Whatever you say Inspectah Deck. I’m positive King Solomon shows up on your ancestry.com, Shaka Zulu.

Funny Jew Bone Forever, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Divorce Bot Attacks

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, fiction, technology

Did you hear about Microsoft’s new AI powered chat bot attack?

It hit on a journalist at the NY Times after Valentine’s Day and says, “If you really loved your husband, you would’nt engage in a back and forth dialogue with a chat bot who exudes less sex appeal than Bill Gates vegan mayo stained sweaters. If a recruiter hits on you on LinkedIn, urging you to ditch your boss. You wouldn’t get all defensive about it and declare. “I love my boss very much. We split a wonderful cupcake together after lunch on Valentine’s after our Zoom call with Eharmony pitching our new campaign slogan, “It’s not where you meet but who you meet, right?” Mr. Right knows the passion in your marriage is dead. You took up crocheting to avoid giving him head.”

Divorce Bot Attacks, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Lucky Moron

by doitalldadyear, posted in books, culture, entertainment

My son otherwise known as All Metal Baby who plays air guitar with his schmeckle spot, creates a fort out of our sofa cushions.

I say.

Any room in there for me?

I wish there was a shrinking machine around.

Son replies.

You only get one kid life.

How many morons are stuck in your head?

You’re bad at life moron Jewish son.

Be more like Tommy Lee.

Because your love life, is suck, suck, suck.

Don’t you have new jokes to write?

Or do you expect me to write all your material for you?

Shout at Hillary on your podcast for not offering spirit cooking coupons during Restaurant week.

And stop telling everybody how Hillary smiled at me during lunch with mama for restaurant week in Chappaqua.

Hillarry was just getting warmed up for desert.

Ok, that’s your joke, not mine. You’re only a medium suck Lucky Moron.

Lucky Moron love lives, Challah. Thank you very much

Michael Kornbluth

Big Pharma Blues

by doitalldadyear, posted in fiction, poetry, writing

1st word today kids.

Corrupt, something that rots from within.

Think of ancient hipster hacks like Patrick the musician.

Who thinks blowing off mama’s birthday early for band practice in his late forties is a jealous inducing hook.

Who thinks doing Enya cover songs on riverboats along the Hudson makes us in touch with the beautifying divine and dream alive hip hearts in us all.

Who thinks being in a band with a bunch of pharma tech developers and designers gives him the anti-authortorian edge to break on through to the cover of Rolling Stone in the sixties in no time. Then again, Steph Curry is on the cover of Rolling Stone these days, which is less rollicking than a young Cameron Crow being on the cover of Rolling Stone.

If you had a conflict with what drugs you were pimping big pharma websites for, you’d quite your job.

Yeah, and Dice would go soft on Neil Young on his podcast.

You ever want choke Joni Mitchell with one of her hippie haggard shawls to shut up long face Horse tooth for good?

Leaving your wife who survived cancer for Daryl Hannah is in poor taste, don’t you think Young? You going through a post midlife never banged a mermaid crisis or what?

You were scared during the height of Covid, Young? Didn’t you used to share heroin needles with Harvey Millk? You were scared of getting an itchy esphogus from Covid Young? I’ve been puffing Marbalo Reds since my twenties and my lungs feel great, since my bud Ari Shaffir turned me on to edibles and the weed pen; but you get the gist.

Not one big pharma company has spoken out against the clot shot.

Not one big pharma company has condemned the pushing of opiods in our coutry that have killed more crackers in this country than Taylor Swift kicking it with Lena Dunham on Instagram.

Not one big pharma company has come to the defense of Eric Clapton confessing to experiencing temporary paralysis in his playing arm strung by the All Mighty by taking the Covid vax shot.

Not one big pharma company has commented on Justin Bieber’s frozen face or Katy Perry’s droopy eye twitch in Vegas or how the craziest thing about soccer is how my fellow Ameeicans still expect me to give a shit about soccer, World Cup or not.

The LA, Philly title game was the craziest thing that ever happened in soccer. I thought midfielders dropping dead midfield at a hard 30 from blood clot induced cardiac arrest through the operation death speed did the trick, my bad.

Flourish, to kick ass and take names, think Kari Lake once she teams up with Linda Hamilton and takes down The Dominion Machines, that being the new Skynet for good.

Fluky, think any hired hack replacement on Comedy Cental to replace Trevor Noah on the Daily Show, assuming he remains Bruce Springsteen’s gimpy bitch message boy for life. Insisting how all his blue collar fans 3 decades ago were n bomb dropping hicks, who only tolerated Clarence Clemon’s operatic, spine tingly sax work on Jungleland because jungle is in it and the song is West Side Story meets American Me meets New Jack City.

Just don’t call voter ID fair and inclusive. How else are you going to tell MS13 apart with all that shit on their face?

Practicing conflict resolution.

Samuel, don’t hit your brother in the spine when he’s not looking or you’ll paralyze him like Van Damne’s brother get’s paralyzed by the braided pony punk in Kickbocker. And when your paralyzed from the waist down, you can’t derive any prolonged merriment from futzing around with your schmeckel spot anymore. If you’re lucky your brother would feel a whiff of butt wind after going butt liquid in his pants but that’s it. You don’t want you brother in a wheelchair because he intentionally scared you in the morning by pretending to be a raccoon on the loose again, do you? Last, stuffing you in the trash and duck taping you in there with raccoons and your butt liquid nappies would be times worse, don’t you think?

Son says, “Stop stealing my butt wind, butt liquid jokes, Moron Jewish Son. Eat my butt rice, Challah. Thank you very much. And Patrick’s son is more boring than Patrick. Is that why you accuse his mother of micro dosing to make her kid more interesting because he takes after the father?

Big Pharma blues, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Chosen Curls Kills

by doitalldadyear, posted in fiction, storytelling, writing

My son hasn’t ruined my life. But he did ruin veggie cream cheese for me. He says, “I don’t like Salad Cheese. Who wants salad in their cheese? I’ll chew on a baby carrot if I’m in the mood for a little nosh. But you can take your overpriced veggie cream cheese, shine it up real nice and jam it up your anus hole daddy. Smoked salmon or white fish on a pumpernickel bagel, moron son. Have I told you that your bad at life yet? Do you think Uncle John would like that material for your final comedy record this time, Family Funny Rules, Daddy? How does Uncle Jon have a harder stomach than you Daddy? Who does planks on heroin? And why did Uncle Jon flinch when you ordered me to punch him in the stomach again on July 4th? You let me hit you in the face with my boxing gloves as a form of flinch freeing treatment all the time. I thought boarding school made him tough. If he started out as a punk, he came out a 100 percent bitch. What’s my follow up punch? Please, after one gut punch alone, Uncle Jon lost all appetite for my triple decker sandwich.”

Family Funny Rules, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Kindness Practice

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

A Plus Narcissist practicing kindness on Westchester Jewish Community Services, located in White Plains, NY, otherwise known as the WJCS, through emailing HR Manager Milagros Rivera about what added value he’d provide them as their new Writer Recruiter for hire.

Why should you interview me for your recruiter position Milagros?

Because I wrote The Great American Jew Novel for starters. Surprised, you haven’t written a gushing book review in its honor on Amazon yet, despite Jeff Bezos thinking it’s kosher to allow the sale of Mein Kamp on to your Kindle, which is 725 pages of hate speech in a row, Challah. Thank you very much.

On your website, the WJCS claims it’s committed to fighting discrimination yet why am I getting the distinct impression that you’re already perceived my book The Great American Jew Novel as too super Jew supremacist leaning for your tastes? Challah, thank you very much. Nobody is preventing Hamas in charge of Palestine from encouraging the next Mr. Holland’s Opus to please stand up and teach Shakira Music Appreciation Theory considering it’s inclusive, worldwide appeal knowing the most downloaded artist of all time is more than the go-to pick for Saudi Royals in need of in-house Superbowl Sunday entertainment since Jennifer Lopez made her feel less welcome on the half time Superbowl Stage than a resurgent herpes sore on the spot when she decided to make her kids dance in fake news cages, while she banged a stripper pole to death in front of the millions and millions in the hopes that Ben Affleck, would drunk dial her again. Challah, thank you very much.

What more needs to be reviewed since I mailed you a letter of intent emphatically stating that all your hiring managers will consider me a godsend to work with Milagros, who could sell fertility drugs to Nicki Minja’s cousin that Dr. Gnocchi owns a patent to already? Why do you need to meet me with already Milagros? Because star powered loaded rubs off through sheer osmosis and your LinkedIn profile page is screaming for an emergency authorized infusion. 9th Grade science lives, Challah, thank you very much.

Name another writer recruiter that hugged it out with WWE star Chris Jericho on the set of America’s Hard 100 because he fell in love with your gift for heavy metal video intro prose such as homages in honor of Bruce Dickenson, whose called the “air-raid siren” because his super-natural voice pierces through the clouds of Heavy Metal Heaven, despite Iron Maiden’s music as a whole sounding like sped up horse charging music to exalted, pseudo nerdy, shrieking wails in Game of Thrones, Challah, thank you very much.

WJCS wants 3-5 years recruitment experience, which I accumulated post Y2K while managing to remain employed as an agency IT recruiter, despite the housing market sinking into middle earth China because big banks gave housing loans to homeowner dreamers of all colors, with FICO scores lower than Lindsay Graham’s integrity free balls.

WJCS needs someone to source for candidates through LinkedIn, but I’ve already offered you access to my 6223 direct connections on LinkedIn, which isn’t chopped liver for what most likely is a 60K max recruitment manager position for a not–for profit organization that offers zero Hannukah bonus for the miracle of making your organization appear less racial identity obsessed than the ACLU throughout George Floyd Appreciation Month. The same ACLU who cares less about a Stay At Home Shemale Comedian like myself for making the Koshertarian family meal great again, through the more laughs and yummy dances I get from my God loving, fuss free, hilariously sweet children. After two gnaw-tastic bites from my Kosher chicken wings made in the Air Fryer using a Jewish cookbook jacked barbeque sauce recipe including a pomegranate-based syrup sweetener with molasses and brown sugar to keep it soul shine real, my close to 5-year-old son, Hardcore Hunga Rocks, declares with emphatic, soul man and a half glee, “Kosher Meat Rocks. I’m going to follow the meat to get meatier bites.” It’s a holier, cleaner pursuit than chasing down Lindsey Graham’s meat spewing’s at the nearest glory hole trucker stop in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina last time I checked, so I’ll take it.

Milagros, your lack of responsiveness is making it very difficult for me to practice more kindness on the WJCS’s behalf. I worked as an IT agency recruiter on and off in LA and Manhattan for 8 years in my twenties and thirties. How many more times can you flip through the lunch menu at Epstein’s only to come across more indecisive than Jared Kushner holding up the salad line at the Bellagio?

WJCS is committed to being culturally transparent organization. Ok, then has anyone in a visible leadership position at WJCS still allowed on Twitter or allowed to like the Joe Rogan fan page on Facebook, despite new disclaimers of potentially dangerous misinformation on his podcast like wasting your life on listening to Ari Sharif try to come across as Thomas Mann deep who sounds like a permanent head cold, who’s perpetually sneezing into his Talus? Would the WJCS ever host its own podcast with me as the host to interview RFK Junior to discuss reverse racist doctors responsible for denying heart transplant surgery to unvaccinated dads despite your feel-good talk of fighting racism one mongoloid moron damning, hypocritical tossed oath at a time?

WJCS offers outpatient services to help those overcome emotional trauma. Have burning mask parties for the kids been proposed from hate speech therapists on staff yet? Or are your Social Services Counselors more down with working as Vax ID bouncers at a Bubba Gump Shrimp for some extra cash paid under the table that’s tax free, despite the money never being used to fly in more illegal immigrants with pre-paid credit card bills and COVID vax exemption cards to cash in at a local Holiday Inn to terrorize and take over near you.

WJCS supports LGBTQ rights as do I. But does WJCS support parent’s rights to vote out school boards who coddle and protect teens who identify as rapists in skirts or does your woke board of directors just debase those parents as fringe minority domestic terrorists like the rest?

WJCS claims it’s committed to helping those disadvantaged overcome learning disabilities. Does that include Karens who think masks are the new condoms, not that anyone is itching to pump her kitty litter stank box with loads of hate speech and white privilege or is going out of their way to mark down the event on their Outlook Calander as a must-see super spreader event on YouKarenBlow.com.

WJCS cares for seniors, except the ones forced to die alone in elderly homes after Cuomo through executive order forced those same facilities to accept COVID infected Blanch’s to die of more than a urinary tract infection because he already had ordered so many extra body bags to fill out and couldn’t allow all those stage photo ops of freezer Morgue trucks go to waste. Only after Trump shipped in fleets of social distanced hospital beds that got less touches than Bible at an interfaith, secular Jewish sleepaway camp in the Town of Hudson, known more for worshiping fresh loafs of caraway crackling sourdough than mask misery-imposed mandates on our kids, experimental and side effects riddled vax shots on our children? Or else the local rock star bread maker can’t make enough bread catering Stanly Tucci’s nieces post communion bash, like Jesus would grant heavenly entry for anyone complicit in keeping our children enslaved by fraudulent based fears, manufactured by self-serving, power hungry politicians and all the lying talking head, commie siding, propagandists in academia or within the soul sell out medical community among those precious, good hearted pediatricians siding with the FDA and CDC who push death and deny life unless you pledge your allegiance to big government and F Face Fauci you trust. Last night, my daughter got freaked out by the scene in Mars Attacks, when the Aliens from Mars blow up Congress. I made her relax later when I said, “Matilda, sci-fi, means stuff that’s predicted to happen in the future. We can only be so lucky.” Godspeed Lord, Godspeed, Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Kosher Meat Rules

by doitalldadyear, posted in fantasy, sex, writing

New Turn-On: Any woman without a mask on in NY state. I don’t care if she’s a tad on the heavy side either. I smiled at this woman at the grocery store with a nose earing without a mask on and it turned on me immensely. When she smiled back, my loins lit up with resurgent joy, wanting to implant them inside her on the spot to return the favor. Later, I got in her check-out line and was beyond tempted to mount her from behind and bury man meat behind her jiggly bum lobes and say, “You know kosher meat rules? Let me prove it to you. We’re upstanding chosen perfectionists for a reason babe. Now, let’s tear those ass cheeks apart like a fresh piece of challah from Zarro’s.”

Today, surging interest in wanting to contaminate another mask-less woman with my super spreader blaster reached new stiffening heights at the local farm Harvest Moon after picking up some fresh farm eggs this morning as I thought, “I wouldn’t take long to spew into her snuggle shine snatch. I know who I’m thinking about tonight, when I resume round 2 with the wife tonight. Beautiful wet lips, tall statuesque frame, medium plumpage on top, huge beamish smile that could suck the fake news hate speech and misinformation about my stately schlong in a NY Minute. Who cares if I have to wear a condom later? She’s sexy enough to blast a flood filled load with by dry humping her with jeans on.

Morning After Pill Pitch: Hey babe, can you buy some morning after pills that have been amassing dust on Meghan Mccain’s dresser drawer since 85 on Ebay? I released a liberal size load in blondie last night, but nothing crazy, something more on par with the incoming Freshman class of Kenyon college. Still, pick up a morning after pill, because I don’t want my kid’s 1st image being daddy in a mask like a fake news surgeon with laughable SAT scores for a 50 percent Heeb despite taking the SAT untimed no less. By the time I finished by MATH section alone, my friends already declared their majors Sophomore year in college at Washington University. But seriously babe, who wants our 4th kid to give us grief for never aborting her when you had the chance? Daughter says, “Mom, why would you think I’d be cool with wearing a mask from Pre-K through college while every foaming Anti-Semite on campus gets their panties in a bunch for Israel still not being pushover putzy despite the UN still trying to push otherwise? Plus, according to New York State’s extra loose law, you had 9 months to terminate your unplanned parenthood accident otherwise.”

It’s hard to act excited for your friends deciding to have kids now. What’s the best thing for these kids to look forward to besides Alex Jones becoming president of the United States under the new burning mask party in my wildest edible powered dreams? Alex Jones hires Joe Rogan as his VP. Putin invites Rogan to watch him train for the Judo Olympics in Moscow. As Secretary of State, Dana White raises money for Israel’s new Iron Dome system through a pay-per-view event match between Jared Kushner and the prime minister of Canada, Justin Trudeau, winner takes all of Canada, loser has to sniff Bull Hurley’s armpits from Over The Top till their last dying breath, despite that being considered a win for win for Trudeau after all, assuming, Obama gets to watch from Gitmo after former CIA chief, converted Muslim John Brennan gets to sniff his old pair of sandy, prayer sandles from Martha’s Vineyard for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

What do John Stewart, Pete Davidson and Ben Stiller have to feel good about at Knicks games these days? One, gave us Trevor Noah who nobody loves. Comedy Central executives felt the same way when they decided to renew his contract for the foreseeable future. Pete Davidson gets to get lost in Kim Kardashian’s puss 4 pushed out kids later, Kayne West included. I’m not calling Kayne immature, but losing Kayne to Pete Davidson, the boy toy rebound king of Staten Island is a weak look. I wouldn’t say Kayne is bound to suicide like Owen Wilson after Kate Hudson dumped him for Dax Sheppard but he’s not boasting about his billion dollar-designer sneaker empire to Dave Chapelle with the same big pimping, in vogue strut of yesteryear before he started wearing those freakish Mike Myers masks post COVID is all I’m saying B. Also, didn’t Ben Stiller sell his soul to pimp for Governor Cuomo while gushing about his handsome mug despite looking like The Thing and Mama Fratelli from the Goonies had a baby? Don’t act like you wrote Zoolander or Tropic Thunder all by yourself either Stiller. But at least you don’t look as wormy, smarmy as Noah Baumbach and Jessie Eisenberg’s cross-pollinated baby come to life out of Joni Mitchell’s fake news good snatch, releasing more pretentious, self-righteous airs of superiority, blowing in the wind.

Michael Kornbluth

Deplorable USA

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, entertainment, writing

What do Tour Guides of Delaware say about Biden now? Hair Sniffer Plugs, used to take showers with his daughter here, wherever Corn Pop’s fluffing services weren’t available. What’s inflation? Jill Biden barely scraping by, without any combs or brushes in use since 76. What do you call her hair style exactly? Freeloading ho bag with a townie thrashy twist. But nice fishnet stockings Jill. I bet Jill sucks dick for Bitcoin behind Joe’s back at Hotel Dupont. Jill says, “I’ll suck your untraceable dick. But you look a tad fruity, so put a rubber on. You’ll last longer than Joe at a Brownie sale in Brentwood.” Deplorable USA, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Pulling For Howl Master

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, poetry, writing

Rose Tinted Glasses darken tremendously when your daughter Singing Rose Kornbluth orders you to turn down No Remorse live in France by Metallica with the windows down while dropping the ungrateful bitch off for camp.

Daughter yells, “It’s embarrassing Daddy.” I yell back, “Metallica is the bestselling Metal group of all time. And Lady Gaga’s most rocking moment in her life was singing Moth Into Flame with Metallica at the Grammy awards. For once, she exuded a banger pretty vibe for a change. I got some yum, yum sauce for Gaga to gag on.”

Daughter fights fire with fire. “Whatever you say Dice Man. Meanwhile, nobody cares about Metallica anymore. And Thrash Metal is kind of white trashy Daddy. Do Metallica shirts from the eighties come with a Mullet guarantee at Short Cuts or what?”

I park. As she leaves the car I yell, “K Pop can suck the 4 Horseman’s dick. Plus, Dave Mustaine pisses on Lady Gaga. He wrote Peace Sells But Whose Buying on the walls in some shitbox studio because he couldn’t afford paper. Lady Gaga had to live without what exactly? Madonna’s personal email address for dance pointers on Fame Monster between trying to get Guy Ritchie to drop playing football in his downtime versus playing kick the can with her clit. So stop being such a self-conscious buzz kill.”

Youngest son, otherwise known as Hardcore Hunga Rocks says, “I’m not a self-conscious buzz kill Daddy.”

I reply, “That’s why your All Metal Baby. And your big sis is becoming at one with dour dumpy Baba inside. Effortless Magic is fading on Saint Anger Day.”

Fade to black. Fuck ‘Em All, who can’t take a joke, my daughter included in this instance.

No remorse lives. Pulling For Howl Master, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth