Do It All Dad unmasks the birth of a Hair Metal Comedian.
Do It All Dad unmasks the birth of a Hair Metal Comedian.
New comedy career launching plan of attack: Get Jon Stewart a recording of my upcoming comedy record Burning Mask Party or more elongated book version United We Laugh. And stockpile all my primo antisemitism is so hot right now material up front. The Jewish, far funnier Carson will lick it up like Dave Attell’s take on Scottie Pippen’s new brand of bourbon called Digits. What was Scottie Pippen thinking calling his line of bourbon Digits? R Kelly doesn’t do digits. Everybody knows there’s no digit grabbing in Grooming Club. David Fincher lives, holla. Thank you very much.
I’ve finally reached peace with it. Springsteen get’s a pass for being a fake news do gooder for campaigning for you know who. She should be in shankles and Trump’s nickname for her on the down low is Hillary Hammer Time Cankles. Which reminds me to tell you about how my new Trump voiced GPS system always takes me to a happier place. On your far left, is Talking Stick Casino, Elizabeth Warren’s home away from home.
But seriously, Bruce wrote the Rising after 9/11. No other band showed up bigger than the E Street Band after hell on earth ripped apart the most beautiful patch of sky in my universe. Song standouts on the record are endless such as Into the Fire, Waiting On A Sunny Day, Empty Sky, My City In Ruins, and the eternally revitalizing Rising. Bruce didn’t fuck around when he was constructing this divine touched masterpiece with his E Street Band brethren who are New York as much as Jersey, if you know what I’m saying bro. I did extra work on Orange County when I used to live off Hermosa Beach and got introduced to The Wild, The Innocent & E Street Shuffle album which is a legendary record in my book considering how young they were when they made such sublime, original, deeply felt rock and roll magic together from start to finish. The actor who introduced me to the album commended me using my down time between takes, writing consistently unfunny jokes at the time. Good looking dude, looked very tan and healthy, no night scream attacks in sight on his this dude’s horizon. He mentioned how before his neurosurgeon girlfriend and the other brain doctors got to playing Brain God for a living, they’d pop on the ultra atmospheric song New York Serenade from The Wild, and The Innocent E Street Shuffle on their I-Pods to achieve higher cerebral cortex functionality I guess. The Born To Run album is legendary for Jungle Land alone, which is Springsteen’s Layla’s rock opera of his own, that takes place in a fake news Washington Heights. Even Bruce’s work post E Street Band on Tunnel Of Love is packed with emotionally loaded lift on songs such as Tougher Than Rest. Bruce has never sounded more grown up cooler dapper than Dylan than he does on this soul sticking sear.
I sang Born In The USA for a Karaoke one night, post 9/11 while never performing it prior. I knew it was an anti-Vietnam song. Still, I connected to the distraught feelings in the song more than ever, especially after the 2 towers went down in “my city” as Walt Whitman described his cherished concreate jungle back in the day. I’m glad Broadway is back. Bruce can draw a crowd in the middle of a real life plague. God bless Bruce and The E Street Band. I’m just down about the possibility of “my city” losing it’s lead spark dream power that drives our God blessed land of hopes and dreams. At least for me it does, because I’m a native New Yorker and think the world should revolve around our opinions, especially mine. New York humor, got to love it. For example, as a token of my appreciation I made my producer boss at Vh1 Classic responsible for hooking me up with my 1st TV writing gig, which was 12 years in the making a Bruce Springsteen mix, because he’s from New Jersey to. Although, when I gave him the mix in person, I made it clear, “This doesn’t mean, I have a crush on you boss.”
The mother responsible for her son developing a near crippling neck condition that required corrective surgery at 2, called Torticollis, where the neck muscles contract causing the head to twist to one side as a result from too much newborn plopping time alone the crib, summoned the gaul to ask her son, whose about to turn 50 years old in his new Victorian Mansion home outside of Saratoga, NY lounging on a money Polo Lounge green Adirondack Chair, overlooking Lake George, “Why would you push your son into Fencing?” The Torticollis Survivor Son says, “Because the sport of fencing needs a metal edge. And your grandson, “Headbangers Baller is just the kid to do it. Plus, Christian Knights slayed Jews and Muslims for centuries because they didn’t wear crosses around their neck. So, it’s time to rock those Limey bastards on their ass like they just got hit by an American made Twister from Kansas City in the shape of Charlie Parker with the colossus wind power to match. Bruce Dickenson, the lead singer of Iron Maiden is a championship fencer yet his nerdy hued, Dungeons and Dragons stylings are no match more for my son’s budding Headbanger Baller Edge. I want my son to be the most famous American fencer who ever lived, who graces the cover of Rolling Stone and Sports Illustrated all at the same time. I envision my son becoming the dreamy child offshoot of John Belushi, Charles Bukowski and Slash wrapped into one. He’ll shred every fencer record to pieces and tear more than his share of hymens in the process. Assuming he identifies with highly addictive heterosexuality puss plowing play. Force =Mass x Acceleration and becoming a world class championship shredder will make my son an indominable force within the business world when he opens his own hair metal shredder fencing line which will be recession proof, because we’re all going to be stuck wearing nappies on our face in post COVID universe gone wild till our last dying breath anyway.”
The Torticollis Survivor Son adds, “Fencing will be more popular in the US than Basketball and Baseball combined after Headbanger Baller Kornbluth adds windmill celebration dances with his fencing sword, throwing all that old school fencing decorum bullshit out the window. Plus, he’ll be loaded from commercial endorsements from the Guitar Store, Bose, Spandex R Us, you name it, so he could afford to pay any fine for inappropriate, hot dogging behavior whenever the flamboyant showboating moods strikes again. Dana White will be inspired to go into the fencing business and make Headbanger Baller Kornbluth the face behind his new billion-dollar behemoth franchise, transforming Octagon rings into enormous steel cage fencing matches instead. Instead of having Michael Buffer in a tux before Fencing matches, boom, “Let’s get ready to rumble”, Dana White will find the new Cherry Pie girl to announce, “Let the shredding begin”, while Kickstart My Heart by Motely Crue blares on the state-of-the-art surround sound speaker system that gives the steel cage tremors of impending despair. I’d push my son into becoming a WWE Wrestler for a living, yet there will never be another Andrew the Giant, nor is he 3rd generation wrestling royalty like the Rock or have a Canadian hockey player dad like Chris Jericho. So, why not become a big fish in far smaller pond, while making the most humongous splash possible? He also plays with collection of lightsabers now more than he does with his cherished Wrestling figures and he owns the original rubber dog toy size Hulk Hogan and Ricky The Dragon Steamboat among many others with vintage WWF wrestling ring I got off ebay to match. Kayne West is worth 6 billion, mostly from his fashion line of sneakers that sell for 1 grand and up ma yet there’s no limited, in demand fashion line for the flamboyant hair metal shredder in us all. I envision a flashing middle F-You, finger logo that’s sporting the inscription of a Kosher Chalef butcher knife on it that says, “Live To Shred”, to slap on his own line of silver spaceman sneakers, ripped jeans and shorts, obviously in every color imaginable except Slayer Reign In Blood Red. He’ll have his own line of studded, belts, necklaces, metal cowboy hats and tang tops to show off his legions of groupies and adoring young male fans how his own line of core exercise work out videos involving jumping off box jumps through rings of fire as Moth Into Flame by Metallica plays at full blast, being responsible for his shredded physique once he steps into something more comfortable for post fencing fight interviews. I want to feed my son’s love for speed. I want my son to maximize his inherent shredding edge like Buckethead, Randy Rhodes and Steve Vai for love of God, kickass metal guitar solo’s and for his metal loving American Dad who pushed him to shred for bread. On a less poetic, baser level, I want my son to be an all-American athlete who gets a fencing scholarship for being the most rollicking, flamboyant, fencing front man of all time while making the sport less overtly nerdy in the process. I want him to be loved and feared like Sonny in the Bronx Tale mom. I want colleges to recruit him in junior high for fencing scholarships, so he can become a Headbanger Baller in life, instead of being a desperate flailing hounder. That’s why I’m pushing my son into Fencing mom.”
Mom says, “Your father thinks a team sport would be better for our grandson like Football for instance. The Torticollis Survivor Son says, “Will be sticking with Nerf football in yard ma. I also don’t like to take advice from fake news hippies like Dad, mom no offense. You’ve lived in Arizona for 9 years and haven’t visited the Grand Canyon once yet, case closed. Also, dad pushing eventual Pee Wee Football on his grandson is another example of him trying to make me bow down to his authoritative opinion, which makes me think he’s the one with brain trauma from feeding his head with too much acid at Woodstock. Because if I bowed down to this belabored, weak ass pitch command request, I would’ve shied away from doing political material during my speech at my younger brother’s wedding, when I said to his old pal from Boarding School, “Cam from Canada, make yourself at home and hit somebody. So, Jim Carrey can paint you as an alt right goon on the loose in Charlottesville, with a Tiki Torch in hand, looking like an angry rejected extra from the Sears Catalog in 89. And that material killed at the Montreal Comedy Festival in 2022, which got me the agent who got me my movie deal for Back To Hebrew School, which bought this Victorian mansion, wave runners for all 3 of my kids and my speedboat Slashing Thunder.”
Mom says, “Why do you hate me so much?” Son says, “Mom, I just hated how you always tried to shred my ego to pieces and cut me down to size in my divine powered pursuit to become a world-famous comedian author/light spreader shredder, who lives to bang out more sheets of electric fueled comedy gold. I hate your arrogance for thinking you get to tell me how to raise my kids because they’re my kids, not yours, especially after your lack of physical play with me as an infant resulted in my Torticollis correcting surgery, from being left to smoosh my face into the crib out of place for serially unhealthy, prolonged periods of time. I hated the way you always tried to make me feel like I was a crazy moron for trusting my instincts and for pursuing work I was good at, which made me feel most kick ass, happy alive.” Mom says, “I still think fencing is a dumb idea. I bet they only offer 2 fencing scholarships a year max.”
Headbanger Baller won the Olympic Gold in Fencing 3 times in a row, shredding every fencing record in the past. Dana White expanded his business empire to include MMA with fencing swords now, in steel cage Octagons with no protective gear required, although Headbanger Baller preferred to show off his shredding edge in the ring, sporting various items from his billion dollar fashion line of ripped jean shorts, tank tops and speed metal belt with his signature middle finger logo, sporting a ring with a Kosher Chalef butcher knife inscription on it that says, “Live To Shred”.
Shredding rocks, especially when you shred perceptions of what you’re capable of achieving in this world whether it’s through individual accomplishment or through coaching your speed addicted seed or not. Shredder’s soar. Shredder’s fly high with the angels like 3 Guitar Attack from Lynyrd Skynyrd on Free Bird. Shredders makes us feel most alive, for doing the rocking out for us. Shredders inspire us to unleash our own solo edge. Shredders make us feel most alive, because they put us in touch with our Sunset Strip strutting, Headbanger Baller inside.