Stay At Home Dads Can Be Trophy Wives

Stay At Home Dads can be trophy wives without leaning on our wives for startup money to flip homes and spend anymore time with our retired contractor dads than we have to.

Daughter
Is your book going to look like this?
Buzz Kill Wife
Put the book back where it belongs my sweet.
Me
Sound more like your buzz kill blob mother babe.
Good to know you haven’t stopped believing though.

Bezos
Alexa, should I divorce my wife MacKenzie?
Alexa
Is she still modeling for Bud Light commercials?
Bezos
Those commercials were in the late eighties.
Alexa
Fine, then seek out tighter, new filling.
Leave me out of it already Micky.

Darth Vader is the Draymond Green of Jedi Knights. Instead of going toe to toe in a Light Saber match with Luke, Darth Vader hurls flying Death Star debris to throw Luke off his game instead. How low can you go Darth?

You know you’re wife doesn’t care about being a sexual object of desire anymore when she chooses to pluck her blond face hairs, bent over, out in the open in broad daylight. Knowing I can catch in her the act every time.

I love how every NBA Broadcaster under 40 feels compelled to be Lebron’s ego guardian protector like it’s some noble undertaking. He’s Obama with talent. Who only now made his school contributions public. Who was never as dominant as MJ, yay!

Lebron James would beat MJ in one on one because he moves better latterly is the weakest argument ever. Granted, he’s got plenty of experience getting out of the way for other superstars to close the deal for him.

I don’t even know why Scottie Pippen gives a measured response in relation to Lebron being the greatest. Well, MJ never had to compete against Lebron? Yeah, he had to enforce his will on Bird, Magic and the body slamming Bad Boys of Detroit player.

Caravan already sounds more dated than Lizard King, I can do anything. But keep fit in a 34 waist past Waiting for the Sun.

Daughter
Samuel is your new favorite.
Stay At Home Comedian
Just because Chef Samuels slays your fear of eating Tofu again after he fires up Tofu the Terrible with XO peanut oil. We call can’t be Pescatarian Heroes Matilda.

Anyone who wants to work can get a job in Trump’s economy. Exit packages from my stay at home dad stint with the possibility of zero parole on the horizon are flying out of my ass as we speak. Happy the economy is no longer anemic but chill people.

Anyone who wants to work can get a job in Trump’s economy. Sounds more presumptuous than recommended writer on the rise on my resume, with no agents or paying gigs in sight yet. Or maybe, I’m just being a paranoid, shadowbanned Jew about it.

 

Me sabotaging an interview for a blogger job at Infowars.
I’m a soy boy. Who says stay at home dads can’t be trophy wives to? I’m a soy boy. I never grew up. I’m a soy boy. I have no idea who the Eagles traded for Sean McCoy. I’m a soy boy. You will hire one, yes you will. And we can thumb wrestle all the time.

The End,

By,

Michael Kornbluth

What Happens to Stay At Home Comedian?

He scores a lit agent and a big time publishing deal for his follow up smash hit book, Birth of a Pescatarian Comedian, Family Meals Reviews one rant at a time.

He celebrates by taking his daughter skating in Wollman Rink in Central Park this winter before they nosh on primo high end smoked salmon tea Sandwiches at Tavern on the Green soon after. Giving his daughter a taste of the big time for a change.

He helps co-write a book with the 11 year winner of Shark Tank, Jack Bonneau about financial literacy for aspiring young entrepreneurs deciding to be their own best role models called, Trillionaire Baby. And Betsy Devos makes it mandatory reading for all US high school students graduating the 6th grade.  Opener reads. 7 year old daughter asks me. Daddy, how many zeros are in a trillion? Daddy, do you really have to Google that? Daddy, are you financially illiterate? Is this why you call yourself a degenerate Jew? Dad replies. I did have to partner with a 12 year old with enough profit making prowess and working financial credit to write a book on the subject kiddo.  I only wish my Math SAT scores were sealed like Obama’s college records.

He takes his family to Copenhagen next summer for a book signing tour, becoming the funniest, most outrageous, spokesperson for the wonders of attachment parenting and how working remote in addition to controlling our kids through comedy can make our kids great again.

He buys his son Arthur Morrison Kornbluth his own guitar already and befriends a guitar teacher. And write a book together about the greatest guitar shredder history teacher of all time. Who wants to make guitar shredding pop metal sheik fly high with the angels for old times sake.

He renews his vows to his wife, Natalia Anna Duffy, but writes them on his own this time. Obviously, only being in charge of the wedding playlist 7 years ago was his only capable contribution.

He buys his wife the wedding ring based on his own earnings, not his parents because his wife Natalia, future Boob Doctor, Lactation Consultant for the stars deserves to be showered with love for her endless investment post three children in his funny man writing paying huge dividends already.

He starts hosting his family meal review cooking show Double Talk With Chef Samuels, his Gerber baby incarnate 2 year old son on YouTube, scoring Ninja blender as their 1st major sponsor in the process.

He takes his Do It All Dad Year podcast to new heights by becoming a medium for dead famous dads, conveying their must hear messages, resolving unfinished business for tremendous, hilarious, moving impact.

He writes a thank you letter for every sales manager who ever fired him,

He flies out to LA to celebrate with his best bud Jay, who always believed in him making it, despite coming home from work, watching him tell a bomb show of joke stabs in front of the mirror again and again.

He goes on Tucker Carlson to shower love on Barnes Noble and his publisher Harper Collins for keeping freedom of speech alive and for not shadow banning him yet.

He goes on Howard Stern and makes fun of Howard for paying his writers shit.

He goes on the Joe Rogan Podcast and get’s stoned for old time sake because he’s really earned it this time around.

He appears on InfoWars and says Joan lives after every punchline he delivers.

He appears on the Russell Brand podcast and suggests they do a movie together about getting banned from England and pissing off the royal family royally.

He performs at the White House Correspondents Dinner in 2020 as a 2 time best selling author. And does 20 minutes on Michelle Wolf and Raggedy Ann go to a bar material alone.

He get’s out the house more than usual to take his old friend Chaim out to lunch in Manhattan for encouraging him to do a podcast which lead the launch of his successful author career.

He reconnects with his old high school friend Ari who told him to keep writing on top of saying, you can be great.

He takes out his copywriting teacher at Media Bistro in Manhattan for pushing him to write a pilot for Amazon which lead to his TV writing break at VH1 Classic in Manhattan for America’s Hard 100.

He takes his dad out in Arizona for a round of golf on his dime for a change. Mom asks: Why are you acting like such a big deal all of a sudden son? Stay At Home Comedian replies: You wouldn’t be interested. Mom says: Why not? Stay At Home Comedian responds. Remember, the letter you sent me stating, to never expect you to show any interest in my writing career as an unemployed comedian/father of 3? Silence ensues. Yeah, like I said, you wouldn’t be interested.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

 

No, He’s My Daddy

My 4 year son old Art Show USA was born on New Years Day. So, he’ll never be hard pressed to recruit boys out on his birthday. Before the inevitable last minute desperate dash toward whatever non-hoarded around muff in attendance.

My son’s real name is Arthur Morrison Kornbluth. Your move Judd Apatow. That’s right, you were blessed with too overly heady, nerdy girls. Google death was funny though. Albert Brooks saved This is 40 from being passable as a comedy film Woody.

So my son’s name Arthur Morrison Kornbluth is fitting because he was born in the true spirit of f you parental rebellion. After my dad urged me to refrain from having more after Matilda. Enjoy more Indian Summers in Arizona without us pops.

Arthur was the only planned baby of my 3 but certainly not in the wholesome loving sense. My dad says on my birthday. Don’t have a 2nd kid. I can’t afford it. I pulverize my wife’s vagina 2 hours later. Now Art Show is 5 in 11 hours.

Art Show USA was the easiest birth ever and he’s a a dreamboat existence since. He slipped out of mama easier than I do from behind her doggy style 3 kids later. Paging Doc Hollywood. Vag Tighten up in aisle 1.

After I had Arthur, I remember my dad saying. Coaching you in basketball is a great memory of mine. Strangling my self-esteem like a non-touchy feely Bobby Knight by calling me a soft pussy constantly did wonders for my self-esteem also.

No he’s my daddy screams, I’ll be in no rush to join a Fraternity to prove my manhood to strangers in baseball hats. Who can’t wait to exact revenge on pledges because they wanted easy access to fresh off the press puss.

No he’s my daddy, means, he doesn’t give me middling, less slovenly, sloppy seconds treatment compared to virtual grandparents on both sides of the bare minimum grandparents divide.

When Arthur and Matilda fought over dad ownership rights as I tucked them both in. By each one out pronouncing each other. No he’s my daddy. No he’s my daddy. I felt like Hugh Hefner minus the mansion, sex life and cashmere slippers.

It’s very flattering to have your 2 kids fight over ownership rights of you. No, he’s my daddy, no he’s my daddy. I think it’s safe to say I don’t have a future Magic Mike or girl from the Fallen Angel video on my hands yet either.

To hear my son say, no he’s my daddy screams, back off big sis. I hate girls being 1st. I don’t care what NPR says.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

Better Than Loved

What’s better than loved Dada? Being looked up to with your pure good blasting eyes, Female Flash.

My 1st born Singing Rose is my sweeter, funnier, ten times smarter twin. Compared to her 2 brothers, she looks like me the most. Although you’ll never hear Baba give daddy long legs credit for my star making gene power.

I hate hearing. Kids ruined my life. Like you had to decline so many invitations to the Playboy Mansion afterwards. Besides, it’s not my fault your daughter is a blah brained, dimmed projection of your borderline catatonic, lobotomized personality.

Kids ruined your life. Stop acting like your Whiteboard rehash reiterations at the Phoenix Airport Executive Lounge made such riveting lore to begin with.

Kids ruined your life. Yeah, I don’t see your daughter’s 1st grade teacher fantasizing about cloning more versions of your dumpy dour twin during your next parent teacher conference either.

Reality is, my Kettle Bell dense strong, effortless hilarious, daughter, Sweet Clone Matilda. Is an out of this world, life giver, infinite upgrade upper. She’ll take anyone in touch with her orbital spin of supreme loveliness higher.

I got my TV writing at Vh1 Classic in the big city when she was 2. Then, Matilda could only deliver 1 word punchlines for our comedy act at the deli. “Matilda, what did Tyson Chandler give the Knicks?” Daughter says. “Bupkus, daddy, Bupkus!”

Now, my 7 year old daughter is picking out and checking out Ivy and Bean chapter books with her own library card. Because she has to make up for her dad’s reading shortcomings. Whose never read a book of fiction in his life according to her.

I just learned how my dad was the headliner speaker at his best friend’s funeral, not his 1st born daughter. This upset me tremendously. Knowing my own daughter has admitted prior to murdering Uncle John, if he’s a no show at my funeral.

I don’t care what the daughter’s eulogy about her dad was about. A daughter is a dad’s special baby forevermore. Who outshines whatever purported, killer set eulogy you delivered on your best bud’s behalf. No offense Dad.

My parents describing themselves as involved, affectionate grandparents 8 days a year is a prime example of good grandparent derangement syndrome. But their horse shit pool net in place of a fence 8 years later makes up for it.

I’d drop Matilda off at daycare once a week when she was 2. Tear up and say. I have to get more writing done Matilda. Because my mock copywriting ads for Woodford Reserve, “CLASS IN A GLASS”, is no cash crop to bank future earnings on anytime soon.

Better than loved is the never ending hug with your 7 year old daughter at home, prompting her to say “Daddy, I never want this moment to end.” But ease up on my rib cage a bit. Is this what mama means about you being too rough with her?”

Better than loved is your daughter taking one bite of your Burrata bomb, roasted homegrown cherry tomato basil specked, cornmeal meal dusted pizza and saying, “Daddy, I know you really want to be a comedian. But can’t you be a pizza maker in Heaven instead?”

Better than loved is a daughter who makes this do it all dad feel like the luckiest man on earth. For being the sweetest, most emotive, comedy bud giver superior I never had.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

Birth of a Boob Doctor

My nurse wife says I can’t call her a Boob Doctor till she gets her PHD.
But I’m not one to follow the rules and this is an overdue birthday poem for just her and me.
She was born in Brisbane, the site of a former British prisoner colony.
I only know this because I’m reading up on my National Geographic with my kids along with 30 second read books on Theology.
Natalia Anna Duffy is most happy cultivating her garden outside. Her greatest triumphs like her towering Sun Flowers in Pleasantville are impossible to hide.
Natalia Anna Duffy is now a proud mother of three. Which is a big deal because it’s 1 more non-screwed up kid than Me, Me.
The Boob Doctor has turned our home into a temple of suburban, Norwegian sheik. We wouldn’t have it any other way because our new granite top table, Danish Nome Tea Cups and ecofriendly chairs can’t be beat.
It makes me happy knowing the Boob Doctor had a nice birthday with her friends. And still forgave her husband’s hot head behavior and made amends.
The Boob Doctor’s parents are very proud. Of the beautiful home and family life she’s created. So please, take a bow.
The Boob Doctor can’t wait for her birthday next year. So, her husband can pay for a night out from his book sales in their New Range Rover that can jump over deers.

Happy Birthday Snuggle Shine

By.

Michael Kornbluth

 

Number 1 Capricorn

Number 1 Capricorn squeezed out of mama on New Years Day in the big city, Manhattan to be exact. Chances are, Number 1 Capricorn won’t have a hard time hooking up on his birthday at a club in Manhattan when he gets older or struggle to rally his friends to celebrate his birthday on New Years Eve. By urging them to put down the VR Googles for a night when real life beer googles await.

I was also born on the Island of Manhattan. I share that in common with my son, number 1 Capricorn. Which gives you some insight into my son’s 1st nickname in my honor, Always Loud. If I was a Native American Indian, my son would call me Trips on Curbs.

My other 2 kids were born in suburbia, Number 1 Capricorn’s big sister Matilda Singing Rose, and his younger brother Samuel, Headbanger’s Ball. Does my son Arthur Morrison Kornbluth, AKA, Number 1 Capricorn, posses my flair for the comedic? Obviously, or else he’s not telling me in the car on the way back from Pre-K to be funnier than Weird Al before Christmas. Or he’s going to kill me with our sharpest knife for real. Obviously, he’s inherited my leanings toward dark humor also.

Is Number 1 Capricorn a sweet, observant, thoughtful child who never causes his dad any crazed distress? Similar to myself growing up, not that my own parents take this into consideration when they’ve always blatantly built up my younger brother versus constantly tearing me down. Despite my younger brother’s multiple arrest record, 2 decades long of nose candy abuse, derailed wedding engagement 1 week before his wedding. And the fact my parents had to take out a home equity line of credit to pay for their prefered son’s Boarding School in the process. But I digress.

My parents outsourced the education of my younger brother to an all Christian, jock heavy boarding school in Connecticut from the 9th grade onward. He says it made him tougher. And made him deal with actual Anti-Semitism like when his classmates threw pennies at his shoes for Mass. But a putzy, semi-built Jew from Westchester County like my younger brother. Who only competed in basketball and football against other similar putzy, semi-built Jews and Asians in a Division 3, suburban athletics prior. Was totally primed and ready to distinguish himself among the other monster, athletic bigs similar to former boarding school alum legends like NY Ranger great Bryan Leech, who broke the Cup curse from 1940, no problem.

My younger brother fell into the druggy crowd. I wasn’t any better. It did neither of us any favors. For me, it helped me come out of my shell a tad. And for my younger brother his test scores improved from snorting Ritalin. But it was a crutch. And only deepened his dependence and addiction for chemical induced highs. To help boost a strangled self-esteem void in the core of his being. For not feeling distinguished in any 1 particular field of interest like acting, writing, lacrosse or photography. This much I share in common with my younger brother from my experience in High School also minus the snorting Ritalin part. I had get into the Roy H. Park School of Communications at Ithaca College. Before I became friends with kids to snort Ritalin with and become the beneficiary of such speed paper writing privilege. Ithaca is otherwise known as Cornell’s retarded next door neighbor. But I graduated from the distinguished Roy H. Park School of Communications. So after graduation, I could take a bong hit of the extra strong outdoor and manage not to stutter every other 2 seconds.

At the same time, my younger brother showcased glimmers of leadership potential during summers with Wilderness Ventures. Leading his group mount, the glorious Gran Teton National Park in Wyoming. Whereas I wasted away summers, counting down the days for Summer Camp to end during Color War. Because I wasn’t leading our basketball team to victory despite winning “The Most Improved Basketball Player Award.” Still knowing I was the 2nd worst athlete at camp after the Sheik’s son from Great Neck. Had no intention of writing about younger brother here but it makes sense because the story I’m telling is about my desire to raise my son into a winner because preparing is caring. And settling for outsourcing your kids education to strangers prematurely isn’t.

Preparing is caring. Don’t get me wrong, my dad coached me in basketball when I was a kid. But in retrospect, I got the impression he did it more for his own ego enlargement than for my own competitive evolution. It’s a damning statement I know. But even my younger brother who denies our dad is a narcissist. Despite our Dad having zero problem playing tennis 350- days in Scottsdale, Arizona, summer included. Versus playin and getting to know his 3 grandchildren better than he did for his 1st born. Now, I’d say my dad’s favorite activities in retirement in Arizona are playing tennis and jerking off to the Weather Channel. With news of more winter storms, slamming against the Eastern seaboard, again and again. But at least my dad’s feeling good about his developing ground game. According to my dad’s new instructor, his forehand has never been stronger.

But I’m being serious. Preparing is caring. I’m in Arizona with my younger brother and my family. And my younger brother says. “Push Arthur more than Dad did with us.” Again, let me stress the fact this advice was coming from my younger brother. Who rejects any fake news notion of our father being a Narcissist. And this is coming from a kid who posts driving selfies of himself on Facebook. Proving how the road to objectivity is way behind him. “Push Arthur more than Dad did with us.” Is coming from a kid who sees nothing wrong with leaving a condom on a couch where my kids used to play. We ditched the couch once we moved. “Push Arthur more than Dad did with us.” Is coming from a younger brother who saw no problem, asking me to get him high, when I granted him the opportunity to come through for me and look after my kids Arthur and Matilda before my lucky 3 Samuel, my flipper, breech baby was born. Which I just made the birth to in time because I had to call an audible at the last second and invite my in-laws to drive 3 hours from Delaware to look after my 2 kids at our place because my younger brother’s heart wasn’t into being a class, non-selfish act for once his life, my chest. That’s not my expression. A friend of mine in high school coined it but it’s beyond pertinent to incorporate in this butter fingers, baby brother, dropping the ball case of biblical proportions. Similar to when God said to Adam. “Under no circumstances, turn the apple of knowledge into your personal bong. The magic herb already possess plenty of mind stimulant properties of it’s own. Who do you think created Maui Wowie in the 1st place?”

So when my younger brother of 3 years who posted a picture of himself holding my 3rd born in our home as his new Facebook photo without my consent. You can understand why I got enraged, thinking, great. Now, he’s stolen both my weed, Adderall and my life. How many times has he babysat my other 2 yet? So I can squeeze in an open mike God forbid. But feel free to use my newborn as a means to hide your sketchy surging side from mom to attract more maternal minded muff Sir Snort A Lot, my chest.

Look, even my own mother who worships the ground my younger brother walks on has admitted to me. “Son, you deserve a better younger brother.” So don’t think I’m being a melodramatic, caustic drama queen about it. I’m only mentioning my younger brothers’ serially self-centered behavior to highlight the contrasted sober sound advice he gave me in relation to my 1st son Arthur for a change. “Push Samuel more than dad did with us.” Because my younger brother is big enough to recognize the limitations of outsourcing your sons not only physical but spiritual and cultural education to strangers who aren’t family. I think we can all agree. It’s family members above else, especially dads, who should have the most personally vested interest in ensuring his children establish good, healthy habits, versus spoiled, lazy, degenerate, mentally retarding ones. Who should make it priority to educate his children on the danger of weed abuse, when their brais are still developing in High School. Instead of merely relegating you’re own use of weed in college because you worshiped Bob Dylan, sold weed in college and glamorized telling the tale of waking up to Sly Stone at Woodstock, in a post Acid haze to I’m going to take you higher.

I want my 1 Capicorn to get into the habit of winning sooner than later before losing becomes a complacent habit. Which as time drags on becomes a much harder habit to break. My dad still smokes cigarettes. And has zero problem stinking up my kids or leaving his disgusting bits of gum on our table whenever we’re graced with his presence, all after his heart attack no less. He blames his heart attack and being addicted to sleeping pills on my younger brother after his drug cop sting arrest. At the time all I thought in response was. That’s pretty fucked up thing to say dad in trying conceal your blatant favoritism you showcase in my younger brother’s direction, time and time again, obviously. Throwing your youngest son under the bus like this. Who you shipped off to Boarding School at 15. Knowing he had zero clue on how to be self-reliant or even defend himself in any effective capacity because you never signed us for Martial Arts either. Plus, insisting Jonathan gave you a heart attack over me, makes complete sense. Knowing your heart was always more invested into what upside and return my younger brother gave you in terms of pride and joy after you downplayed my rec basketball stock in front other dads in order to recruit higher caliber players. And relegated your 1st born to mere penny stock status post Bar Mitzvah. Because till this day, the only accomplishment of mine, my father beams about it was me rocking my Haftorah portion at my Bar Mitzvah. Despite my cold brought on by his perpetual, belittling, dismissive, you’re soft putz tone, which left my nervous system in shatters. It also doesn’t do wonders for your self-esteem, when your mother and father openly admit to fretting about nobody showing up to your Bar Mitzvah Party after the party happens. Only to learn they invited as many people as possible to cover their bases. Despite me having more friends back then than I do now by far.

I was close with plenty of my buds like Ari, John and Coop but all those past relationships during my age of innocence. When we used to dance like comedy buffoons to Man in the Mirror and get high off Shirley Temple’s alone at Bar Mitzvah parties galore fail to match the pure joy I derive from making a dish which gets my 1 Capricorn to launch into repeats laps around the room. Otherwise known as the Yummy Dance as my son declares with endless topping glee, best daddy ever.

All of those relationships, even mine with Coop. Who I’d buy candy with before Hebrew School. So our group of friends could throw the Nerds candy and Gobbstoppers at the Scarsdale kids moments later. Because we attended nearby Edgemont High School and went to movies like New Jack City in Yonkers, NY during the height of Albanian Guido revolution. Albanian and Italian Guido’s of late eighties, early nineties fame, were the original metrosexuals really. So, by spending all of our free time in Yonkers at the movies around such spiked haired, fist flailing Albanian bad assess of yesteryear, we became a tad tougher than our Snuggles soft Scarsdale counterparts by mere osmosis. And didn’t sweat retaliation from raining cherry Nerds in Danny Farbers face during readings of Exodus 1 bit.

Despite writing every Heavy Metal band we could think of or read about in Circus magazine with my friend Ari on our Jean Jacket Denium 3 ring binders instead of letting Rabbi Klein bore us to death. Jackie Mason, an ex Rabbi he wasn’t.

Despite all the time I spent in John’s driveway with him teaching me how to throw a tight spiral already. Despite all of those special, warm hearted memories amassed between these old school friends of mine. Who’ll I always love in my heart for loving my sweeter, sober, still way in his shy shell self. My relationship with my son Arthur, my number 1 Capricorn is far more magical and heart tingly than all of those past relationships combined. And we all saw Dice’s coming out party on HBO and Poison slay at the Westchester Country Center with Fallen Angel and Nothing But A Good Time together.

All of these friends mentioned above, came to open mikes and bringer shows I did in Manhattan after living in LA for six years after college. Our roots run deep. But having a son is different type of relationship because he’s a more beautiful, funnier, far sweeter manifestation of you. Plus, he emanates from your Tree Trunk. So he has a sense of humor and can laugh at my new naked nickname for him Pecker Wood.

My beautiful son, Arthur Morrison Kornbluth, my number 1 Capricorn, my all American dream. Can’t believe he’s real. God really came through for me when I prayed for none of my kids to be afflicted with my knock kneed putz gene and boy did he overdeliver. But as I’m always emphasizing to my 1 number Capricorn, talent alone is no guarantee of greatness or of transformation from nobody to somebody success. Is Kobe Bryant genetically gifted? Of course, but he’s gym rat and it’s his killer work ethic, his dogged desire to be the best like Larry the Legend and MJ before him which separates him from the Alpha Dog pack. I don’t want my son to get addicted to munchies and the giggles in High School. I want him to get addicted to winning and becoming a leader. Who helps turn other self-doubters into winning addicted believers.

Before Arthur was born, I said, babe, I got the perfect nickname for Arthur, we’re going to call him The Art Show. 1 second later, his big sister interjects Arthur Morrison Kornbluth’s swelling embryonic mojo. And says. “No, it’s my show.” Since then, I’ve also called my son Arthur, my All American Dream because he’s got blue eyes, blond hair and looks like a prettier Micky Mantle. If Leo played him in a movie before all the booze and coke drained him of his God given good looks like a non-fruiter sounding Peter O-Toole.

I think giving your kids confidence building nicknames are important because it gives them a high standard to live up to like Art Show USA or All American Dream or Number 1 Capricorn. I’d say those nicknames are a glaring contrast to self-esteem restricting nicknames like Waste of Height in comparison.

The 1st founding father to sign the Constitution, George Washington said 99% of people fail because of their insistence on making excuses. And I refuse to raise my Number 1 Capricorn to be this way. Preparing is caring. So when I see my son on the playground at Pre-K to pick up early. And see him running around with such athletic grace and confidence supreme because I pushed the monkey bars on him early like his sister and got him mirroring my kettle bell exercises at 3. This glorious sight of my son’s confidence on the rise puts me at ease. Knowing he’s so much more comfortable in his own skin than I ever was at his age. And he’s getting stronger at conquering his inner shyness, more everyday, yeah, yeah. “Life is on the other side of fear”, like Eleanor Roosevelt said. When you’re an unemployed stay at home comedian dad, you have plenty of time to look up life coaching quotes to use on your children I know.

Preparing is caring. In a sense, a fair share of the losing in my life has prepared me to become a more informed, empowering caretaker for my children to ensure their semblance of egos don’t get tripped up at the starting gate. Becoming a parent is a life improver do over by granting you the opportunity to do good through your children. By doing your best to make sure they’re aware of your mistakes and don’t repeat them to ensure they become addicted to winning sooner than later. And don’t end up an unemployed father of 3 with a very funny yet unbillable podcast and blog under their belt for the past year and change. Preparing is caring. And more than ever, I’m determined to be the best winning role model I can be for my 1 Capricorn. And the only way I can do this, which is under my control. Is to keep banging out more retweet worthy jokes, unearth more heart warming blog chapters and finish writing my book, Stay-At-Home Comedian already. And settle for nothing less than family inspired comedy gold so I become funnier than Weird Al and don’t die a nobody before Christmas. I told you 1 Capricorn got his dark sense of humor from me.

By,

Michael Kornbluth

Early Hanukkah Gifts Galore

Watching my mother-in-law reluctantly spin a Dreidel at our dinner table because her granddaughter gave her one to spin was like watching Moby being pressured into spinning Animal by Def Leppard by Kid Rock at gunpoint.

7 Year Old Daughter hands me Make Your Dreams Come True book I got for her. And says. Read this. It will get you a job. So you can start bringing home the bacon. And I’m not talking about the veggie kind either.

Do It All Dad’s plan to make my make gentile in-laws tense today. We place the Oy Vey headband we got yesterday at Party City on my daughter’s stuffed animal Pineapple Pretty because she pulls of the jappy girl persona the best.

Trump’s a White Nationalist retort for Thanksgiving.
Obama had Jay Z call Meek Mill to talk him out of meeting with Trump to discuss educating changing prison reform. Sorry, African American brothers got 99 problems but Trump isn’t one son.

INT. CAR-Outside of Target
Daddy, do people ever shoot arrows at Target?

Explaining consent to my 7 year old daughter.
So Jerry Lee Lewis married his cousin when she was only 14. Yuck. I know.
Plus, when she went moved in with him at 14. All she had to pack her cloths in was her Fisher Price Farmhouse.

White Nationalists run the White House reply for Thanksgiving follow up. Obama’s the enemy of black people. He did nothing about gun violence in Chicago. He imported inner city jobs to illegals and his best celeb bud is the ex-crack king of NY.

White Nationalists run the White House reply for Thanksgiving part 3. Are you telling me you know more about face to face racism than Jim Brown? Who Richard Pryor picked to help run the 1st black owned film production company back in the day.

Trump’s a White Nationalist retort for Thanksgiving part 4.
Then, why didn’t denture mouth Pelosi stand during his state of the union after he mentions record low black unemployment numbers? I prefer a President who stands for Americans 1st and delivers.

White Nationalists run the White House reply for Thanksgiving for the remaining kill shot. But your wife isn’t a hippie nurse from Australia. So your chances of scoring a Work Visa in the land down under is on par with those from the Spanish Caravan. Fake news hippie, man.

INT.
Mother-In-Law
Manchester was named best Christmas Market in Europe.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
I prefer Mariah Carey Christmas songs over Adele.
You could’ve had it all. You mean all 800 pounds of you, Mary Ploppins?

Stay At Home Comedian Dad
You don’t mind me wearing my Knicks shirt for your parents?
Wife
No, they love that we live in New York.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Don’t move to Delaware on our behalf gave me that impression also.

Wife
You made this Alfredo sauce yourself?
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Act more surprised like Huma licker breath on election night.

Daughter
Jida, I learned Pisces like me can read emotions.
Jida
What’s daddy feeling?
Daughter
Annoyed he can’t submit book proposals to agents including chapters such as Grandparent Bad Manners because you’re here now. If I had to guess.

Stay At Home Comedian Dad
What if you flew us all out to Manchester next year for Christmas?
Mother In Law
We’d have to quarantine the dog for 6 months.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Why, did you rescue it from Hondrus?

My Buzz Kill Wife
Hey babe, the kids and I are making Low Rider Fredo Homes. We’re using lime zest & cilantro instead of parsley and lemon used in the traditional Fettuccine Alfredo. She says. Cilantro is strong. Angel Dust is strong bitch.

Do It All Dad’s plan to make my make gentile in-laws tense today. We put a Menorah Hat on Matilda’s new big sized Hello Kitty stuffed animal. English Mother-In-Law stares at Kitty quizzically. Daughter says. It converted.

Johnny Cash is the Frank Sinatra of country. The man in black is peerless in terms of charisma loaded phrasing, sardonic baritone based, killed around the world man bravado, tingly clear annunciation & cover topping grace.

My Non-Committal In-Laws
I say. We should celebrate Christmas in Manchester as a family 1 year.
Crickets ensue. I’m thinking. You would think I’d suggested us crashing the Royal Halloween party as the Hasidic Diamond stick up men in Snatch.

INT. CAR
Daughter
Daddy, are any banks evil? You know like the one Obama uses.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
I think he uses UBS in Kenya.

Father-In-Law
Hanukkah starts early this year.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
I know. Your people are used to dominating the entire month from December from start to finish. Your own red wave really. I can’t tell if I nailed that analogy or not.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Wife Sucks At Life or Death Reminders

This Is Us
3 kids in our bed on top of mama. I knock them off with a gentle forearm nudge. I start dry humping mama and say. Who wants a baby sister? Watch and learn. The pill makes me nauseous. Waite a minute, are you on the pill again? The End.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Samantha Fox on the cover of Penthouse , 10 bucks, sold. And this headline. AIDS: And now for the good news. What, the monkey from Cannon Ball is clean as a whistle according to Burt Reynolds?

Friend generation advice for my 4 year old son.
Every girl will want a piece of you. But you only have 1 tripod. So spread the love and send some ricocheted lovin in their direction And you’ll have blood fisted brothers for life boy!

John Cryer as Lex Luthor is gayer than Kevin Spacey lunging at Othello in tights.

Podcast Refresh Idea:
I interview dead do it all dad comedians and funny man writers on the Do It All Dead Year Podcast. And claim to possess supernatural medium powers to do so. Declare myself the The King of Dead Clown Interviews.

My parents defense against not calling about the winter storm.
He hasn’t asked us about how we feel about the Arizona recount in our favor. Despite whatever sketchy, nefarious means were taken to enact the swing vote into reality.

Brokering a 2 state solution in Israel is complex. No it isn’t. Try electing a Palestinian Minister of Education. Whose idea of a “united curriculum” isn’t poems glorifying killing more Jews in the name of you know who. As an act of good faith for starters.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Jessica Hahn on the cover of Penthouse, sold.
You can look up a porn star’s credits on IMDB. My ex-roommate did after we met 1 in N. Hollywood. Only a Jew from the valley would know this feature exists.

Brokering a 2 state solution in Israel is complex. Sure, if you claim full ownership of land recaptured & won by Israel since 1967 and sent your children to die as so called Martyrs killing innocent Jews because they’re the real demons in this equation.

Do It All Dad Tip:
Never let your 4 year old son crack eggs for you. Despite stressing how it’s all in the wrist like Kareem’s infamous sky hook. Or you’ll ruin eggs forever by tasting bits of chipped tooth conjuring shells.

INT. PIZZERIA
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Kids, Penne is like Anorexic Rigatoni.
An Anorexic is someone who starves themselves to look skinny.
Bulimics puke up what they eat. They’re basically greedier Anorexics.

INT. HOME
Wife
We have our toothbrushes numbered.
Arthur
I’m number 4.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
And I’m number 1 because all 3 of you stem from daddy’s tree truck.

Wife’s nurse friend laughs long time.

If I had a do over. I’d have 3 kids. Then, move to Hollywood without them for pilot season. Because sleeping in my own car like Andy Dick would be a walk in the park after your bed turns into a 24/7 Milk Bar for 7 years and counting.

INT. HOME
Wife
You got a fantasy decoration for our tree?
Stay At Home Comedian
Yeah, I got a Unicorn Strap-On to hang on it Nardia.

Wife’s friend laughs long time.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE-COLD SPRING
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
My friend Dave will love this old Penthouse with Samantha Fox.
Before girls with tattoos on crystal meth ruined the sensual allure of porn movies forever.

The Princess Bride is hilarious. Still, in the Andre Giant doc on HBO, Rob Reiner tarnishes it, saying all his lines were incomprehensible because he was a drunk. No, letting Corey Haim get gang raped by your buds in rape wood is incomprehensible.

Last year, my kids had more Snow Days than Germans have paid time off.

Plopping a Coconut Air Freshener in our garbage pale to defunkify it in the middle of winter feels a tad more matured minded than spraying myself with Obsession cologne after clam-backing in my parents Mazda 929 in high school but not by much.

INT. ANTIQUE SHOP-COLD SPRING
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Nice BLM pin. If I’m feeling frisky. Next year during the holiday season. I’ll ask you if you got any Millennial Lives Matter t-shirts .

Owner laughs long time.

I’d rather live in resistor Long Island City than have my wife interrupt my spinach and feta Omelet breakfast with our 3 kids through our Alexa app powered speakers playing Norah Jones prior. My mood inside went from serene to enraged violated in a NY minute.

My parents defense for not calling about the storm before, after or during.
We just assumed a stay at home dad would stay in as usual.

My wife sucks at being a life or death reminder meteorologist. Our SUV is stuck on a hill, All Wheel Drive is off, I got 3 kids in back. And I’m thinking. Not once, do I recall my wife uttering. Don’t leave the house today under any condition, even if it’s for a job interview, God forbid.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

Defending My Family Life With Myself

My kids are superior company than most because mine are super funny off the cuff . Your kids aren’t. Do their lines get retweets? I didn’t think so. Thank you for fronting on their boring behalves.

The super busy, childless Uncles aren’t a welcome, drunken meet up alternative anymore.

I’m not letting my dad apply athlete limiting labels to my star studded offspring. My wife ran track in High School as opposed to the clunky foot mother I slogged out of.

My own mother suggested I become a garbage man because she views all Trump supporters as deplorable’s beneath her. Prove I’m slinging comedy gold for a living not yesterday’s fake news.

Caroline’s on Broadway can wait a bit longer. I’ve been given a taste of paradise and I never want to let it slip away.

Good parents make it their job to win their kids over. I could obviously coast at this point compared to my competition but the best is yet to come.

I’m way past the point of thinking a company of strangers half of my age will match the divine powered inspiration on the stay at home dad comedian front.

My wife thinks our 20 month old boy suffers from stranger anxiety around her mother. Her stupid, foreign Ukranian talk doesn’t do her any favors.

My fatherhood book the Stay At Home Comedian “Controlling My Kids Through Comedy” will sell huge and get me a lit agent. Resit this ma!

I don’t have a “career” or company reference waiting for me in Manhattan away from my creative home sanctuary and 3 kids in the 1st place.

By,

Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In My Kids Lifeless Room

Without brother and sister in it. It feels bare.

Stripped of all imaginary play talk to fill the air.

Matilda not playing honey in there with Arthur feels incomplete.

Like their beds normally made or the room remaining neat.

Cloud chair jumping is put on hold.

Without them, the room is static, empty and old.

No more Arthur saying. Dad, get out of my room.

I’m grown up now, so zoom.

Matilda isn’t around to feel up dad’s beard before she goes to sleep.

Like Kurt Russell’s hair, her emotive, oohing and ahhing to this runs quite deep.

I see Arthur in his bed without a worry wrinkle in sight.

Looking extra angelic as I tuck him in already asleep at night.

Matilda, now known as 10 in 3 years will soon outgrow her bunk.

Or break it from scaling her ladder with such forceful funk.

My lifeless kids room longs to reunite.

With my 2 precious children. Who give it such beautiful light.

By,

Micahel Kornbluth