Tag: Fatherhood

Parenting Genius

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

Parent Teacher conference was last night.  I open with, “You know Frank’s Pizzeria in town? Well, Frank just called Samuel our future President. What do you got?” Kindergarten Teacher, Mrs. Rudolph laughs long time. She adds, “He’s such a happy child.” I say, “Funnier dad, happier baby. You want a photo off old man? My son has more happy muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set Growing Pains with Alan Thicke. Controlling our kids with comedy can make our kids great again, my 3 fuss free kids’ 90 percent of time are living proof of it.”

Mrs. Rudolph’s titillated esophagus secretes more laughter to fill the air, which feels like long lasting Lock Jaw Love in return.

Lock Jaw Love lasting, Challah, Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Spoiled Dumb Son

by doitalldadyear, posted in fiction, poetry, writing

Do I believe in Climate Change?

I believe in never warming up to my asshole father.

Especially, after my son asks.

How much do you like Papa?

I say.

He openly questions how were related.

How much would you like him then?

Son says.

Does that mean you want to be an asshole too?

You’re not making any sense again, Moron Jewish Son.

Maybe he questions why your brain is so dumb compared to John Fetterman.

At least John Fetterman had a stroke.

What’s your excuse?

You’re spoiled dumb or just a medium suck son?

Who prepares more mock meat sandwiches that your dad would never eat like your Impossible To Top Cheesesteak.

What’s Impossible Burger meat made from again moron Jewish son?

Pea protein and synthetic enuchry?

Just busting your balls, I mean Nutsy Russells Daddy.

I’m just trying to make you tough because your father never did.

I loved the Sloppy Second Joes you made yesterday with Impossible Burger meat.

That’s named after Hair Plugs Sniffer, who resides in the fake news White House set, right Daddy?

Now write some more jokes for your last comedy record special from home, Spoiled Stupid Son.

At this point, you couldn’t write rotten dumb jokes if you tried.

Spoiled Dumb Son gets spoiled with more blood-on-blood love.

Bon Jovi, New Jersey lives, the beautifully good one, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Punchlines on Fire

by doitalldadyear, posted in Uncategorized

Planned Parenthood has a sex ed book out, In Case You’re Curious. One of the earlier chapters is, Is 12 too young to know I’m bi? Doesn’t that depend on how many puberty blockers you took? So, mom has the gay best friend she never had.

Planned Parenthood also a sex ed book out, In Case You’re Curious. One of the earlier chapters is, Can You Die From Masturbating Too Much? My advice to my kids. It doesn’t hurt trying, after you outgrow your sweaty sex period, which only lasts 3 months max anyway.

Planned Parenthood has a sex ed book out now, called, In Case You’re Curious. Reminds me of my graphic novel Bi-Curious George, for sexually confused hipster spawn reared on Lou Reed records in Bushwick.

Carl Lewis was a vegetarian,, so was Edwin Moses. Still not enough protein? You over the hill, hipster hack.

 

How is the border wall racist Bernie? I didn’t know walls could be accused of hate speech now. Are you calling the wall racist because our US military is building it, despite most of the men in the armed forces being men of color, blowhard breath?  Ban ICE Bernie? Because homeland security, was so weapons of mass destruction years.  Joan lives.

INT. COMEDY CLUB-LONDON

Do It All Dad

How is England considering Jeremy Corbyn as your next Prime Minister? He plugged Hamas on Iranian TV as brothers in arms. And I thought France, Germany and Switzerland were in dire straits.

 

INT. COFFEE SHOP

Random Woman

Does your light-saber light up?

Son

It’s a light-saber.

Do It All Dad

It’s self explanatory babe. Wax your face hair, and maybe my son’s light-saber will brighten up in your presence.

INT. COMEDY CLUB-LONDON

Do It All Dad

The Church of England is so desperate to fill it’s empty seats, some parishes are setting up pop up mini golf outside the Church grounds. I’m sure that move isn’t raising eyebrows, trying to lure kids back into church through mini-golf to drain more balls than Elton John again.

 

 

 

How can you respect the news media knowing they protected the likes of Harvey Hair Clumps Weinstein and Epstein as if their meal tickets depended on it? Despite their insistence on being heroes to the American people, who give Bubba a pass.

 

INT. COMEDY CLUB-LONDON

Do It All Dad

How is England considering Jeremy Corbyn as your next Prime Minister? He called Hamas brothers on Iranian TV the way I call black guys in New York with affection, who love old school Nasty Nas.

 

INT. Home

Jimmy Kimmel

Who cares if ABC didn’t run the Epstein story? Fanatical Trump supporters are the ones more obsessed with pedophilia than the Democrats.

Wife

You don’t want to do stand up in middle America for a living, I get it Jimmy

 

INT. COMEDY CLUB-LONDON

Do It All Dad

Just 1 in 5 people in Britain say the Bible is irrelevant to them. How hard is Ricky Gervais right now? Not even Steve Carrel on the Teli, advertising his latest 100 million blockbuster can bring it down.

 

Jimmy Kimmel tensing. Poll says, herpes can beat Trump in the 2020. In other words, he expects Trump to reemerge triumphant, as a scarring reminder of how limited the powers of introspection are for a hick comic from Vegas. Weird, weak Howard sucks to.

 

It’s an insult to call Greg Giraldo a great roaster. No it isn’t. True standup is a punchline sprint, not a meandering, act out with your hands with no hard punchlines in sight like Dane Cook for the past 15 years and counting. Greg Giraldo was Tommy Hearns.

Michael Kornbluth

Dumb Drunk Daddy

by doitalldadyear, posted in family, health, writing

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

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

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

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

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

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

More pretentious moans of despair continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hanukkah Challah Day Joke:

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

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

Lenny Bruce Lives.

Hannukah Challah Day, Challah.

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

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

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

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

Increased wiggle room can be a deflating experience.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael Kornbluth

Edgy Energy Electric

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, humor, poetry

Book a hair appointment at Kids Style for my 2 sons, AKA, Stud Alerts On the Loose. Over the phone I say,” “Get ready for guaranteed gorgeousness galore. I refuse to send them off to Junior High without a lawyer on their person at all times to hand out pre-poundage consent forms since jerking off post Zoom became our last safety rail left. Older woman can’t help but flirt with my son at the grocery store, which is flattering knowing how my star powered seed emanates from my Do It All Dad Year Tree Trunk. One said, “When you get older, you’ll have 3 girlfriends to juggle.” I said, “If James Woods had this kid’s face, your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.” His older brother, the Sun Butter King of Croton Falls is a dreamy crossbreed between River Phoenix and Kevin Costner despite his Grandfather’s Indian name back on the streets of the Bronx being Trips on Curbs. So, in essence, my son Millionaire By 10, AKA Feather Foot, AKA Art Show USA would be the ideal pin up for Aryan Teen Beat in 4 years, if this picturesque pure blood clone wasn’t contaminated by dad’s dirty jew blood to fuck up the party for Swastika nation. And how stupid looking is the Swastika symbol? I don’t care if it’s a photo shopped Hindu symbol, it still looks like 2 Stick Figures doing a 69 on a see saw, on government grade crystal meth, who made the Nazi’s think they could conquer all of Europe on it, until Eisenhower’s army helped demolish their Master Race theory into the ground, after Jesse Owen’s made those Kraut breath bastards choke on his star dust from afar, like Denzel Washington on the set of Empire. Because deplorable is anyone whose glad Jussie Smollett took a shot. But on the lighter side of things, this is me instructing my son Kosher Klaus Sushi on how to avoid antisemitic backlash at school while teaching his friends how to play to Dreidel at school. “Arthur, when the Dreidel lands on Gimmel, don’t say, “Give me all your money. Because the chosen people control the Federal Reserve and all the banks in the North Pole to.” Challah, thank you very much.

Later, the kid stylist says, “Does your son want a booster seat?” I say, “Does he look like Dr. Gnocchi?” Latino stylist laughs long time, the times are more receptive to edgy energy electric, thank God, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Do It All Dad Talk

by doitalldadyear, posted in blogging, poetry, writing

On Sports:

I want to get HGH for my 46th birthday. Granted, my wife will have less love juice to slurp up on my 47th, which should be a win, win, for both parties involved.

On Sex:

Unless a girl is riding your joystick out of its primary pole position, it’s for the most part, overrated.

On Drugs:

Don’t miss them when I’m off them, including Adderall. Not focusing on the deafening sound of silence on LinkedIn from former high school and college buds after I post one comedy record link post after another helps boost my peace of mind tremendously, knowing what lame brothers in arms they’ve become.

On Friendship:

Either get excited for my comedic mojo rising or shove your measured, begrudging merriment up your ass.

On Love:

Proves whether you pass the give the shit the test or not.

On Sales:

Your drive to sell what you got without the widespread acclaim or go fuck yourself pad in Florida yet, proves whether you make it the mountain top of success of your own accord or rely on Triple AAA to haul your sorry ass over the whatever, whenever, finish line of life.

On Cold Calling:

Converting a cold connection into a warm one only arouses your innermost interest to penetrate more hidden love connections at large.

On Metal:

Speed + Attitude+ Balls+ Wailing Emotion = Soaring Stiffage Inside

On Food:

Make with love or become another take out ordering boring Jew like the rest. My last name is Kornbluth, I know more than you do.

On Family:

Learn to mother yourself better than mom.

On Fatherhood:

God gives kids to only the lonely. Plus, funnier dad, happier baby.

On Flirting:

More fun when you’re married because you exude a far higher don’t give a shit factor.

On Married Women:

My husband is the least sexy, unsolicited for admission on the planet.

On Finance:

Boring fuck wads manage other people’s wealth for a living.

On Real Estate:

Sell any bit of Manhattan for bitcoin while you can.

On Conspiracy Theories:

Alex Jones is smarter than you Mongoloid Moron.

On COVID:

What so called life left do you care about saving since our country sold its soul to the CDC, Big Pharma and China exactly?

On Establishment Media:

Unfunny, boring, fake news deep, anarchy arching, tyranny, enabling, sell out, grossly overrated hacks.

On Big Tech:

The real deal misinformation machine.

On The Supreme Court:

Morally compromised, pompous populated, gun shy pussies in robes.

On the Electoral College:

Billionaires in Beverly Hills are loading up on shotguns now, but their votes matter more after supporting the summer of love to make Trumpy Poo look bad.

On the FBI:

Domestic Terrorist deterrence has gone bye, bye or else they’d shut down big tech for being used as a messaging platform to ensure synchronized smash and grab plots go viral.

Michael Kornbluth

Brisket Mom Beater

by doitalldadyear, posted in poetry, writing

It’s hard to feel like your father hasn’t pronounced you dead in his heart when he doesn’t reply to your text that wishes him Shanah Tovah, which means have a good year in Hebrew. So, God, should I assume that my father’s silence implies he wishes the exact opposite for me? Because I named a sandwich after Mr. Groper in the White House in my book The Koshertarian Comedians, called Sloppy Second Joes. Explaining to my 3 Koshertarian comedian kids last night why I call my turkey meat-based sandwiches on a challah rolls Sloppy Second Joes was priceless. I said, “So you know how daddy does that joke, where I state the question, “Do blind men ever get the beer goggles? Assuming they do, does the Seeing Eye Dog ever offer a second opinion?” Then, I drop on all fours and impersonate the dog and say, “We better pass on this one Stevie. You can feel her face, but I can smell her snatch, woof, woof.” So, beer googles, trick you into thinking someone looks better than they do with the lights on during working hours, who are never being confused with 1st pick material the morning after either.”

Forget election fraud, and massive mail-in ballot cheating on the behalf of Mr. Groper in addition to every chicken shit piece of shit in the media at Fox included, who refused dig into why there’s no reason why Biden could’ve won because his campaign rallies could barely fill out Ariel’s little clam shell bras. Joe Biden is the personification of sloppy seconds. Even Jill Biden was married to Joe Biden’s best friend before she started an affair with aw shucks Joe for Christ’s sake. If Joe Biden loves to ease the financial strain of the middle class in America. Then, Trump’s capable of admissible introspective correction, after his overrated COVID 19 vaccine has been responsible for more blood clots and cases of cardiac arrest than torn condoms at Bill Maher’s Airbnb fuck paid in Rio for Martis Gras, sponsored by his new web hosting site, gotorioforthirdleggedbeauties.com, Challah thank you very much.

Did you know the Federal government is paying hospitals 30 K for every patient they hook up to a ventilator with COVID? But there’s no evidence of hospitals overreporting cases of COVID, despite the CDC now declaring that anyone who dies from the vaccine 2 weeks later is being declared as unvaccinated.  And my old psychic in LA thought my all over the place, far from centered chakras were more clogged than my freshman one hitter. Who are these fucking lightweights being hooked up to ventilators exactly? I’ve been sucking down weed out one hitters made in China for the past 2 decades and my lungs feel, great. Dice lives. Challah, thank you very much.  

And where does the Reformed woke Rabbi from Ridgefield find the gaul to merge COVID and the Holocaust into the same sentence ever? I don’t recall Anne Frank socially distancing herself from Netflix while refusing to add getting gassed to death with her family for a planned 14 Reasons Why addendum sample chapter for her local Dutch publisher, reachable through carrier pigeon only either. I’m assuming this same Rabbi never condemned Eminem for comparing Trump to Hitler. Trump’s the next Hitler? In what, Inglorious Bastards Part 2? Relax Eminem, sequels never live up to the original. Plus, when Trump bought Mar-A-Lago, Trump lifted the lifetime ban on Jewish membership, Slim on Facts Shady.  

Doesn’t Don Lemon realize that trying to socially shame past Trump supporters like myself into getting the COVID Vaccine shot is more pointless than pretending he’s anything less than Jussie Smollett, minus the SAG card?

Anyone that’s been almost completely disowned by his shame cloaked mother and ostracized by past fake news deep friends because they dared to question bullshit narratives such as Obama Be Good, despite him rebranding ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times, has resulted in us mongoloid morons developing rock solid immunity from ever giving 2 flying shits about the opinions of media worshipping whores ever again. Especially after all these Democratic worshiping moralists had no problem with Fox prematurely calling Arizona for Mr. Groper, before the midnight tallies of more trucked in forged mail in votes were even tabulated.  If Biden got more votes than Obama or Trump, then Michelle Obama regretted pissing on the Lincoln Bedroom bathroom ceiling fan moments before Trump’s inauguration ceremony. Only for the Donald to get peed on for real this time from the ceiling fan above and say, “Melania, is this what Michelle meant when she hulk said, then they go low, we aim high.” Challah, thank you very much.

Mail-In Ballots were counted with no records of being sent out. But keep on believing Joe Biden won fair and square or that Jill Biden is a classy 1st lady in fish net stockings and Marshall’s fuck me pumps, with disheveled, molested hair, dressed as if she’s constantly posing for sex ads on Craig’s list under Scarecrow HookersAreUs.

The prayer service also mentioned talk about controlling my lustful heart and eyes. So, I’m assuming using Internet porn sporadically whenever my kids are asleep to squeeze in 5 minutes of Daddy time, is still Kosher in God’s eyes within the era of #Meto, knowing it’s our last safety rail left.

This prayer service could not have been more politized if the woke Rabi tried. It even had a special shout out prayer section for all the medical workers, teachers and government workers still collecting steady paychecks throughout COVID while perpetuating the aura of superiority despite more Martha Dump Trucks dying of suicide this year than from COVID, under their morally grounded, truth suppressing shaming watch. By refusing to condemn masks as more useless protections from losing than the Lakers expecting increased ball movement with the addition of Carmelo Anthony. Who should be the spokesperson for Tampax Tampons already. Name another NBA player, responsible for stopping so much flowage.

Where does this woke breath wussy, Reformed Rabbi in a mask get the balls to blame the COVID virus on Trumpism? 80 million branded racists didn’t help fund the Wuhan lab institute to develop a super spreader virus designed to usher mail-in voting to help steal an election from their chosen commander in chief. I know, I’m being a cult Trump worshipper according to the esteemed Dr. Savage, because the Chinese would never take out its own people to preserve their fledging sense of power. Yeah, and Richard’s Gere’s prayer beads didn’t come out red. Challah, thank you very much.

The most despicable part of this past high holiday season was Biden blatantly lying about visiting the Tree of Life synagogue after the mass murdering rampage that occurred there because the satanic piece of shit responsible for hell on earth hated Trump for being the best friend Israel never had. Who helped usher in numerous peace treaties with neighboring Arab countries by the time Jared Kushner bursts within Ivanka in shear, whenever she talks dirty to him in Mandarin, on his birthday again.  You don’t believe me about Biden being a blatant, plagiarist piece of the shit of the most deplorable, fake news good order? Even the Rabbi for the Tree of Life went on record during an interview with MSNBC, stating, “I’ve never met Joe Biden in my life. Do you think I spend my free time hanging out at Ben and Jerry’s these days? Since they released their new Rocky Road to Peace ice cream fund for Hamas, to build more death tunnels used to kidnap Jewish children for the crime of sharing blood ties to the famed Rothschild family. Who control the Federal Reserve and all the banks in the North Pole to.

To make matters worse, Biden when trying to act like he gives 2 shits about the Jewish people, he couldn’t even remember the name of the Hora dance at his daughter’s wedding, which made it impossible to block out the time my brother-in-law did the same thing at my wedding. After the Hora dance, which includes the chair lifting of the bride and groom, my brother-in-law says, “Let’s give a round of applause for whatever that shit was. I’m Irish, so unless someone gets fall down drunk without the aid of falling off a lifted chair, I’m not interested.”  So much for slow to anger and quick to forgive God. almost 12 years after the fact. Challah, thank you very much.

But famous writer Ayn Rand said, “Patience is always rewarded, and love is always waiting around the corner”, except if you conduct a phone interview with the Director of Talent Acquisition at Fox News. She says, “So, you’ve done a bunch of podcasts and wrote some joke books on fatherhood. How does this work apply to the world of business news on Mornings with Maria?” I say, “For starters, inflation from creating COVID relief money out of thin air for shutting down the world economy to get Trumpy Poo out of office, has made the value of the US dollar a bigger joke than any alleged integrity left in the Supreme Court, which carries less just might these days than the mantra Protect and Serve, since every day became standing down day.” I add, “On a more personalized note, I also like the idea of me getting plenty of ROI from writing monologues for Maria because placing myself inside her, will make fantasy fuck material with my wife on her birthday again a more uplifting experience than ever before.” Challah, thank you very much.

The Torah on Rosh Hashanah does awaken you to new possibilities, such as searching out more conservative synagogues for Yom Kippur, which dupe you into thinking the experience would be more welcoming and less COVID crazed controlled service than the one in Ridgefield, CT, it wasn’t. I came prepared with my mask, a business card in hand and a talked out rehearsed spiel from the car ride over before I got interrogated like the Gestapo for showing up to services without a ticket in advance, God forbid. I say, “I don’t have a ticket, but I did write the Great American Jew Novel. Diane Sullivan from the Midwest Book Review said, “The Great American Jew Novel exceeds in a hilarious New York exploration of the world of comedy and Jewish culture. Plus, I taste way better than Ben Shapiro, Jeff Bezos included, which isn’t chopped liver either.” Still, I’m greeted with, “So why couldn’t you find the time to buy a ticket in advance again?” I say, “Because I’m a degenerate Jew, whose only 3-year plan, is to get my daughter a Wave Runner in 3 years, before her eventual Stay at Home Bat Mitzvah, because it’s impossible to experience any dark, suicidal thoughts on top of a hot pink Wave Runner with a hermetically sealed on mask or not. Daniel Tosh lives. Challah, thank you very much. Plus, I wasn’t planning on coming here initially, until the woke reformed Rabbi in Ridgefield, CT gave a speech that could’ve easily been interpreted as his audition reel as the new reconstructionist, reformed Jewish, resister Rabbi correspondent for MSNBC. You don’t watch that never ending shit show do you Ethel? Well, you don’t have to, to get this impersonation. This is Chris Matthews, sexually harassing his new yenta breath intern from Great Neck, Long Island. Chris Matthews barks, “Eating out Maddow, counts as your lunch break babe.”

Like the Torah commands, I’m done fostering illusions of modern-day Synagogues, both reformed and conservative being immune to this mask cloaked, overhyped COVID driven hysteria one second longer. If Hebrew Schools force my daughter to wear a mask to study Hebrew. Then, I’ll just teach my daughter how to read her Haftorah portion in Hebrew at home and call it day.  It will make a great chapter in my future book Back to Hebrew School, called Bat Mitzvah Cliff Notes, which follows, 3 Year Wave Runner Plan. Challah, thank you very much.

Teaching my daughter her Haftorah portion from home while continuing to promote the Koshertarian diet at home by cooking a bomb brisket mom beater at home, using caramelized Vidalia onions within the Palamino grape sherry sauce will deepen my relationship with Hashem more so than having to endure any more propogandist, scare morning, intentionally divisive bullshit from grave digging woke rabbis at large. Dumping any interest in perpetuating the allure of me embracing the special binding allure of organized prayer into the ground, six feet under, along with Alan Ball’s desire to achieve salvation for his embrace of hell hole sex because going to down on Ethel to taste rotten Gefilte fish never aroused his sustained stiffage interest in the 1st place. Reading mini graphic bible stories for my kids, my made-up historical flash fiction ones like Gimmel Be Good or going over funny Yiddish dictionary words from the Yiddish version of Dick and Jane to my 3 hilarious sweet kids in our bed at home is my sacred space Rabbi. I ask my daughter, “Matilda, what did Tyson Chandler give the Knicks again, before the NBA became a safe space for Lebron James’ ego?” Daughter says, “Boopkus, Daddy, boopkus.”

My kids don’t need to be engaging in speed prayers at synagogue to please God, assuming they never shy away from defending Israel’s right to defend itself. Who refuses to be pushover putzy no more. Because if you fire 5000 rockets into Israel’s backyard UN, then Hamas, who doesn’t do nuance, shouldn’t expect an edible arrangement gift basket in return, with a thank you note written in Farsi.

Controlling our kids with my comedy, can make our kids less hysterical again. Last night, after my daughter got five million flu shots, she got up from bed for feeling bad about making a scene compared to her 2 younger, stoic brothers earlier that day. I calmed her down with comedy immediately, not being on Adderall helped, which I casted into the local river instead of stones like time release sins, which was a 1st for me, knowing God appreciated the gesture because I’ve could’ve sold them to my younger brother for 200 bones on a slow Monday easy. I tell my daughter, “Matilda, you laugh in the face of your brothers whenever they try to pull your hair or punch you with any sort of real deal impactful force. So next time Arthur tries to hurt you, in another ineffectual, fruitless manner, just tell your skinny blondie brother, “Are you done trying to hurt me yet Twiggy?” And my precious bashert daughter laughed long time.

Controlling our kids with comedy, can make our kids great again. My 3 fuss free kids, 90 percent of the time are living proof of it. That’s another way to apply my business minded focus to Mornings with Maria. Lord are you impressed yet? I didn’t disrespect thy father by going off on him for asking me on Yom Kippur if I had broken the fast by a hard 3 already. Despite me being a practicing Koshertarian Comedian this past year while still trying to find a faith-based agent to locate their ball sack to represent my book The Koshertarian Comedians. My divine powered tale about growing closer to God and to my 3 kids through the more yummy dances and laughs I get. Perhaps, this last-minute chapter addition, Brisket Mom Beater, will do the trick. My sons attacked this succulent, thyme and sage twined up, broth rich sweet onion brisket with scrumptious, inhalatory glee. Who needs Philly cheesesteaks? When you can make holy food magic at home that provides my Koshertarian comedian seedlings zero leftover desire to ever flee.   

Michael Kornbluth

Fuck South Park

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, faith, family

I’ve grown to hate the hate symbol police. Unless you’re sporting a Swastika, a Just Vaccinated pin, or Biden Harris sticker on your Volvo station wagon, I’m not interested. Just vaccinated, congratulations. You endorse sanctioned mass murder against your free will if you want to keep your teacher’s job at P.S 666. And a Biden, Harris, sticker doesn’t promote love, outside of sniffing Strawberry’s Shortcake’s hair against her free will again and again.

Spotify just dropped the Obama relationship podcast. Problem was communication issues; the audience couldn’t tell if Barack wanted Michelle to be more like Mike. And drain more balls than Little Nas this coming summer on Fire Island.

I don’t want to forgive anyone who gave my daughter dark, suicidal thoughts at the height of remote learning. Go woke yourself and die from bleeding to death from trying to itch your anal warts off in the process. Your side used COVID as an excuse to push mail in voting and steal an election. Nobody with a functioning brain or spiritually tuned soul can bear one on one time with you anymore, including your own sour puss reflection. COVID disinformation doesn’t kill people, baby boomer arrogance, the CDC, Fuck Face Fauci’s directives, denying hospitals the right to prescribe early stage, alternative treatments, big pharma pushed experimental drugs and federal imposed clot shot mandates did. I’m done, time to enjoy my kids. Enjoy the Nuremberg Trials 2.0, I know I will. Boy oh, boy, will that mark a beautiful day in our neighborhood.

Michael Kornbluth

Flinch Flight Flicker

by doitalldadyear, posted in poetry, psychology, writing

Would you pay the cost of cleaning your weed dealer’s carpet if you puked on it? Especially, after he charged you 50 bucks for a 10 pack of edible gummies and proceeded to spray disinfectant on the floor every 2 seconds knowing most of the puke stayed on the carpet in the 1st place.

I gave up on being an alcoholic to prove I didn’t need AA to take up cigar smoking instead. I was already bad at smoking weed with no feel for hit moderation without coughing up a lung in the process, especially from my metal bat made in Wuhan or from one of those new age Vape Pens that get you bong high by the time you’re done pressing down on the pot oil blast off button past 5 Mississippi, which makes me feel like a retarded Brett Favre who gags on dip instead of spitting it on his Gap Jean Jacket. Nobody wants to pass the blunt my way after I moisten the end of it with my blow job ready clown clips like a broke, closeted Dave Chappelle in white face. Personally, I’m into weed edibles now because Stink Free + Ash Free+ Cough Noise Free=Zero Regrets whenever I’m at home with my 3 kids, living out the sheltered bum existence that I do.

Still, in the past, I liked the taste of good weed from Northern Cal that’s not the sprayed dirt kind from the Bronx that tastes like Windex. So, cigars have never offered me any form of sustainable stiffage because I’d rather inhale whole than blow. Plus, cigars take forever to burn, and I don’t have that many deep thoughts to contemplate for 30 minutes at a time while staring at the moon thinking, “There’s no way Jeff Bezos tastes good, Ben Shapiro included.”

Orthodontist says, “Your daughter will need to be fitted for a new retainer.” I say, “Doc, today I just learned how my daughter is already having conversations with her friends about what age they think they’ll have their first kiss. So, I’m very pro muzzle mask on my daughter all of a sudden, despite recording the comedy record Burning Mask Party Record in July, which didn’t catch on like wildfire the way I envisioned. So do whatever you can to keep her mouth numb with Novocain with an implanted drip on demand that I can control through my smartphone doc. Throw Chelsea Clinton’s retainer on my daughter’s face from 92 for all I care. Making fun of Chelsea is sexist, but she’s not even ugly anymore. Plus, I think Chelsea Handler is a divisive twitter twat to, who claims to be a social justice warrior now to downplay her tit’s rapidly sinking popularity. The worst part about this conversation doc was that her other friends were predicting how they’d kiss a boy for the first time at 16, 17, but predicted my daughter would start kissing boy’s at a hard 12, one year before her Bat Mitzvah through Zoom. I shouldn’t freak out too much, if parents insist kids wear gender fluid, puss face Hello Kitty masks for games of Spin The Bottle. Then, I learn how her best friend already kissed a boy in the 1st grade that was hitting on her constantly prior. Where the fuck does this kid get the confidence to make the 1st move on anything at 6 years old? When I was in the 2nd Grade, I could tell that my second-grade teacher Mrs. Pariso was all over my dick when she’d tell me how much I looked like Elvis, but I didn’t do dick about it either doc. I know my DNA is all over my daughter’s face and I tend to oversexualize everything in my pulsating path. Once, my daughter found a bunch of colored index cards including compliments her mama wrote in my honor for Valentine’s Day once, which included winners such as “I love how you kiss Blondie.” Daughter asks, “Whose Blondie?” I say, “The opening act for the Ramones, next question.” Now, I’m longing for the good old days, when my daughter asked, “Daddy, why didn’t the Tooth Fairy hook me up under my pillow? Doesn’t the Tooth Fairy have Waze? I said, “The Rock slept in for a change, alright.”

The Rock selling his own brand of tequila is a poser move don’t you think doc? You’re from Hawaii first of all, which is known for mixed rum drinks last time I checked. Plus, Turtle bankrolled Avion 15 years ago already. Lebron James culturally appropriated the shit out of a wigger like Turtle and started hocking his own line of Tequila last year. And Sammy Haggar’s been slinging his own brand for years. I hear it tastes Van Halen light, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Holy Time Shines

by doitalldadyear, posted in storytelling, travel, writing

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop thinking kids are an impediment to middle aged fun.

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

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

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

Holy shine time is holy bonding time.

And that’s as good as it gets.

Holy Shine Time shines on.

Watching Hacks Cry.

Lennon lives, Challah.

Thank you very much.



Michael Kornbluth