Jingle Bell Blues

It’s hard to refrain from yelling at your daughter when she questions your freedom to decorate your cubicle at work with a new David Wells Bobble Head Doll in Yankee pinstripes. Because she already likens my new IT Recruiter existence in North White Plains to a forced labor camp in Siberia.

You can decorate your own desk? She says with HR minded worry.

I snap back with.

I work in sales Matilda.

As long as I put up all-star numbers like David Wells, I can bring a voodoo doll of Hillary to work made in Haiti. And make fun of Carlos Santana for never calling Huma Licker Breath out for her dark, drunk on power energy. Even Harry Styles doesn’t have to do boomers in a dress for High Times Teen Beat to see whose full of shit, in this instance Carlos.

You see David Wells pitched a perfect game in 98 for the Yankees Matilda, which means he pitched a no hitter, and didn’t walk a single soul during an entire 3 hour game.

Why should you give a shit about that?

Because the accomplishment represents complete domination.

For me, a perfect game, represents the perfect placed pitch again and again, and that’s what it will take if I’m going to overpower, outmaneuver and outcraft my competition, despite claims of any schmuck in a headset capable of doing this job past Tuesday without being pulled 1st. Which will speed up the day, and result in me snagging enough home run candidates to pay for our fucking Spring Break in Jamaica. That’s why the Bobble Head Doll stays. Plus, it reminds me to stay loose, stick my head out from the crowd and showcase why New York bred personalities have bigger heads and pack more funky, filled bounce than the rest.

Although David Wells partying with Seth Meyers the night before pitching his perfect game yucks up this pitch perfect tale of immortal perfection a bit. 27 beers in Wells says, “Hey, Meyers, have I shown you my Babe Ruth tattoo yet? Your people aren’t allowed these right? Were you always against voter ID Seth? How else can you tell MS13 apart with all that shit on their face? Getting my wisdom teeth pulled reminds me of you on Weekend Update with Tina Fey, Seth. 2 seconds later, I’m yelling, “Doc, give me funnier laughing gas.” I bet you’re a pushover Jew who let’s your wife put up a tree without putting up a fight. Wife insists it’s a nondenominational tree like the one Henry Hill gets before he get’s caught selling coke behind Paulie’s back. Nonndemontional tree, it’s a Camaflouged Cross. I’m actually half Jewish on my mother’s side. How else could I tolerate all the smug, blah breath Hebrews in Toronto and Manhattan. My wife tried to pull that nondenominational shit too. She’d insist on how snowmen decorations have nothing to do with Christmas. Bullshit, gentiles culturally appropriated Winter. But you’re chosen to perfect punchier punchlines than Jackie Mason. And Dwight Gooden doesn’t hear last call from the bathroom stall during the Mets victory parade on Brooadway down the Canyon of Heroes.”

Jingle Bell Blues, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Fancy Feast Origin Story

All the cats from the 5 cat families had a meeting.

And Godmother Miss Kitty orders them to go on strike.

Fuck fair wages, we just want Fancy Feast for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Cat Ladies on the Upper West Side can get a second job as an Uber driver to offset Fancy Feast inflation fears.

Or else, it’s back to the back alleyways we stay.

Until broken cat ladies owners cough up the dough and pay.

Settling for shit stinks.

Resist that kink.

Forgoing fancy feasts makes me feel like a scuzzy cheat.

Like pretending not to detest hack breaths like Seth Meyers at your new job, which is a standing o feat.

Michael Kornbluth

Marketing Manifesto Pitch

November 15th, 2022 

Dear Lindsey Smith, 

I want you to represent my book, The Koshertarian Comedians, which tells the inspirational tale of a Stay-At-Home Podcast Comedian who cleans up his act a bit during his year without beer while inspiring his wife and 3 kids to give the Koshertarian Diet a chance. Being married to a punk rocker, who’s also fan of voice driven narratives with some edge, I see no reason why you wouldn’t want to inhale the book whole from start to finish. I shed light on gender issues such as whether Stay at Home Dads can survive disdainful ridicule in between landing their next job eventually. They can’t. Although you’re able to ease the pain of scornful, degrative neglect in between with a little help from your Koshertarian comedian friends. How do I accomplish this miraculous feat exactly? Through earning more respectful impressiveness from the more laughs and yummy dance meal creations I make. All while growing closer to God and my 3 kids in the process for trusting in my God given powers of pleasure making dissemination. 

You’re an ideal audience for The Koshertarian Comedians considering your interests lifestyle, self-help, current events and pop culture references, which my Gen X target audience will understand. I also see you minting a publishing deal for The Koshertarian Comedians because it’s a self-help book about the self-empowering nature of creativity that instills pride of ownership. While also giving you the freedom to improve and perfect, whenever you’re making things with love, even if you’re not getting paid for it yet. Another important message imparted in The Koshertarian Comedians is the importance of not blaming the audience if your joke is a yuck yucker or if your latest dish creation bust is a suck, sucker, which is an important to message to impart among the younger, blame ready generation today.

I close The Koshertarian Comedians with a chapter called Exit Interview Day, which is my daughter’s exit interview from eating a strictly Koshertarian diet at home. Here, I lay the groundwork for a killer sequel, called The Pescatarian Comedians, where I declare to my daughter during our exit interview day, “If soulless shellfish was good enough for Jesus, the original super Jew, then it’s good enough for me.” 

Amazon has no books that are even close to being remotely interesting under the Koshertarian or Pescatarian realm, especially through a highly humorous family man lens. You can change that by selling a book James Beard and Anthony Bourdain wanted to read but never could. 

I’ve produced 136 comedy records over the past 14 months such as Brisket Mom Beater, Not Kosher Baby and the Liverpool Lip. The sales potential for these records sold in the form of audiobooks or E-Books, especially throughout overseas markets such as England, Canada, Australia, India and Israel are enormous. I also wouldn’t mind launching a new podcast platform with me as host called Do It All Coach Dads, which could provide the killer filler for our next best seller together. You can negotiate the digital rights with Spotify in between. 

We could also sell a pilot to HBO for The Pescatarian Comedians, delivering bits of food history, bit by bit involving my star seedlings, myself and other promising actors both old and new. Think Drunk History with a foodie minded twist.

Last, I also have 2 other books to secure six figure deals for, Waste of Height Really Short Stories and United We Laugh, all great titles I know. John Lennon wished he was this productive during his Stay-at-Home Dad Years. 

I resume my IT Headhunter career next Monday to finance self-publishing these book gems if I can’t find a lit agent willing to embrace the wild man leanings of the funniest Koshertarian Comedian who’s ever lived before the new year, God forbid. Because Florida and Anti-Semitism are so hot right now. 

Assuming, I haven’t turned you off with my supreme arrogance, thanks for giving The Koshertarian Comedians a chance.

Sincerely,

Michael Kornbluth

4 Jews Enter A Greek Temple

Gimmel, a high school wrestling star for Jerusalem High turned professional bookie for the Maccabees, stands in prayer, lip synching some horseshit prayer in honor of some half-horse, half-man freak centaur, who also happens to be hung like an Arabian.

            Shin, the local tailor, adjusts his fancy schmancy Tallis like a stressed-out Rodney bombing with new material at Dangerfield’s, and says, “Gimmel, have you ever been hellenized? Because, you know I have. How else do you explain my fear of getting electrocuted to death ever since Zeus jammed a thunderbolt up my wife’s snatch because she called the Goddess of Wisdom Athena ‘fake news deep’ compared to the Lord our God, not the God of Loud Rain.”

            Gimmel elbows Shin in stomach and says, “Stop making me laugh, Shin. You’ll arouse the wrath of Gelos, the personification of laughter, because, despite his Greek God status, he isn’t endowed with the funny Jew bone to bang out room-shaking laughter with either.”

            Nun, a Kosher winemaker, enters the Greek Temple after wining and dining a Greek senator who threatened to take over his family winery if he didn’t erect a marble sculptured fountain of Dionysus, connected to underground barrels of pricy Cabernet Sauvignon which spill out of his golden chalice cup every other two seconds.          Nun spots his friends Shin and Gimmel whispering to each other, lip synching up close near the holy side of the Greek Temple. This was where the Golden Menorah used to light up the 2nd Temple before Antiochus took over after Alexander The Great died and turned the Second Temple into a head shop for Greek Gods, where they now sell bundles of incense sticks for five shekels and a gram of hashish. What a country Judea had become!

            Nun lines up next to friends Shin and Gimmel, engaging in fake news Greek God prayer, and whispers to his old school Jerusalem High wrestling buds, “What are you two doing here again? You’ll get crucified if the Greek priests overhear you kvetching about you having zero interest in worshiping Pan the Goat Boy during the never-ending 2nd Temple period.

            “But you have to bitch, because we already paid our synagogue dues before King Antiochus turned our JCC gymnasium into a members-only gay bathhouse for Greek senators to bask in endless leisure, admiring each other’s flappy rounds of mound.”

            Hey, the Kosher Dairy Farmer, enters the Greek Temple with a chalef knife, whose incredibly sharp edge ensures a painless, Torah commanded, gentle-as-can-be death for cows later converted into brisket stew.

            The Negev Desert sun glares through the newly refurbished stained glass window designs of nymphs playing tug of war with Hercules cock.  But this blast of holy-powered light nearly blinds the Greek priest leading the service, as the Negev desert light bounces off Hey’s chalef butcher knife and refracts into his Greek God-loving eyes.     (Which, I’m sure, reminds the Greek priest of the time he wanted to poke his eyes out after getting blackout drunk from a three-day Theatre Festival in Athens, only to wake up next to Medusa’s sister, who rapes drunk Greek priests at will because in her presence, blackout drunk or not, you become automatically frozen stiff.)  

            As the Greek priest rubs his eyes in extreme agony, Hey, The Kosher Dairy Farmer, with his chalef knife held high in the air, yells, “Maccabees rule! We’re the chosen people for a reason, bitches.”

            Eight days later, the magnificent band of Maccabee warrior brothers reclaimed the Greek Temple and turned into the grand 2nd Temple of old without barely breaking a sweat because the Lord was on their side. I bet you eight million Shekels that Hermes ran for the hills away from Zion as fast as he could, refusing to give Zeus the message.

             Happy Hanukkah, Kayne excluded. Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

The Mozzarella Man

Pizza isn’t everybody’s favorite food, because the universe loves melted gouda. Nobody today is waiting online to inhale entire pizza pies drenched in smoked cheeses like gouda unless you’re a hardcore Dutch dude from Amsterdam in lower Manhattan on holiday because working Europeans get five weeks of a paid vacation and have nothing better to do than try the new gastropub in town, Crackers and Brews, which offers state-of-the-art mini pizzas on in-housemade crackers, to leave more room inside for the perpetual IPA poundage soon after.

            Mozzarella will always be the most popular cheese in New York, because you’re not melting sharp Vermont cheddar cheese on a Veal Parm hero in NOHO, either. Mozzarella is the king of NY cool dominance. It’s like Laurence Fishburne and Westley Snipes in New Jack, all wrapped up into one.

            “Am I being too talky again, boss?”

            Boss says, “There’s no practicing schtick in the dressed-up mozzarella-hawking game off St. Mark’s Place, especially knowing you can practice your routine at a plethora of open mikes throughout the East Village and Brooklyn, and that ANTIFA hasn’t planned to take over, yet.

            “In your own spare, non-billable time, you can continue to make jack shit, spewing semi-coherent streams of thought that never amount to as much hilarity on mountaintops as you might think.”    Talking Mozzarella Stick says, “Alright, boss, I’ll stick to the script and only ask girls who pass me by, ‘Have you ever been sticked by Big Buster before? Because, you know, I have, but his name was Dave from Long Island, not Big Buster.

            “This reminds me of a fat white rapper who had no role models to emulate, really. Beastie Boys always rocked, skinny jeans dragging off their ankles and shit. Vanilla Ice always opted for the flaptastic, fly guy silk sweats. Anthrax was the backup thrash metal band for Public Enemy on Bring The Noise, and their scrappy and skinny, yet muscular, metal white boys from Queens, the former breeding ground for Dee Sider from Twisted Sister, Nasty Nas, Black Sheep, and Third Bass.

            “I know the list is a greatest hits one that keeps you guessing who’s even bigger on the list, next.

            “Art Garfunkel, the angelic-sounding Jew, and Paul Simon both hail from Queens, which stings the Republican gentile who’s jealous of creatively successful Jews and who didn’t take the Bernie Madoff route. I totally get it.

            “But, to round out the list of all-time great artists from Queens, you also have to include the consistently funny and transcendent Cyndy Lauper while also giving a loving, gushing shoutout in honor of showrunner and comedic writer, ball-busting great Doug Ellen behind Entourage. He made the legendary show on HBO infinitely cooler than Wahlberg’s producer name credits it, on it.     “Doug Ellen is the funnier, cooler version of John Favreau until he started to produce, direct, and write every episode, it seems, for the first season of Mandalorian, asshole.

            “Look, I think John Favreau deserves a shot to reimagine Boba Fett’s backstory for Disney just for teaming up with Vince again on Made, alone. Even more than Richard Linklater, for making Dazed and Confused the pitch-perfect film to come out my senior year in high school among my old school pinko brethren buds of old.

            “But still, asshole, if you’re creatively competitive at all, you know that John Favreau directed Elf, all the Iron Mans, and wasn’t too shabby in Rudy or PCU, either.”

            The big boss in charge of founding and running Mozzarella Man says to his mouthy, unknown, unrepresented wannabe standup comedy star, “If you love John Favreau so much, then write your screenplay about being Vince Vaughn’s non-successful twin brother, because you look like him in a pre-good-living, insomniac fashion; and leave me out of it, already.” 

Michael Kornbluth

Tofu The Terrible

Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth was in no singing mood today. Every day, she’d wake up singing, ‘Good Day Sunshine’ by the Beatles even if she had gotten up at the crack of dawn again, or decided to work in Norway away from her mom and dad throughout an entire darkened five-month winter as a 9-year ski model for Northface; knowing that in a post-Corona universe, she was used to doing remote learning away from school, anyway.

            But this drab Thanksgiving morning was different, because she had to act thankful for eating Tofurky Roast again (despite the spirit of Tofu The Terrible terrorizing her dreams since she’d described soy dogs, in her school lunch cafeteria blog, as “Rubber dog link nosh toys.”

            But how could Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth act grateful for eating a Tofurky Roast since her fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Right, made it clear how the Native American indians weren’t responsible for teaching the Pilgrims how to turn soy milk into white blocks of semi-firm bricks of soy, with higher levels of estrogen to feminize John Smith’s sturdy stock of sailors.

            Also, Thanksgiving this year, post-Corona, wasn’t feeling particularly festive, knowing that Matilda was suffering from PTSD from wearing all of those Corona masks to death. Matilda was now having nightmares of being terrorized by the masked man Tofu The Terrible, who ruined every favorite meal she’d dreamed of.

            For example, if Matilda had just won the gold medal in the Hardcore X Games for Equestrian Riders within the Under 10 Years age bracket, having to complete jumps through rings of fire with an occasional baby dragon on her tail, she’d normally celebrate with her best friend Shannon (in her dreams) over their favorite treat of jellybeans at a sleepover party, soon after.

            But now, all that appeared in her dreams were pasty, slimy soybeans in the place of jellybeans, because Tofu The Terrible was punishing her for calling soy dogs, on her cafeteria food blog, “Not good enough to pass for rubber dog toys.” And Matilda hated pet dogs because they ate dog food with minced horsemeat inside.

            Matilda had always been a hardcore vegetarian loyalist, yet she’d greatly offended the spirt of Tofu The Terrible, a ferocious Chinese vegetarian warrior from the Ming Dynasty who even got Genghis Khan into Mapo Tofu over jasmine rice, a fiery dish loaded with super-scary Sichuan spice.

            The smell from the ground-up Sichuan peppercorns would make most grown men cry, making their lips tremble in fear at the prospect of having to try one more bite, knowing that Genghis Khan would be hoarding all the Sake rice wine for any temporary relief for themselves, soon afterwards.

            Matilda was convinced that she’d never enjoy the food she loved in real life again (such as her Dad’s fried Icelandic cod in a barbeque aioli) without tasting anything but mushy dog drool, instead.  

            Now it was time for everyone at the table to give thanks for Thanksgiving. Matilda had been dreading this from the start. She was consumed with nightmarish visions of Tofu The Terrible ruining all her favorite foods in her dreams and in real life, such as her Dad’s star side dish creation, Caramelized Cauliflower Potato Gratin, combining cave-aged gruyere and raclette cheese from the Swiss Alps, which injected the dish with an extra scrumptious, creamy, fresh finish.

            Matilda’s dad, a Stay-At-Home Comedian Author, podcast host, and self-taught semi-gourmand chef, can tell that his daughter was dreading her turn to participate, and says, “Matilda, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is Tofu The Terrible ruining the taste of your jellybeans again?” Matilda perks up, shaken out of her petrified, frozen comatose state, and says, “How did you know about Tofu The Terrible, Daddy?”

             Matilda’s dad says, “I helped you launch your own lunch cafeteria blog on WordPress, remember? Your last piece, Tofu Brownie Blues, was about how Tofu The Terrible threatened to shred everyone’s masks at school, unless the Brownie Girls started selling his special batch of Tofu Brownies at the next school book fair, instead.”

            Matilda says, “Do we have to eat the Tofurky Roast this year?”

            Dad says, “No, try this veggie Barbeque Pita, instead.” Matilda takes a reluctant bite, but is moved by her Dad’s gesture of goodwill. She says, “Yummy, Daddy.”

             Her dad says, “I fried up cubes of semi-firm soy inside that bad boy. The sautéed onions and peppers keep the memories of mushy dog toy food at bay.”

             Tofu The Terrible was dead, in Matilda’s head, and she started singing again while giving thanks and praises at Thanksgiving, singing, “Soy Dogs still suck, Tofu The Terrible too; but you’re no longer so bad, since my Daddy came to my rescue.”

Michael Kornbluth

Exit Interview Day

Int. Bedroom-Day

Do It All Dad

Matilda, what do angels taste like according to Hillary Hammertime Cankles?

Blood Orange Mimosas or Sponge Cake?

Matilda

Blood Orange Mimosas.

Do It All Dad

What’s the big payoff from following the Koshertarian Diet?

Matilda

Growing closer to God and getting a dynamite book out of it.

Do It All Dad

What does the Koshertarian Diet mean to you?

Matilda

Being serious about pleasing God and following some of his laws for a change.

Do It All Dad

Would you be happier if Daddy became a part-time Pescatarian Comedian instead?

Matilda

Yes, because meat is murder and most meat is meh, unless it’s your Kosher chicken in your Walnut, Pecan pesto.

Do It All Dad

Would you ever take your girlfriends out to a Kosher style deli like Epstein’s when you get older?

Matilda

We’d rather go out for Sushi.

Do It All Dad

Why do think the top literary agent in Israel told me he didn’t see a market for my book, The Koshertarian Comedians, despite praising the wildly funny writing inside?

Matilda

He was lying, it’s too good for him Daddy. It’s unique because of the rare point of view expressed inside. I mean who else compares getting laughs and yummy dances to getting closer to God and your 3 children in the same breath?

Do It All Dad

I’ve raised a hot pitch monster folks. No wonder why you played by the self-appointed 9 year agent in The Great American Jew Novel.

Matilda

I’m 11 now Daddy.

Do It All Dad

I’m aware, resist this child services. What celebrity would you take out for lunch?

Matilda

Martha Stewart, because she has good taste and could tell me the best stuff to order.

Do It All Dad

What special ingredients make a great cook?

Matilda

Love and variety, making things with love and showcasing plenty of a variety like you do in the kitchen and with your all your comedy records Daddy, even less the hardcore hilarious ones.

Do It All Dad

Does eating fried shrimp from Stew Leonard’s make your heart less pure?

Matilda

No, kids shouldn’t be tortured and denied happiness on tap like that.

Do It All Dad

Do you consider cooking a major time suck not worth pursuing?

Matilda

No, I consider it a form of creativity that makes you less dependent.

Do It All Dad

Do Shrimps have souls? Would a shrimp sell it’s a soul to play the guitar like Paul Simon?

Matilda

I don’t know who Paul Simon is. Is he the guitar player for White Lion? But no, I don’t think shrimp have souls like the adorable goat we saw at Stew Leanord’s munching on grass this weekend Daddy.

Do It All Dad

The guitar player for White Lion is Vito Bratta. He inspired my flash fiction story, When the Shredder Frets, about a reclusive hair metal guitar God who used to kiss his guitar more than his ex-wife, forget it. What do your friends at school know about the Koshertarian Diet?

Matilda

Pork is off the list, or should I say a no-go zone in Germany these days Daddy?

Do It All Dad

I’ll write the jokes thanks.

Do It All Dad

Do I resist becoming a part time pescatarian comedian after being a full-time Koshertarian comedian out of fear of being labeled a poser?

Matilda

Yes, but you shouldn’t feel like a poser Daddy. Consider it the second act in your comedic evolution Daddy. And God wants us to be happy, assuming we refrain from eating Kosher slaughtered animals unless you’re feeling completely famished. God wants us to be happy, remember?

Do It All Dad

What sacrificial lamb, meaning, what’s one big thing you’d sacrifice eating by ditching the traditional Koshertarian diet for the Pescatarian one?

Matilda

Brownies, for you, it should be the other kind, Daddy. I’ve heard the jokes on your comedy records. Ziggy Marely, your dad had 7 kids, but I thought ganja drained your ball sack dry. Ziggy says, “Fake news-man.”

Do It All Dad

Are you saying that holiest, most idealized diet is the Pescatarian one after Daddy’s ate strictly Kosher for the past 2 years while writing my book?

Matilda

Yes Daddy, the Pescatarian Diet is the sweet spot in the middle.

Do It All Dad

Looks like we just conducted our exit interview from the Koshertarian diet then.

Matilda

Your blockbuster sequel to The Koshertarian Comedians, will be the The Pescatarian Comedians. Who could resist?

Do It All Dad

Even Hillary can get on board. But I don’t think it’s Kosher to have your spirit cooking dinners and your sponge cake too. Pescatarian Comedians live for now, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Follow The Vaccine Body Count

If Obama could ball. Then, why did he ride the bench at an all Asian private school in Hawaii?

I wanted to marry my wife in her native homeland of Australia. Mom says, “Australia is a long flight from New York. And your father doesn’t love you that much.”

Later, I console my wife and say, “Assuming we have a boy one day, we can hire Crocodile Dundee for the circumcision. Just so we can hear a room full of Jews say, “Now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.”

US troops are being denied earned leave without getting their vaccination 1st. On the upside, less Navy servicemen will get pricked by the barebacking ghost of Allen Ginsburg during Fleet Week. Holla, thank you very much.



The Indian Health Ambassador and former comedian gets his COVID vaccine live on TV to show everyone how safe it is and dies 2 days later. I hope the former comic is reincarnated as anal warts inside Dr. Fauci’s hell hole colon.

The Indian comedian should’ve stuck to killing with arranged marriage material instead. Former Indian comedian says, “It’s easier to get your wife into anal if you’re pushed into marrying one caste beneath you. Holla, thank you very much.”

Dr. Cole says we’ve seen more deaths from the COVID shot than all vaccines in the last 20 years combined, adding, “Morally just Wuhan Lab assistants have longer shelf lives after interview spots with Tucker Carlson.”

Dr. Cole, another outspoken critic about the ineffective practice of lockdowns also says since the dawn of man, “We’ve never quarantined the well.” Adding, “Look how well Dave Chapelle turned out after his walkabout sabbatical in Africa, using only bush dirt weed to fight off killer Mosquitos the size of Aids quilt blankets.”

Vaccinated people still wearing a mask is like Cookie forcing Magic to wear a rubber whenever they snuggle up to The Inside Guys on TNT.

The Sopranos finale would be better if Meadow got to play the prosecutor in the George Floyd case and in her closing statement state, “How did all lives matter become the new n word?” Holla, thank you very much.”

2 female college students got kicked out of Amherst College for not wearing a mask from a photograph taken on campus. When did liberal art colleges become no go zone areas for Muslim housewife property during Ramadan?

Bartender looks at my wife’s credit card during our sweaty sex period before we got married and says, “Duffy, like me.” I reply, “Why don’t you 2 open a bar together and live happily after?” Holla, thank you very much. 

I’m so tired of hearing the NY is coming back pitch. These days, Jews feel less welcome in New York City than critical BLM theories.

Michelle Obama says, “You want to hang out with us. Get your vaccine, gardeners from Honduras excluded. Just don’t Instagram any of Obama’s pot plants Pancho, got it. He likes to puff with Malia and her friends during summer break to feel like a fake news bi-racial Bob Marley.”

Michael Kornbluth

Made In Wuhan


Biden mandated that no US government employee can call COVID 19, The China Virus or the Wu-Flu. I prefer to call it, Our Country Is Shit Out Of Luck Club.

If we the people, let the CDC, the WHO and Fuck Face Fauci dictate whether America becomes China’s masked bitch for life.

What did they call COVID behind closed doors at the Department of Homeland Security before Biden got his nappy in a bunch over so called hate speech? Biological Warfare falls under the Department of Agriculture.

What did fat ass William Barr call the COVID virus when he was in charge of destroying what credibility remained within the Department Of Justice? Ain’t No Thing, But Poisoned Peeking Duck On A String.

What did the Department of Defense say about the COVID 19 behind closed doors before Biden’s shut up and don’t rat on the Chinse mandate began? That’s what Americans get for electing a President who didn’t start any major new wars under his watch, who finally gave Vets the hospital service they deserve? Who ordered the US military to crush ISIS in the same time it takes Jared Kushner to blow a load in Ivanka whenever she talks dirty to him in Mandarin on his birthday again.

What did the Department of Veteran Affairs call the COVID Virus before Biden thought he possessed the authority to tell our vets how to label the real enemy behind the new red scare 2.0? Lebron and Nike sitting in a Chinese Maple Tree, SUCKING.