Do It All Dad proves united we laugh through joke gem blasts for the ages.
I’m moving on out to Russia. You don’t have to worry about Global Warming blather from the local news. Putin defending the use of fracking wouldn’t cause a pussy riot online either. Putin trolls Greta Thunberg and tweets, @GreatThunberg, Fracking actually reduces CO2 emissions. Furry Brow tweets back, “So Neil Young is full of shit now?” Putin showcases a flash of Trumpian wit and fires back with “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So that much, you share in common babe. Why doesn’t Global Warming scare me Greta? Because Al Gore’s speaker has considerably cooled.”
Russians can still take a joke. Trump has ties to Russia. Duh, what mail order bride owner doesn’t? Plus, like the great Russian novelists such as Fyodor Dostoevsky, I prefer my comedy like my coffee, dark and bitter.
Also, you know BLM wouldn’t be allowed to harass patrons dining al fresco in St. Petersburg while slurping up some more Caviar soup. Putin’s so tough, he could snap your neck by just staring at it topless on a horse in the country.
Like Honest Abe said, “I’d rather live in Russia than in a place that lives under the pretense of loving liberty”, the way America does today. But Biden wants our family members and neighbors to rat out Trump supporters over white supremacist concerns because we don’t live by the creed, In Fuck Face Fauci We Trust. Nor are we inclined to believe in objective science anymore, after learning how every past prominent scientist in this country decried the Wuhan lab leak has a conspiracy theory because they didn’t want to be branded as a fake news white supremacist like the rest.
Putin actually said the name of the unarmed, American veteran Ashley Babbitt who was shot in cold blood in the Capital Building after the Stop The Steal Rally, which is more than Trumpy Poo ever mustered the courage to do.
Putin poisons his political opponents. Well, that’s better than pushing a non FDA approved vaccine on your Trump hater supporters that’s leading to more complications than election fraud audit reveals in the great free state of Arizona.
Putin poisons his political opponents. Like doxing ICE agents, immigrants from El Salvador who speak to the NY Times about MS-13, or any moms on Facebook who dare to criticize critical race theory as race divisive bullshit is any different?
Putin poisons his political opponents. Big deal, the blowhard dullard hack would’ve gotten liver cancer at some point anyway. I bet you Putin doesn’t have a fuck up druggie son who creamed in his dead brother’s wife seconds after the cremation ensued. Plus, Putin would never allow the drug cartels from Mexico or communist killers from China to push more Fentanyl through our southern border, that’s killed more crackers in this country than Taylor Swift kicking it with Lena Dunham on Instagram.
Russian journalists today know more about nationalistic pride than terrorist siding pieces of shit liars at the NY times. Who shamelessly pushed golden showers tales about Trump and Russian hookers with less legs than Lieutenant Dan. Plus, no Russian Journalist would ever be dumb enough to believe Trump hired a couple of Russian Hookers to pee on each other at his hotel room in St. Petersburg because he’s a notorious Germaphobe. Especially knowing how Trump could hire a bunch of Ivanka lookalikes to pee on each other at his Trump International Hotel in Washington D.C, whenever he likes. I’m also positive Melania can talk dirty to him in Slovenian whenever, wherever, wearing nothing but a mink hat from Spies Like Us.
Hate filled leftist retards don’t exist in Russia and would never feel morally exalted over anybody by breathlessly slinging endless bullshit enshrouded lies about election interference by the Russians, that made Drago pop out of various voting booths in predominately blue states, issuing life or death ultimatums such as, “Vote Trump or I’ll break you. If you die, it’s your fault for not believing in Holograms.”
Russia would never allow the construction of a George Floyd statue to prove thug lives matter. Especially when 2 billion dollars worth of property damage, and thousands of businesses destroyed for 6 months straight was designed to scare the Supreme Court to ever rule in the favor of law and order ever again.
Last, Billy Joel is the 1st to crowd surf at a concert in Russia before Eddie Vedder ever did. I’m not saying you can’t find a better country than Russia. But America is light years from acheiving Nirvana ever again. Wake me whenever this neverending shit show ends.
Do kids in China count bats when they have a hard time staying awake for finals?
Why didn’t you get your vaccination shot yet? Because I don’t have a job at
Salesforce to go back to. Nor am I a CCP controlled pawn of the US military. Plus,
if I wanted to join the Army now, I wouldn’t be accepted in it because my
shemale search history on YouPorn.com, means I’m against Sharia law and genital
mutilation, which isn’t gay enough for Mayor Pete’s butt plug tastes.
Why haven’t I gotten the vaccine yet? Because I don’t light up with joy
at the prospect of wearing a sticker that says, “Just Vaccinated”, in
case you think I’m on Trumpy Poo’s side now to.
Why haven’t I gotten the vaccine yet? Because if shriekish leftist fuck-wads
didn’t have their heads so high up their ass, they’d be able to see, they’re
not the only ones allowed to resist.
Why haven’t I gotten the vaccine yet? Because the pediatrician for my 3 kids
told me to get one and he thinks Biden won fair and square. Yeah, and Hunter
loves giving up blow for blow painting.
If Biden got the most votes in US history, President Trump is allergic to
high end trim.
Why did Biden get more votes than Obama doc? Because Mr. Groper looks like
a more virile Jimmy Carter in Aviators.
School nurse sent my kid home today because he coughed BULLSHIT. After his friend
Hobbs, insisted he got COVID from watching a Trump Rally last year on Fox News.
I hate to see Biden in his diaper mask. It feels like the CCP dumped a
septic tank in my mouth.
Doctor asks me “How do you think your son could’ve gotten COVID?” before the
test results came back. I said, “We looted a Target in Minneapolis for George
Floyd Appreciation Day. But don’t worry doc, we stole all the masks we could
find. So, we could throw a Burning Mask Party in style, on July 4th to be exact,
to light a fire under any patriotic verve Lady Liberty has left.
There’s only one Frank Zappa, just like there’s only one Paul, you better know my name BLM, Mooney. Rest in peace, sweet prince of lacerating comedic song.
I don’t like older Deadheads because they got to experience free flowing love with busty Italian girls in the parking lot of Giants Stadium before Magic made HIV disappear. I had to settle for either dry humping induced zipper burn in college or feel nothing condom sex, which is the equivalent of having to exchange silky smooth lining for plastic covered seats. A guy knows when a condom breaks because he immediately starts to coo, “Wee, Wee, sex is fun again.”
I especially don’t like older Deadheads wearing Grateful Dead masks at the grocery store because they’re not dropping acid in those dancing bear masks for 3 hour drum solos on ACID at MSG Square to see Grateful Dead and Friends. I don’t care how much masked deadhead woman bat their eyes to John Mayer with a mask on looking like a longhaired Long Ranger in Tie-Dye in disguise.
Imagine a Masked Deadheads who suffers from anxiety, being slipped ACID by a new age Merry Prankster at MSG, requiring you to wear the mask at all times, except between more puffs of increasingly necessary calming green. Once the double of dose of ACID kicks in, the Masked Deadhead says, “Fuck CDC guidelines. If I could survive Altamont and the Hell’s Angel’s nearly beating my skull into the middle earth, I can handle an itchy esophagus no problem. Besides, I’ve been spoking weed out of out a metal bat at Dead Shows for five decades straight and my lungs feel great, holla, thank you very much. ”
It’s hard to remain calm when I see a Baby Boomer in a Grateful Dead mask today. They never had to greet their kids off the bus wearing masks, looking like Michael Jackson’s adopted ones on holiday in Bahrain. All these Masked Deadheads did was use their cushy positions in the media, government and academia to push lawless policies, which turned LA and San Francisco and now Manhattan into overrated, overpriced ten cities sponsored by REI.
Masked Deadheads are fake news hippies like my retired father who hasn’t visited the Grand Canyon in 9 years since retiring to Scottsdale, Arizona, to take up jerking off to the Weather Channel every winter and playing tennis with Dr. Ken, who claims my father’s forehand has never been stronger.
Took my daughter to her 1st Dead show and she says, “Daddy, why are your eyes red? I said, “The THC content in these edibles have unmasked my pothead eyes.”
My daughter’s 1st Dead Show was days after her 2nd Birthday. She points at dinged up looking hippie sucking down a nitrous balloon and inquires, “Birthday”? I say, “No Matilda, Burnout Day.”
It’s hard to plan for kids, when you’re pothead who forgets to ask your girlfriend if she’s on the pill. Although when my wife told me about being pregnant with our 1st child Matilda, my response in my mind was. First, stress how it’s her decision but then push for the abortion and don’t be a pussy about it. Still, at the time it was impossible for me to write off my daughter in the making as a zombie zygote whose spirit could be brought back from the dead by getting my girlfriend now wife, accidently pregnant again in a NY Minute again, no problem. The moment my wife announced she was pregnant with our 1st of 3 kids, I couldn’t be blase about pushing the Unplanned Parenthood, family man, extermination plan.
Do you think Michael Corleone would push Kay to get an abortion if the ultra sound revealed their kid in the making was a gender fluid hermaphrodite? Kay says, “It’s a hermaphrodite Michael. I know you really wanted a boy to carry on your scared Sicilian seed. I’ll just book a contract hit with Planned Parenthood tomorrow. Don’t bother sending a car for me. I’ve seen how that movie ends before. You had no problem ordering your goons to blow up helpless Fredo, so stop acting like giving me the green light to take out a hit on your own flesh and blood doesn’t sit well with your soul anymore. Besides, how does a hermaphrodite as the head of the five families even work? Do all the other thuggish killers in Armani come into The Gender Fluid Godfather’s office to kiss her cock ring or just suck off her latest wallpaper collections of gender fluid pink zit recipes in Pinterest??
Vermont must change their state logo from the Green State to CBD Oil only. Bernie Sanders couldn’t even make Vermont great for potheads on vacation.
I drop weed edibles about an hour before I tuck my kids in to avoid my daughter’s super hard questions on it before they kick in. Once, edibles kicked in earlier than usual and my daughter says, “Daddy, if God created the universe, then who created God?” I say, God went back in time in a Time Machine, made by Elon Musk.” She replies, “Real convincing Daddy. Thanks for making an atheist at 4.”
Did you know 4/20, Earth Day for Potheads because it’s an herb that grew wild around King Solomon’s grave, is also Hitler’s birthday? Total bummer right man? I haven’t been this let down since I learned how Sly Stallone snuck Mel Gibson into Expendables 3.
And this is my impersonation of Ziggy Marely being interviewed by High Times magazine? Reporter says, “Ziggy, your dad had a dozen kids. Isn’t excessive ganga use supposed to drain your life blaster and ball sack dry? Ziggy Marely says, “Fake News man.”
I really don’t like Baby Boomers wearing Grateful Dead masks because they’re acting like this freedom killing reign of COVID terror is campy fun like touring with the Dead during summers past. I only wish I could dance in the grass to the Shakedown Street again throughout the Bethel Woods great sprawling lawn without any mask mandates anymore to kickstart the 1st of many burning mask parties this summer, able to sing with final chapter closed authority, “What a long, evil revealing trip, it’s been.”
Last, I’m sick of hearing certain Baby Boomers proclaim, “We’re all mad.” Unless, you were drafted to fight in Vietnam, I don’t give a shit about your alleged discomfort post COVID asshole. Generation X, that being my generation, had to endure the nagging, adolescent of fear of contracting HIV, multiple recessions, 9/11, the media’s perpetual white washing of the Jew hating squad and our kids being forced to wear masks in school as if we’re living in some sick, twisted version of Pink Floyd The Wall, except this time only the CDC, Fuck Face Fauci and China get final cut. Jew loving Roger Waters lives, thank you very much.
The mother responsible for her son developing a near crippling neck condition that required corrective surgery at 2, called Torticollis, where the neck muscles contract causing the head to twist to one side as a result from too much newborn plopping time alone the crib, summoned the gaul to ask her son, whose about to turn 50 years old in his new Victorian Mansion home outside of Saratoga, NY lounging on a money Polo Lounge green Adirondack Chair, overlooking Lake George, “Why would you push your son into Fencing?” The Torticollis Survivor Son says, “Because the sport of fencing needs a metal edge. And your grandson, “Headbangers Baller is just the kid to do it. Plus, Christian Knights slayed Jews and Muslims for centuries because they didn’t wear crosses around their neck. So, it’s time to rock those Limey bastards on their ass like they just got hit by an American made Twister from Kansas City in the shape of Charlie Parker with the colossus wind power to match. Bruce Dickenson, the lead singer of Iron Maiden is a championship fencer yet his nerdy hued, Dungeons and Dragons stylings are no match more for my son’s budding Headbanger Baller Edge. I want my son to be the most famous American fencer who ever lived, who graces the cover of Rolling Stone and Sports Illustrated all at the same time. I envision my son becoming the dreamy child offshoot of John Belushi, Charles Bukowski and Slash wrapped into one. He’ll shred every fencer record to pieces and tear more than his share of hymens in the process. Assuming he identifies with highly addictive heterosexuality puss plowing play. Force =Mass x Acceleration and becoming a world class championship shredder will make my son an indominable force within the business world when he opens his own hair metal shredder fencing line which will be recession proof, because we’re all going to be stuck wearing nappies on our face in post COVID universe gone wild till our last dying breath anyway.”
The Torticollis Survivor Son adds, “Fencing will be more popular in the US than Basketball and Baseball combined after Headbanger Baller Kornbluth adds windmill celebration dances with his fencing sword, throwing all that old school fencing decorum bullshit out the window. Plus, he’ll be loaded from commercial endorsements from the Guitar Store, Bose, Spandex R Us, you name it, so he could afford to pay any fine for inappropriate, hot dogging behavior whenever the flamboyant showboating moods strikes again. Dana White will be inspired to go into the fencing business and make Headbanger Baller Kornbluth the face behind his new billion-dollar behemoth franchise, transforming Octagon rings into enormous steel cage fencing matches instead. Instead of having Michael Buffer in a tux before Fencing matches, boom, “Let’s get ready to rumble”, Dana White will find the new Cherry Pie girl to announce, “Let the shredding begin”, while Kickstart My Heart by Motely Crue blares on the state-of-the-art surround sound speaker system that gives the steel cage tremors of impending despair. I’d push my son into becoming a WWE Wrestler for a living, yet there will never be another Andrew the Giant, nor is he 3rd generation wrestling royalty like the Rock or have a Canadian hockey player dad like Chris Jericho. So, why not become a big fish in far smaller pond, while making the most humongous splash possible? He also plays with collection of lightsabers now more than he does with his cherished Wrestling figures and he owns the original rubber dog toy size Hulk Hogan and Ricky The Dragon Steamboat among many others with vintage WWF wrestling ring I got off ebay to match. Kayne West is worth 6 billion, mostly from his fashion line of sneakers that sell for 1 grand and up ma yet there’s no limited, in demand fashion line for the flamboyant hair metal shredder in us all. I envision a flashing middle F-You, finger logo that’s sporting the inscription of a Kosher Chalef butcher knife on it that says, “Live To Shred”, to slap on his own line of silver spaceman sneakers, ripped jeans and shorts, obviously in every color imaginable except Slayer Reign In Blood Red. He’ll have his own line of studded, belts, necklaces, metal cowboy hats and tang tops to show off his legions of groupies and adoring young male fans how his own line of core exercise work out videos involving jumping off box jumps through rings of fire as Moth Into Flame by Metallica plays at full blast, being responsible for his shredded physique once he steps into something more comfortable for post fencing fight interviews. I want to feed my son’s love for speed. I want my son to maximize his inherent shredding edge like Buckethead, Randy Rhodes and Steve Vai for love of God, kickass metal guitar solo’s and for his metal loving American Dad who pushed him to shred for bread. On a less poetic, baser level, I want my son to be an all-American athlete who gets a fencing scholarship for being the most rollicking, flamboyant, fencing front man of all time while making the sport less overtly nerdy in the process. I want him to be loved and feared like Sonny in the Bronx Tale mom. I want colleges to recruit him in junior high for fencing scholarships, so he can become a Headbanger Baller in life, instead of being a desperate flailing hounder. That’s why I’m pushing my son into Fencing mom.”
Mom says, “Your father thinks a team sport would be better for our grandson like Football for instance. The Torticollis Survivor Son says, “Will be sticking with Nerf football in yard ma. I also don’t like to take advice from fake news hippies like Dad, mom no offense. You’ve lived in Arizona for 9 years and haven’t visited the Grand Canyon once yet, case closed. Also, dad pushing eventual Pee Wee Football on his grandson is another example of him trying to make me bow down to his authoritative opinion, which makes me think he’s the one with brain trauma from feeding his head with too much acid at Woodstock. Because if I bowed down to this belabored, weak ass pitch command request, I would’ve shied away from doing political material during my speech at my younger brother’s wedding, when I said to his old pal from Boarding School, “Cam from Canada, make yourself at home and hit somebody. So, Jim Carrey can paint you as an alt right goon on the loose in Charlottesville, with a Tiki Torch in hand, looking like an angry rejected extra from the Sears Catalog in 89. And that material killed at the Montreal Comedy Festival in 2022, which got me the agent who got me my movie deal for Back To Hebrew School, which bought this Victorian mansion, wave runners for all 3 of my kids and my speedboat Slashing Thunder.”
Mom says, “Why do you hate me so much?” Son says, “Mom, I just hated how you always tried to shred my ego to pieces and cut me down to size in my divine powered pursuit to become a world-famous comedian author/light spreader shredder, who lives to bang out more sheets of electric fueled comedy gold. I hate your arrogance for thinking you get to tell me how to raise my kids because they’re my kids, not yours, especially after your lack of physical play with me as an infant resulted in my Torticollis correcting surgery, from being left to smoosh my face into the crib out of place for serially unhealthy, prolonged periods of time. I hated the way you always tried to make me feel like I was a crazy moron for trusting my instincts and for pursuing work I was good at, which made me feel most kick ass, happy alive.” Mom says, “I still think fencing is a dumb idea. I bet they only offer 2 fencing scholarships a year max.”
Headbanger Baller won the Olympic Gold in Fencing 3 times in a row, shredding every fencing record in the past. Dana White expanded his business empire to include MMA with fencing swords now, in steel cage Octagons with no protective gear required, although Headbanger Baller preferred to show off his shredding edge in the ring, sporting various items from his billion dollar fashion line of ripped jean shorts, tank tops and speed metal belt with his signature middle finger logo, sporting a ring with a Kosher Chalef butcher knife inscription on it that says, “Live To Shred”.
Shredding rocks, especially when you shred perceptions of what you’re capable of achieving in this world whether it’s through individual accomplishment or through coaching your speed addicted seed or not. Shredder’s soar. Shredder’s fly high with the angels like 3 Guitar Attack from Lynyrd Skynyrd on Free Bird. Shredders makes us feel most alive, for doing the rocking out for us. Shredders inspire us to unleash our own solo edge. Shredders make us feel most alive, because they put us in touch with our Sunset Strip strutting, Headbanger Baller inside.
Millennials don’t even know what a stamp looks like. Using them is an outdated practice like rubbers or hitting on girls at bars without swiping them over to their spot at the cider bar in the east village 1st. By now most Boomers do online banking. Plus, I haven’t gotten a birthday card on time from my parents since 86. But I’m supposed to believe mail in votes will arrive on time and spread like wildfire like a viral vidéo of America’s frontline doctors claiming how their use of hydroxychlorquine on patients has saved more patients from Covid related deaths than any faulty mask made in China ever could?
You still don’t believe the Coronavirus isn’t being exploited for nefarious ployed purposes? Then, why else would the mayor of NY to cancel the annual 9/11 light tribute this year, which he blew off last, over alleged Coronavirus concerns? Because I’m positive 1st responders who ran into the 2nd tower, are shaking in their boots at the prospect of catching an itchy esophagus from Covid. Can’t the Guardian Angels hang Deblasio from the Freedom Tower in the name of true social righting street justice already? It would be the only time the NYPD wouldn’t turn their back on hizzonner, because they’d be too busy talking pictures for their prématuré retirement parties from the force.