Do It All Dad Does COVID

Fauci warns, means less than In Fuck Face Fauci We Trust.

If Dr. Fauci cares about saving lives, Hunter Biden cares about helping fund the new infrastructure bill with his art sales to China versus blowing the money to reconstruct his deviated septum.

The CDC recommends kids wear the mask regardless of their vaccination status because their kids go to private school in Switzerland. So what difference does it make? Hillary Hammer Time Cankles strikes again, holla. Thank you very much.

Only people not vaccinated are assholes, not the Karen who get’s up in your face at Costco and yells, “Wear a damn mask.” I’ll wear the mask KAREN, only after you suck all the hate speech and white privilege out of my super spreader 1st. But I’ll make it easier for you Karen. Pretend Obama ordered you to leak it.

I go to the Dry Cleaners this morning and they say, “Not ready yet.” I say, “I thought I’d take my chance, thinking, “Who leaves the house anymore anyway? While most most husbands insists my wife is better off wearing a mask in public or not.” The 2 Latino woman working there, laugh long time throughout.

Another heart breaking moment in the age of a parent post COVID. My son whose having a blast at day camp with no masks required asks me at home, “When do we get to have our burning mask party already? I say, “Not until, ANTIFA is designated as the real domestic insurrectionists terrorists by the DOJ or eventually outgrow their never ending pyro phase, so never.”

Did Bruce Springsteen get immunity from the Delta Variant after he sold to his soul to the CDC for free botox injections for life?

I’m so tired of the blame game. Non vaccinated people aren’t the super spreaders behind the made in Wuhan virus. Germs that infiltrate your shitty breathed nappy masks are.

Why should I give a shit about the Delta strain of COVID again when the survival rate is still 99 percent? Dave Chappelle survived his walkabout in Africa with no vaccinations, getting by on nothing but dirt weed, Oprah’s lentil stew recipe and fake news Ali worship in his mind.

Name one reason why Americans should think the US government cares about our collective safety, when open borders Biden had no problem rolling out the carpet for MS-13 at border because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years.

Why should Americans think the US government cares about our collective safety, when the demonic Democrats in charge support sanctuary cities, which is encouraged lawlessness on crack. Rapists are re-released back into the streets of NY by the time Bill DeBlasio wraps up another 2 rep 5 pound curl at the Park Slope Y.

Sanctuary Cities offers protection for rapists who can go to the cops for early release with ICE agents on their tail. But the US government cares about saving US lives from COVID? Then, why would Biden let 1million immigrants come throughout our border without checking them for COVID? Are they immune to catching the made in Wuhan virus because the US government social distances them from us by flying them away from the common population by segregating them in more spacious seats within 1st class on Virgin airlines in honor of their sin free, contamination free sparks of divinity.

Fuck your door to door vaccine information initiatives. What is the Willy Loman of vaccination sales going to tell me that I don’t know already? You’ll bribe my kids to get vaccinations when they’re old enough, with more Toca Boca add-on’s they can’t live without. People are still getting COVID after the stab. My kids will be forced to be masked permanently at school like Michael Jackson’s kids in Bahrain if the FDA actually approves a vaccine which works for a change regardless. The Delta strain is more dangerous than barebacking a bat that’s been sexually experimented on with Andy Dick in WUHAN. Delta, come fly the friendly skies was just a fake news bullshit ad campaign in eighties to never be taken seriously like Alan Dershowitz’s fear of guilt through association on Lolita Express 11 times throughout Hanukkah alone, the greedy heeb bastard. I’m a member of the tribe, so me calling Alan Dershowitz a greedy heeb, is all kosher Holmes.

Alan Dershowitz says, “He has a right to get on airplane and know that everybody is vaccinated. Didn’t Nicole Simpson have the right to know her husband’s co-counsel would squeeze the race card for all it’s justice juice and get away with brutally murdering her before all lives matter become the new n word?

The vaccine isn’t fully approved is a parroted talking point? How about I don’t trust any vaccine pushed by President Trump knowing how he pussy footed under the White House with his head between Melania’s legs for cover, while allowing Democracy to die under his watch. How about I don’t trust a vaccine pushed on the American public harder than ESPN pundits claiming Lebron is the new and improved MJ, minus the lone wolf, killer gene since the NBA became a safe space for Lebron’s ego. How about I don’t trust the crazed vaccine push used to justify more mail in voting to steal more elections when numerous truck drivers testified to hauling in ballots to throw in the Dominion tilting tabulation machines, because Biden campaign rallies weren’t enough to fill out the Little Mermaid’s b cup clam shells. How about I don’t trust doctors on MSNBC with Uni Brow Maddow, who sold their souls to China by refusing to be more outspoken about the high recovery rate of patients who were prescribed Hydroxychloroquine within the US, India and beyond the hate speech sphere of Twitter, which only introduced the word hate speech to eliminate pro Trump trash talk.

Why are the Knicks interested in brining Melo back? He doesn’t need to be near Madison Avenue to be the spokesperson for Tampax Tampons. Name another NBA player responsible for so much flowage.

Obama is expecting 700 people for his 60th birthday party bash. Dave Chappelle will MC. If Obama is good at basketball, then why did he ride the bench at an all Asian private school in Hawaii? Imagine Obama after Fox News claimed Biden got more votes than Obama did when he beat Mitt. Obama says, “There’s no way Mr. Groper got more votes than me Michelle. I’m the one who got the Nobel Peace Prize for rebranding ISIS, ISIL. So they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times, not Strawberry Shortcake sniffer.”

Chappelle is the biggest black supremacist of the bunch, way more than Lebron, king of the persecution complex. Lebron only wants to run for President just so he could tell Laura Ingraham on Fox News to stick to being a less ghoulish Ann Coulter for a living. Every Chappelle bit reeks these days especially, reeks of black entertainer supremacy trumping all flimsy charges of rape and physical assault whenever the edibles unmask his pot head eyes, “The Neverland kids wanted more than an autograph, Rihanna’s forehead got in the way of Chris Brown’s roundhouse right. R Kelly is the black Elvis with weaker bladder control.”

I’m a moron for sharing a baseball poem to my Aussie wife that I wrote this morning called Ten Homer Daily that my daughter Singing Rose Shoshana Kornbluth sang earlier for our planned early morning, in house date. I didn’t even get an “ah” this time from my wife, just a bewildered look, that screamed colossal cunt. She couldn’t even muster the energy to reply with, “But our daughter still loves me more. So don’t let your bonding time session go to your head. But my wife thinks all masks, even the ones made in Wuhan matter. So what difference does it make? Huma Licker breath strikes again. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

America Winning Again Soon

Vermont should change it’s state motto to CBD Oil only. Bernie Sanders couldn’t even make Vermont great for pot heads on vacation.

My 4 year old son says to his older brother, “Arthur sit on my penis.” I say, “Not Kosher baby. But sit on my penis is a rock solid, bare bones line to use in a Russ Meyer’s film, Topless Tudors. After little Johnny scores an A+ in his pop quiz on geometry on top of a pentagram shaped bed the director bedded Jayne Mansfield in prior for Devilish Dicks.

All my kids talked about all weekend was a scene from Peter Rabbit 2, where a carrot get’s jammed up some bloke’s butt. Turns out I need to get out of the house more often, because when I saw the scene I yell out with dejected disgust, “Where’s the penetration? Is this film G rated or what? Then again, penetration is overrated. That’s what Meghan Rapinoe said to her date at The Enchantment Under The Sea Dance. Now, soccer star Meghan Rapinoe is a new fashion model for Victoria Secret. I can’t wait to blow 80 bucks on edible shin guards that taste like hairy fish sticks. Meghan might run for President one day. What’s going to be her campaign slogan besides, “Penetration is overrated? Bring back the L Word to Netflix Obama. You’re are only hope?”



Learning that my younger brother went weed shopping with my dad at a dispensary in Arizona that I texted my dad the address for after going there myself prior solo was weird. I don’t understand why you’d include dad for this 1st time experience since weed became legal there. We didn’t get high with our dad growing up. Still don’t. Our Dad has only puffed twice in the past 50 years. Still, the moment weed becomes legal in Arizona, it’s very fitting for my dad’s favorite son to have that communal shopping experience together, while Dad utters, “Don’t tell your brother, but this means I love your druggy degenerate side more. At least you still watch ESPN and don’t do a podcast defending Trump for free.”

All British standup comedians sound and look like nerdy, neurotic Jews minus the hardcore hilarious Jew bone. At the same time, all English actresses even the so, so pretty ones look dowdy dumpy with that makeup frosting caked on their faces to, Elizabeth Hurley excluded. Still, every time Elizabeth Hurley opens her mouth in Austin Powers, her measured annunciation rockets her sexiness factor into China where all the buried boners from the Ming Dynasty reside, next to all the cracking Geisha bones their master overlords are forced to hear in Commie Hell whenever they’re forced to take another bite out of their Scorpion lollipop for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Stephen A Smith has a blunt message for the US Olympic basketball team. Vince Carter should tea bag your whole squad, poker face Pop included, like when he dunked over the French center in the 2000 Olympics for losing your 1st Olympic game to those Froggers from France. Granted, America doesn’t exist without Ben Franklin convincing the French to give us their money, ships and troops to defeat those mole tainted British bastards. Still, I don’t care how much Damian Lillard downplays the loss to France, especially when he excuses us losing to France without Tony Parker as a “national pride” issue. Dude, you’re an uppity, glamorized, miniscule jump shooter, who instills less fear in NBA opposing players than maternity suits. Who still get’s to dictate more favorable trade destinations and get PAID permanent f you Corporate America money for life, regardless if you become a go to choke artist number 3 option on the Los Angles Lakers or not. So how is Damian Lillard struggling to drum up some more passionate national pride again, knowing Willis Reed in the seventies had to sell homeowners insurance for All State in the off season before Trump 2020 Banners sent ANTIFA attack home premiums through the roof?

How much do you hate the NBA players representing our US Basketball team today? They lose to France and try to philosophize why they lose with ironic detachment like Jean-Paul Sartre being interviewed by the Paris Review. “France is a very prideful country. Jim Morrison is buried there man. Dice hijacked his entire Buddy Love persona from Jerry Lewis’s Buddy Love character in the original Nutty Professor actually. Tenor saxophonist Chet Baker scored a new lease on life in Paris during his resurgent smack attack years, did you know that? Russ Meyer, famed writer director of B busty flicks such as Faster Pussy Cat, Kill lost his virginity to a French prostitute on the house as a gift from Ernest Hemingway after working as combat photographer documenting the US defeating those Nazi scum tweaked on Crystal Meth till the end, music is your only friend till the end. Jim Morrison lives, holla, thank you very much. Reporter for ESPN.com says, “Damian, you just mentioned all wildly successful Americans in the arts in relation to their embrace in France. Why not mention Miles Davis? Miles was actually all smiles in Paris for a change. He even faced the audience once when Bridget Bardot insisted he’d spew his beautiful black pride over her busty brassiere that went on longer than John Coltrane jerky solos at Birdland, going cuckoo for more sheets of puffed up sound in his honor.” A reporter from Brietbart interjects, “But Damian, your boy Obama Be Good got his presidential puppet in place, Dominion lawsuits and promises of more mask muzzle mandates working in his favor to overshadow the election stolen from Trump in the media and government. Your side got what it wanted, law and order is deader than Portlandia’s campy appeal of yesteryear on IFC reruns since your precious Democratic party let ANTIFA burn your jewel of a city into the ground. So shouldn’t you at least pretend to be more prideful than the French because at least we don’t have old ladies in the street slapping our fake news leader in the White House in the face just yet. Come to think of it, only an eight year old red head with pig tails would get that close for a clean shot, isn’t that right slick?

Did you know the Olympic athletes who win a gold today have to put the gold medal on themselves? If I’m an African American who killed myself for 8 years to finally win the gold, only to have myself put the Gold Medal around my own neck, I’d rather hang myself with it instead. Before hanging myself in my hotel room later with my Gold Medal, I’d yell up on the podium, “Couldn’t some disk thrower from Japan throw the Medal around my neck? Fuck CDC social distancing guidelines. I’m the new and improved Iron Mike, you fear mongering masked motherfuckers. The elusive image of my black glorious neck being draped in Olympic gold by some lowly white European beneath me who vacations 5 weeks a year sunbathing in Capri, kept me going through running up sand dunes in the dead of winter like Marvelous Marvin Haggler did. My driving vision to plow past all the pain, incessant loneliness and faded memories of grandma’s chicken fried steak was that Gold Medal draped around my neck like George Forman and Sugar Ray Leonard before me. It’s time to cash in on my well earned gold medalist privilege already, you COVID crazed crackers. I fought myself out of South Central, a single parent home and rampant violence every step I took from sunrise to sunset. I’m not sweating an itchy esophagus at this round in the game. Vape Pens killed more of my people in South Central in their teens than the made in Wuhan virus did. That’s right, I said it, made in Wuhan. Biden can’t censor me up here on the podium. Pelosi can’t suck my blood like a bat out of hell from my spot at the top. Social distance yourself from these nuts, you raggedy old bitch. I voted for Trump motherfucker. My pops saw Tyson knock out Michael Spinks at the Atlantic City Convention Center before Tony Soprano made a large scale seed investment into the Bada Bing. Dice lives, oh, I can’t take no more, thank you very much.

I’m so sick of hearing get the vaccine shot for the kids pitch, especially from my father because his alleged concern over my own increased fatality rate without the stab is glaringly secondary. My dad’s interior monologue reads like: Stay At Home Dads have no freedoms to begin with. So what special life does my 1st son care about preserving exactly? The kid has been on shit removal detail for the past decade and counting. So how much shittier can his life get exactly? Although for some warped reason, my son gives his mother grief for encouraging him to become a garbage man for a living. “Shoot for shit”, my son says, is his mom’s motto for her least favored son. Like taking out other people’s trash is any different than on being nappy disposal detail for the past 10 years already and counting. At least in the Sanitation department, my 1st born, still don’t know how were related, will get paid to throw shit for for a living and can actually cite on the job experience to boast about for an attainable six figure job with benefits for a change.”

My wife isn’t any better with the get the vaccine pitch because if I give COVID to our kids, I’ll be out in the street with other mass murders who got early release from Riker’s Island because Thugs Lives Matter Most, even among those accused of double homicide with the intent to kill, again and again.

Get the vaccine shot for the kids. Marvin Haggler, an epitome of peak physical prowess died of a heart attack after getting his 2nd stab and went down harder than any flurry of one 2 punches Tommy The Hit Man Hearn’s ever unloaded on his face. I’ll take my chances. Stop acting like unvaccinated people are putting you at risk in your swingers club as if they just came back from a barebacking tour of She Males with Bill Maher in Marti Gas for the last mile of the three legged tour of Mount Roraima.

This morning I negotiated a temporary cease fire agreement with my wife, before we take our kids for a little trip to Vermont later this summer, when we visit the Ben and Jerry’s factory tour. I tell my wife, “I’ll stock pile barbed one liners to unload after the tour is over. Then the gloves come off babe. Don’t Ben and Jerry know that a 2 state solution is impossible, if Hamas keeps fucking? The only thing occupying Palestinian territory is AP news for them do another hit piece on Israel refusing to be pushover putzy next time Hamas launches 5000 rockets in their backyard again, expecting nothing more in return than an edible arrangements gift basket in return with a thank you note written in Farsi. Personally, I can’t wait for the Graveyard factory Tour of Ben and Jerry ice cream flavors no longer in production like the Tonight Show one. Wait a minute, they still make the Tonight Show one, despite the stone cold truth about how Jimmy Fallon’s writers hate, since he humanized Trump on TV by tussling his hair on TV, knowing a real life skinhead never emerged. I wonder if Ben and Jerry discontinued the Aloha Macadamia line because Michelle Obama demanded they’d replace Obama’s favorite Samoan nuts with Almonds that grew on George Clooney’s Lake Cuomo estate instead. Where the ex President is forcing to feel like second banana regardless. Because at least Clooney’s Oscar win didn’t feel like a participation trophy the way it did when Obama Be Meh won the Nobel Peace Prize for rebranding ISIS, ISIL. So they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times already. And why did Ben and Jerry kill of Purple Passion Fruit? Did Prince threaten to sue them for copyright infringement while getting his ruffled tux bent all out of shape? Who ordered the hit on Holy Cannoli? Did Phil Rizzuto demand they change the name to Holy Cow, I think Meat Loaf is going to make it? Doesn’t Ben and Jerry realize Trump passed prison reform by the time Jared Kushner creams into Ivanka whenever she talks dirty to him in Mandarin on his birthday again? And if Ben and Jerry were so concerned with investing in communities of color, why would they keep their corporate headquarters in Vermont? Vermont is whiter than Larry Bird’s fake news basketball camp for higher hopping authority in French Lick Indiana. On their website it says, Ben and Jerry’s supports voting rights, assuming you think Dominion machines questionable accounting procedures are on the right side of history the day before Democracy died or not. Voter ID is racist. Does Julio from the Barrio have to pass a sudden height requirement in Georgia, that I don’t know about yet, Jerry? Now, that’s gold Jerry, holla. Seinfeld lives. Thank you very much. How do you Ben and Jerry define racial justice exactly? The USA basketball team lost to France because the NBA is down with supporting thug lives matter no matter what? I’m all for LBGT rights like Ben and Jerry yet do you think they’d agree that Drag Queen Reading Hour can be a tad freaky for our kids knowing how hard it is to look flattering fresh under fluorescent library lights? What’s climate justice according to Ben and Jerry? Greta Thunberg causing more eco anxiety to go viral again, because a doorman can’t keep a typhoon from taking out a Private Equity Director’s penthouse overlooking Central Park East. Twin daughter’s are popping Melatonin gummies up late on a school night again because they’re consumed with eco-anxiety. Dad comes home at 10 after a pricy client dinner at Eleven Madison Park and yells at his nanny, “Why are the kids still up? Let me guess Greta Thunberg again, that sweaty browed bitch. Sorry I didn’t take a Citi Bike to my 5 star client meal at the Eleven Madison Park. So I could avoid smelling like shitty commercial weed from head to toe. Does Greta know Leo still uses plastic straws for blow at the Viper Room, only to hear last call from the bathroom stall? While yelling, where’s Hunter?” Plus, I hate those fucking straws made out of bamboo, avocado pits and pea protein enzymes used for Bill Gates Golden Retrievers as Four Eyes hogs up all the pricier, Tomahawk Ribeye cuts for himself. I don’t care how many sea turtles die because I don’t want to chip a tooth while sucking down an Arnold Palmer during Lent again, OK!” Dennis Leary lives. Holla, thank you very much.

What do refugee rights mean to Ben and Jerry? Squatting rights outside of Ben and Jerry’s corporate office for a staged photo op whenever the UN is scheduled for a VIP only tour? What sort of care package do Ben and Jerry offer refugees who flee to their stores for a taste of bloated smug served heaven? A Ben and Jerry coffee mug with no pristine, locally sourced aqua in it? Until they put in a 10 hour work day off the books, mopping up after fat white kids sloppier than Joe Biden after forgetting to wash down his adderall with his extra Fierce bottle of Gatorade first.

My wife’s good friend from college has taken up micro-dosing magic mushrooms on a daily basis around her kid. But she’s also in the process of taking marriage therapy sessions to. So doesn’t that make getting the giggles more difficult to achieve when you see in sweeping, heart pulsating detail how much her son inherited dad’s droopy defeated sense of disgust with life already? Especially since the Indie rock artist reinvented himself as a software engineer, which is a far cry from banging out more Gold Records and shrieks of joy from shrieking female fans because only ugly girls go to coding boot camp. Plus, the typical pearl command line isn’t, “Massage my carpel tunnel, ho.”

I’m tired of my dad using the anti-semite excuse every time he isn’t embraced warmly by others. Perhaps, my dad would be embraced more warmly by strangers in Restaurants if he wasn’t so stingy with complimenting the chef for getting his Lobster Roll prepared by the time he reminds his son how he hasn’t gotten an agent yet again.

It’s hard for me to get aroused by the Amazon show Man From The High Castle. It’s like getting excited about watching the reality show finale for the Amazing Master Race, knowing you’re bound to get blue balls regardless, assuming, you’re not a self-hating, sell out Jewish propogandist for the fakes news NY Times. I’m not comparing lamented vaccination cards to being forced to wear a gold star on my Ted Baker button shirt. But talk of mask mandates regardless if you’ve been vaccinated or not and lowering the eligible age for kids to get the jabs, door to door peddling of pandemic shots feels a tad fascist forced if you ask me. I won’t follow the Nazi experimental science that’s not even FDA approved, resulting in 6000 plus deaths, when I’ve been smoking weed out of a metal bat on and off till I discovered edibles from the Berkshires, only 45 minutes away and my lungs feel great. Dice lives again, holla, thank you very much.

I think most Americans are more painfully aware of the media’s COVID freak out scare tactics than ever before. For example, the other day, my wife had me watch Gordon Ramsey cook a bean and hash brown dish with some pork in it. I said, “Babe, I can use the fake news Pancetta you got from Whole Foods once, that stuff was delicious. She says, “Why do you have to describe everything as fake news every other 2 seconds?” I said, “What did we learn from the Mueller Report again babe? Oh yeah, Mueller only parts his hair with good old fashioned elbow grease. And anyone who voted for Trump has been declared a domestic terrorist by the FBI while the peaceful insurrectionist protestors at the Stop The Steal Rally remain beaten, bloodied and tortured within their hole of death for daring to protest against the lack of hard scientific data that would lead any American to believe Mr. Groper got more votes than Obama when his campaign rallies couldn’t even fill out the Little Mermaid’s claim shell bras.”

Fuck Disney owned Fox to. COVID scare tactics won out. So did systematic voter fraud. But Jesse Owens didn’t run Hitler’s master race theory into the ground for nothing. And my Jewish grandfather didn’t die from cancer radiation after World War 2 so Meghan Rapinoe can kick Nazi destroyers in the nuts by taking a knee for fake news fro Collin Kaepernick. Who still got the biggest unemployment check by the NFL ever recorded. What, he has a fake news fro? Have you ever seen a bi racial afro that big before? Slash tried to grow it out and it was a total flop. No, we the people, know the score. Americans love winners, not cheaters. Americans love to champion the underdog. Americans ended slavery, Africa and China didn’t. Palestinians nationalists support terrorists in charge to bleed the UN for all it’s worth. Americans love American pride, almost as much as our kids futures. And there is zero future to be giddy about unless Dominion voting machines become kaput, fixing, worldwide election fraud once and for all. So we the people, can pounce on our pursuit of happiness again with less jaded, weighed down gold dimmed hearts, USA, USA, USA!

Michael Kornbluth













Tranny Nannies

New TV pilot concept to develop into a fully developed, plotted out, punched up pilot episode for Scriptapalooza by October 11th.

Maternal Waves: A single dad and father of 3 auditions various tranny nannies as a form of research for his new book Maternal Waves. A modern day novel that examines the driving force behind maternal waves among all sexes, ages and creeds while trying to isolate the type who never experiences that wave of emotion at all.

It’s hard not to think Female hairdressers flirt with me through my sons all the time. Whenever I hear lines like, “I didn’t know you had 3 kids. Your seed stock just went sky high in my eyes. And your other son is gorgeous to. Is your tile on LinkedIn Stud Farm Feeder or what? I say, “Let’s not ignore my daughter Matilda over here to, my funnier, far prettier twin, whose DNA is all over her face.”

Best home team ever advice: Daughter says, “Daddy, next time mama pisses you off, pretend your Ned Flanders from the Simpsons. At home wife says, “Why would you use the broom when you can use the vacuum? I say to myself, “Bite your lip if you ever want to cum on your wife and give her another urinary track infection again. Jesus forgives fake news feminists to.”

Signs Double IPA’s from Vermont and balling don’t mix. I never missed this badly ever, let alone 3 times in a row. It was a worse look than Lebron sneaking his own line of tequila into the Suns, Bucks game, with a mask dangling down from his chin. So he could look smart like a fake news plastic surgeon in attendance.

I hate all guitar instructors already after only one lesson. First, my holding technique is derided as weird. I thought guitar instructors took up the guitar because they could never get laid on the strength of their personality alone. But I’m the weirdo for trying to wrap by ET size fingers around a guitar neck while doing my best not to cup the guitar with my left hand which is like trying to jerk off with my left hand for a slower, sack emptying pace.

To make matters worse, my guitar instructor attempts to tune my guitar on my beautiful, blue sky Fender fly Stratocaster that was playing like a Siamese Dream prior, conjuring images of my son’s endlessly beautiful oceanic eyes, before popping not one but 2 of my guitar strings in the process. He was performing a vasectomy on my guitar without my permission, which made my balls feel like Edward Scissorhands face. I go back to the Guitar store and demand, “First, I want you to restring my guitar. Now it sounds like hollowed out version of Michael Lohan after Lindsey Lohan cut off her dad from her joint Amex card account. Second, I want to be comped for the string cheese incident bust my 1st guitar lesson was. Third, I want a new instructor whose not going to spend half the time of my 30 minute guitar lesson ripping the hymen out of my heart by desecrating my ax with his terrorizing, trigger happy fingers again, kapeesh?

Son asks, “Why don’t you want to see the new Space Jam movie daddy?” I say, “Because Lebron’s too much of a poser showoff chicken shit to ever compete in a dunk contest during all star weekend, which makes him a fake news jam hero in my book.

This is my daughter knowing me better than my wife. She says, “Daddy, do you like this Barbie better? She’s the mommy.

Last night, I thought I was snuggling with my wife for 2 minutes max, but it turned out to be my 9 year old daughter. It’s good thing I was wearing shorts and wasn’t getting aroused by my wife’s dressed down nightie prior.

Drop the wife off at work this morning. She says, “60 days free of alcohol feels great.” I said, “You don’t have to look after our 3 kids for a whole Sunday with sporadic thunderstorm forecasts throughout for a 12 hour stretch. I’d walk with an extra spring to my step to like Jennifer Aniston on the rebound to.

Bill Burr wants both sides to stop yelling at each other. We didn’t start the fire Bill. Wannabe punisher vigilantes in hoodies for ANTIFA and Thugs Lives Matter Most did, genius.

After we leave the kids salon, my son asks, “Daddy, why do we tip”” I say, “To let someone know you appreciate a job well done, resulting in spewing glee like at end of a lap dance from any busty vixen in a Russ Meyer movie.” Faster Pussycat Kills lives, holla, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Stuck In Teenage Taste Land

Moms always ask me, “Why is your son so happy, all the time?” I say, “Funnier dad, happier baby. Plus, he’s got more muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set of Growing Pains with Alan Thicke.”

I hate hearing, “My kids loved remote learning. They got so much more work done. Why should our kids get off so easy? Kids today should be exposed to time sucking meeting overkill the way office space life works in real life or else how else will they develop a much needed tolerance for perpetual, indentured suckitude. Also, the more remote learning becomes mainstream, the less likely our kids will ever rock the Karaoke stage to Teenage Wasteland by the Who with such jump happy, windmill rocking enthusiasm to celebrate those excessively, awkward bummer times becoming less scar tissue heavy downer times in your heart man. You dig? Not talking to you fake news Zionists in bed Mr. Groper no matter what. Your level of comprehension on anything means less to me than Jill Biden’s hair style tips during Scarecrow Appreciation Week, holla, thank you very much.

All guitar players professional or not, have grossly inflated views of themselves like bartenders who rock wool hats within centralized AC splendor, which is a far cry from reliving those Summer Time Blues. Yeah, you possess a more beautiful spirit than Randy Rhodes, got it. Randy Rhodes’s other worldly audition for Ozzy blew a bat out of the Prince of Darkness’s ass from one finger exercise twinkle tap alone. After the Prince of Darkness got kinky with Elvira in his underground wine and cheese cave in his Beverly Hills party pad palace prior.

I’m at the Guitar Store to sign up for guitar lessons and ask the manager there, whose a black dude, “Do black kids come into the Guitar Store today and tell you they want to learn how to play like Vern Reed from Living Color? He’s the black heavy metal version of Hendrix minus the rollicking mysterious personality and big pimping fly guy, feathered Fedora hats in his acid rock friendly wardrobe to enhance his overall pinup appeal. I add, “I remember requesting the song Cult of Personality at a Bar Mitzvah party the second that video broke big. And the DJ had no idea who I was talking about it. DJ says, “Living Color, like the show with Damon Wayans? Nah, DJ Hickey Quickie doesn’t play that.” I clarify, “No the band is called Living Color, not In Loving Color. And how have you not seen the video for Cult of Personality on MTV yet? The video is much less Muslim Brotherhood angry like every other Public Enemy prior, despite Chuck D growing up in an upper middle class suburb within Yenta breath country in Long Island.” Later, I point out to the black store manager how the lead singer of Living Color is actually Danny Glover’s son and add, “They should change the name of the song Cult of Personality to reflect our post woke oppressed times and rename it, Cult of Hollywood Royalty instead. Do you think Danny Glover had Mel Gibson give his son’s demo to the head of Warner Brother Records after doing Lethal Weapon together? Or did Mel resist the request because he avoided meeting Jewish music producers like Phil Spector more than Holocaust film retrospectives on AMC.” The black manger of the Guitar Store was shocked when I told him about Danny Glovers’ son being the lead singer and songwriter of Living Color. You’d think I told him that I thought Kevin Hart was hardcore hilarious all of a sudden, as opposed to being another mildly amused, short on laughs spectator like the rest.

How much social anxiety did Durant face when the press questioned his leadership prowess, after Team USA lost exhibition games against Nigeria and Australia? Right wing reporter from Brietbart Sports asks, “Kevin, you talk all this smack about being a big time leader. Who get’s the best out of others like Lebron or the way Chipmunk Chucker did with Golden State this year, with less reliable shooting options available after ANTIFA wildfires burned up every safe space shoot up, dose off playground bench left in Portlandia. What do you say to all your critics, who are more in the right to question your ability to inspire the will to win no matter what, among your tinier, less endowed, coddled teammates, Damian Lillard, excluded? Durant says, “Go woke yourself honky. I didn’t know Nigeria went to Hakeem the Dream, Dream Shake Camp free of charge. Plus, I didn’t know team Australia hired ex Bulls center Luc Longley to train their big men on the down low, down under. Luc had a more reliable jump hook than Draymond Green ever did. Am I coming down too hard on aw shucks Draymond now? Well, Draymond Green should be able to take what he dishes out, knowing how much punishment he delivers below the belt already.”

Who prices the art for Hunter’s blow paintings that blow exactly? The Tooth Fairy of Beijing who leaves 500 grand under his Chinese silk pillow every time he cuts his tooth into another masterpiece as a reward for giving up blow for blow painting like Tom Hank’s kid whose more into being the black sheep rapper wannabe in the family instead.

Friendship litmus test for borderline old school fair weather friends. Text the links to my past 4 comedy records in a row and give them one month to get around to hearing one. If they don’t, I’ll be forced to place an ad on Craig’s List for another ego jerkoff buddy, comfortable enough in his own skin, to tickle someone else’s balls without throwing their back out while trying to suck off their own inflated sense of tempered emotive resistance in the process. Although, I’m not a complete poverty case. My old sales boss, who used to let me do new material at work in our office in One Penn Plaza above MSG got back to me already and said, “Too funny. You’ll make it, just keep on doing you. I think I’ll name my next comedy record Hardcore Hilarious after all. Thanks again for the stage time Larry. You’re a shining example of how standup mensch’s matter to.

Michael Kornbluth

Stuck In Teenage Taste Land

Moms always ask me, “Why is your son so happy, all the time?” I say, “Funnier dad, happier baby. Plus, he’s got more muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set of Growing Pains with Alan Thicke.”

I hate hearing, “My kids loved remote learning. They got so much more work done. Why should our kids get off so easy? Kids today should be exposed to time sucking meeting overkill the way office space life works in real life or else how else will they develop a much needed tolerance for perpetual, indentured suckitude. Also, the more remote learning becomes mainstream, the less likely our kids will ever rock the Karaoke stage to Teenage Wasteland by the Who with such jump happy, windmill rocking enthusiasm to celebrate those excessively, awkward bummer times becoming less scar tissue heavy downer times in your heart man. You dig? Not talking to you fake news Zionists in bed Mr. Groper no matter what. Your level of comprehension on anything means less to me than Jill Biden’s hair style tips during Scarecrow Appreciation Week, holla, thank you very much.

All guitar players professional or not, have grossly inflated views of themselves like bartenders who rock wool hats within centralized AC splendor, which is a far cry from reliving those Summer Time Blues. Yeah, you possess a more beautiful spirit than Randy Rhodes, got it. Randy Rhodes’s other worldly audition for Ozzy blew a bat out of the Prince of Darkness’s ass from one finger exercise twinkle tap alone. After the Prince of Darkness got kinky with Elvira in his underground wine and cheese cave in his Beverly Hills party pad palace prior.

I’m at the Guitar Store to sign up for guitar lessons and ask the manager there, whose a black dude, “Do black kids come into the Guitar Store today and tell you they want to learn how to play like Vern Reed from Living Color? He’s the black heavy metal version of Hendrix minus the rollicking mysterious personality and big pimping fly guy, feathered Fedora hats in his acid rock friendly wardrobe to enhance his overall pinup appeal. I add, “I remember requesting the song Cult of Personality at a Bar Mitzvah party the second that video broke big. And the DJ had no idea who I was talking about it. DJ says, “Living Color, like the show with Damon Wayans? Nah, DJ Hickey Quickie doesn’t play that.” I clarify, “No the band is called Living Color, not In Loving Color. And how have you not seen the video for Cult of Personality on MTV yet? The video is much less Muslim Brotherhood angry like every other Public Enemy prior, despite Chuck D growing up in an upper middle class suburb within Yenta breath country in Long Island.” Later, I point out to the black store manager how the lead singer of Living Color is actually Danny Glover’s son and add, “They should change the name of the song Cult of Personality to reflect our post woke oppressed times and rename it, Cult of Hollywood Royalty instead. Do you think Danny Glover had Mel Gibson give his son’s demo to the head of Warner Brother Records after doing Lethal Weapon together? Or did Mel resist the request because he avoided meeting Jewish music producers like Phil Spector more than Holocaust film retrospectives on AMC.” The black manger of the Guitar Store was shocked when I told him about Danny Glovers’ son being the lead singer and songwriter of Living Color. You’d think I told him that I thought Kevin Hart was hardcore hilarious all of a sudden, as opposed to being another mildly amused, short on laughs spectator like the rest.

How much social anxiety did Durant face when the press questioned his leadership prowess, after Team USA lost exhibition games against Nigeria and Australia? Right wing reporter from Brietbart Sports asks, “Kevin, you talk all this smack about being a big time leader. Who get’s the best out of others like Lebron or the way Chipmunk Chucker did with Golden State this year, with less reliable shooting options available after ANTIFA wildfires burned up every safe space shoot up, dose off playground bench left in Portlandia. What do you say to all your critics, who are more in the right to question your ability to inspire the will to win no matter what, among your tinier, less endowed, coddled teammates, Damian Lillard, excluded? Durant says, “Go woke yourself honky. I didn’t know Nigeria went to Hakeem the Dream, Dream Shake Camp free of charge. Plus, I didn’t know team Australia hired ex Bulls center Luc Longley to train their big men on the down low, down under. Luc had a more reliable jump hook than Draymond Green ever did. Am I coming down too hard on aw shucks Draymond now? Well, Draymond Green should be able to take what he dishes out, knowing how much punishment he delivers below the belt already.”

Who prices the art for Hunter’s blow paintings that blow exactly? The Tooth Fairy of Beijing who leaves 500 grand under his Chinese silk pillow every time he cuts his tooth into another masterpiece as a reward for giving up blow for blow painting like Tom Hank’s kid whose more into being the black sheep rapper wannabe in the family instead.

Friendship litmus test for borderline old school fair weather friends. Text the links to my past 4 comedy records in a row and give them one month to get around to hearing one. If they don’t, I’ll be forced to place an ad on Craig’s List for another ego jerkoff buddy, comfortable enough in his own skin, to tickle someone else’s balls without throwing their back out while trying to suck off their own inflated sense of tempered emotive resistance in the process. Although, I’m not a complete poverty case. My old sales boss, who used to let me do new material at work in our office in One Penn Plaza above MSG got back to me already and said, “Too funny. You’ll make it, just keep on doing you. I think I’ll name my next comedy record Hardcore Hilarious after all. Thanks again for the stage time Larry. You’re a shining example of how standup mensch’s matter to.

Michael Kornbluth