All Assholes

After Lebron James lost in the 1st round against the Suns, do you think Obama scurried down into his man cave in Martha’s Vineyard to tear through his private stash of Almond Joys, hid under a giant box of Duct Tape from Costco? Joan Rivers lives. Can I get a Challah, for not giving a shit if I offended you already, and if I did, then go woke yourself, holla; thank you very much.

Why isn’t Marv Albert lionized as a hero of the LGBT community? He had an affair with a retired Broadway Transgender dancer for a solid 15 years. Doesn’t that give him a leg up on the competition? Eddie Murphy getting caught picking up a Transgender prostitute on a lonely West Hollywood night is child’s play in comparison. Oscar De La Hoya got caught wearing woman’s lingerie, whoopty freaking-do.  Del La Hoya was never canceled and had his career taken away during his prime because he liked to nosh on his sexual partners backside with extra relish on it. And there’s no way Marv Albert is capable of sexual assault on anything. He comes up to Spike Lee’s knee. If anyone is guilty of forced sodomy, it’s Spike Lee’s forced fed, media pushed narrative behind critical race theory and all lives matter being the new n word, burning up race relations faster than any Public Enemy video could, thank you very much.

Imagine Marv Albert doing play by play for Drag Queen Reading Hour. Drag Queen says, “Who wants to be a Drag Queen when they grow up?” And Marv Albert says, “We’ve entered serious garbage time folks.” Dr. Seuss, she’s not. Is that an Amber Alert I hear? Another reason, not to encourage your kids to go way downtown. I live in Soho and know what danger lurks behind those dumpster alleys late at night, which isn’t the most spectacular move to make with no protection on your person, which is why even hotels in West Virginia have room service for a reason.” Holla, thank you very much.”

Did you know Ellen DeGeneres and George W. Bush are friends? I knew she was pro bush, but what do they do together exactly? Besides play Operation with Michelle Obama, gender reassignment edition? Watch Portia De Rossi squirm as W paints a portrait of her clit being hacked off in front of Michelle for Sharia Law Appreciation Month?

Portia De Rossi is from Australia like my wife. We wanted to get married there yet my mom shot it down. She calls, “Son, Australia, is a long flight from New York and your father doesn’t love you that much.” I console my wife later and say, “Assuming we have a boy one day, instead of hiring a Rabbi for the circumcision, we hire Crocodile Dundee. Just so we can hear a roomful of Jews say, “Now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.”

Daughter asks, “Daddy, was Shakespeare transgender, because he’d dress up like a girl in all his plays? I said, “Back then, male actors played all the female parts because Kate Blanchet’s, great, great, great, grandmother was a but-her-face with no make up on to. So, I don’t know if Shakespeare was Transgender because the Bard of Avon also wrote, “Hanging perverts saved many a bad marriage”, because decoupling hadn’t gone viral yet. Plus, masturbation post #meto wasn’t declared man’s last safety rail left yet. Nor was sexting, Internet porn or dick picks devised back then either, which proved to be the death knell of small talk in this country and beyond, before tatted up white chicks on crystal meth ruined the golden age of muff diving forever. But I do know for a fact that Kevin Spacy bought the Old Vic playhouse in London because backstage the Academy Award winner is gay about lunging at Othello in tights.

If my son played with dolls, I’d tell him to triple wrap his life blaster in the making in seaweed, before taking the deep dive into Polynesian Barbie.

Why is the transgender community so offended by the song Dude Looks Like a Lady? In the song, Steven Tyler takes more than a peek, proclaiming with surging lust, “Oh, what a funky lady, and I like, like it, yeah.” So did Richard Pryor, get over it already. He called it the best piece of pussy Bill Maher never had. Holla, thank you very much.

I’m breaking my Chic-fil-A strike if I see Transgender Father’s Day trend on Twitter again. Either you’re an involved father or you’re not, nipple tits. And stop acting like getting shafted is a new experience you’re closed to pursuing either.

I’m in favor of sexual expression but Drag Queen Reading Hour is a tad scary for our kids, don’t you think? Fluorescent lights don’t look flattering on anybody, let alone on a poor man’s Marilyn Manson impersonator. Also, if we’re going to be exposing our kids to Drag Queen Reading Hour and believe it’s not intended to groom our kids into pool time entertainment at John Podesta’s house, who showcases enough pedo installation art to make Marilyn Manson blush. Why not have a Drag Queen read a fable about buyer’s remorse after playing operation, gender reassignment edition called, The Missing Link? It’s a fable about a sexual awakening on the dance floor at the China Club. Where a horny, sexually repressed, 17-year-old kid from Westchester County reared on Lou Reed Records, desperately tries to his exert his presence behind stuck up Jenny From The Block but fails to flex his manhood up into her round of mound, because his missing link to old school, banging hip hop is gone baby gone. 

At least our kids won’t be required to wear masks at the pool this summer, looking like Michael Jackson’s kids on holiday in Bahrain, who are being forced to identify with the Moderate Muslim Housewives of Manhattan.

This past morning, my wife asks me, “Can I go to sleep now, after working all night at the NICU?” I say, “Do we live under Sharia Law in this house? Of course, you can go to bed now, but not until I titty blast you with this bomb strapped to your chest 1st.” Andy Kaufman lives. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

The Manhattan Jerkoff Project

If you want to teach your kids about masturbation, send your kids to Dalton prep school for 50 grand a year on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. They’re teaching kids about masturbation early as 1st grade, imparting liberty preserving lessons like jerking off being our last safety rail left kids.

The question is, assuming Dad is beneath teaching his kid about the importance of jerking off to avoid disease and charges of rape with due process being deader in our country than Mia Farrow’s judge of character. Where would you prefer your kids to learn about masturbation? At sleepaway camp with your kid’s camp counselor or at school from a professor who teaches porn literacy at Columbia College? Porn literacy, do the parental controls at Dalton prep ensure the porn categories on their laptops are only visible in Latin?   Forcing our kids to read porn categories in Latin, is one way to bring dead languages back to life in no time. It also ensures Dalton kids won’t be accused of Xenophobia for refusing to take a class trip to Vatican because they know what giving communion in the dark means in Latin. The main reason Dalton is teaching kids about masturbation and only allowing them to surf porn written in Latin, is because some catholic donor wants to make their Latin club great again. So his son can sprinkle his debates with more highbrow nicknames than Trump could ever belch out on Twitter like BAT SHIT CRAZY COVIDITUS PELOSI. Holla, thank you very much.

The teacher at Dalton claims the masturbations lessons in the animation video were misinterpreted. Because jerking off videos like Topless Tudors are so ambiguous.

In the masturbation video animated kids discuss how touching themselves, makes it point in the air. “So, Johnny, you ever touch yourself to Dora and feel the need to cover it with multiple backpacks? Holla, thank you very much.

Parents who send their kid to Dalton claim to be enraged over their kids being show masturbation videos in the 1st grade, but they want to remain anonymous, refusing to come out on Tucker Carlson out of fear of being kicked off Facebook or else they’d lose all showing off privileges.

Aren’t the parents who send their kids to Dalton high powered lawyers, hedge fund managers and plastic surgeons for trans teens reared on Lou Reed records, considered less disposable employees than the rest, assuming they shit in MAGA hats on company retreats in the Bahamas? And how does speaking out publicly against Dalton’s teachers sexualizing their kids age of innocence get somebody fired from a hedge fund in Connecticut bringing in 4 billion a year? Does office security yank you out of the executive corporate john, on the top floor, only to sing, “You don’t come around here no more.” Tom Petty lives, holla, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

The Rape Enablement Party

George Floyd’s family demanding police reform in the White House.

“27 million is chump change after taxes Joe. Can I call you Joe? Mr. President sounds too imperialistic for my taste. Why don’t you call the the IRS right now and order them to exempt the Floyd family from having to pay state tax on our court settlement money. I don’t think we should be funding what’s left of the Minnesota police department until its abolished for good. You bet your ass George Floyd was an angel. High as a kite till the end. And were 27 million times richer because of it. Only in Obama’s oppressive rich America baby.” Holla, thank you very much.

If you support open borders, then you’re pro pedophilia in favor of unregulated sex trafficking of minors. So go woke yourself, you Godless, decrepit bitch. Holla, thank you very much.

1 kid only, means your diaphragm is for walls after all.

If you don’t possess the moral backbone to accuse Hamas as being the real perpetuators of genocide against their own people or admit to them being diehard fans of raping infidels in front of their victim’s kids left and right. Then you’re no better than the Muslim Sisterhood holding congresionall fortitude hostage since the day Democracy died.

Remember when Jew loving Linda Sarsour endorsed Chelsea Manning for Senate because she supports pro genital mutilation? Then, Collin Kaepernick thought it was a good look taking a selfie pick with Linda Sarsour to post on Twitter. That’s like wearing a mutilated clit on your fro bro. Last, Collin Kaepernick sports a fake news fro. Have you ever seen a bi-racial afro that large before? Slash grew it out and it was a total flop. Another bi-racial Hebrew Lenny Kravitz, never made it bounce that way. Holla, thank you very much.

How did congressional rep Baby Face Omar acknowledge the anniversary of Amy Winehouse’s death on Twitter? Did she tweet, “Something happened to a horn hiding, bee hiving sporting colonist, who exploited the great Palestinian Song Book for all it was worth?

How does Farrakhan celebrate Holocaust Remembrance Day? Does he spray Benjamin Netanyahu’s twitter feed with termite emojis from dawn till night but include the hashtag #NataliaPortman is alright? Can I holla for some Challah? Thanks to my God blessed, funny Jew bone? Thank you very much.  

If you reduce mothers to nothing more than birthing people, you’re a joyless wench. Whose sex life never felt pregnant with untapped possibility to begin with. Holla, thank you very much.

If you don’t recognize big tech and the mainstream’s media coordinated effort to conceal Bidens’ sketchy, morally comprised ties to China or the Ukraine, such as Hunter’s forgotten lap top with emails citing the standard 10 percent cut for the big guy while getting paid 50 grand week from a  sports energy drink company in the Ukraine who hired him  to push borscht as the new Kombucha. Then, you’re a glaringly unoriginal, hypocritical cunt like the rest of your sad sack team, responsible for ruining dinner parties and relationships with Jesus for overemphasizing the importance of loving our neighbors insistence on maintaining the moral high ground despite it being a mirage drowning in rapidly sinking quick sand. How do these people live with themselves knowing how they still treat Dr. Fauci with kiddy gloves after being busted for financing biochemical warfare against all of God’s green earth? But Don Lemon still treats Fuck Face Fauci like the saintly, non-fictitious version of Dr. Huxtable, drowning in Cosby’s family friendly sweaters.

Did you know Female dragonflies play dead to avoid sexual assault? Bill Cosby victims calls this wishful thinking.

How was Seinfeld oblivious to Cosby’s 4 decades of rape again? Where were your powers of observation then Jerry?

Seinfeld just auctioned off one his Porsches for charity. I hope half of those proceeds went to Larry’s kids. 

The NY Times claims working moms today spend more time with their kids than Stay At Home Moms did in the seventies. So Stay At Home Moms in the seventies slept on the job? After they were slipped one too many quaaludes, being forced to relive memories of Bill Cosby’s family friendly dentist drilling material of yesteryear again and again. I don’t get it.

In related news, Harvey Weinstein’s wife of 15 years finally divorced him. So she could focus on her lifetime battle with amnesia. But let’s stop acting like Ashley Judd is a real victim of rape. Ooh, she refused to watch Harvey Hair Clumps Weinstein shower himself down at his 5 star suite at the 4 Seasons. Then again, Ashley Judd is from Kentucky and has plenty experience judging fat pigs at the county fair.

And Kristaps Porzingis didn’t rape the girl in his apartment complex the day he tore his ACL. First, going strong to the hole was never KP’s forte. Also, do you see Harvey Weinstein or that guy from the 70’s show trying to rape Gal Gadot on only one good leg?

This is my impersonation of Russell Simmons on Gail King addressing all the sexual assault allegations against him. Gayle, read my lisp. I didn’t rape any of those vengeful, over the hill hos.

If you laughed at these jokes, it means, you’re not a humorless buzzkill or a crazed, demonically deranged, evil enabling, supporter of the rape enablement party. Mazel Tov. Too bad Morning Joe and Don Lemon will be heading up their defense on Judgement Day.

Michael Kornbluth  

Reimagining Cuomo Book Titles

Did you know Jared Kushner talked Dad out of Motley Crue playing at his inauguration because he insisted Tommy Lee looked too Alt-Rightish. Later he adds, “And my Hebrew Hammer can’t compete Dad.” Holla, thank you very much.

A leadership book by Cuomo carries less impactful weight than a Stacy Abrams romance novel, especially after she ditches the fat suit for a parachute jumper on casual Friday. Holla, thank you very much.

Knowing how New York State boasted the highest death rate of any US state, largely due to Cuomo’s policy of forcing sick old patients with COVID to shack up with other sick old New Yorkers older than Yiddish, to die, cursing the Italian Reptilian inside against their dying of the light, it’s time to reimagine new book titles for the thug in Armani, don’t you think? If Cuomo’s lucky, he can win another Emmy with a TV show on Netflix in his honor based on these killer, headline hooker titles alone. Let the alt righting book title reimagining being.

  1. That slut Blanch from the Golden Girls was going to die from a urinary track infection anyway. Wait a minute, in Florida she’d still be alive to suck a golf ball through a garden hose for another day, my bad.
  2. Ben Stiller thinks I’d play a convincing mob boss in a remake of the Goonies because I look like Mama Fratelli and the Thing had a baby. Wait a minute, who wrote this shit for me, Joan Rivers. I thought that annoying, Jew bitch was six feet under already for insisting Michelle Obama let it flop around on Ellen like she he don’t care. Joan lives. Holla, thank you very much.
  3. Trump’s shipped in hospital beds were just for show. Who cares if they got less touches than a bible at a bathhouse colony in Provincetown?
  4. I got Chris Rock to do a mask up PSA in my honor despite President Trump helping push prison reform to give his people new leases on life. I just gave BLM more rope to hang themselves with within the court of a public opinion.
  5. I destroyed the greatest city in the world in 14 months flat. What have you done with your life, besides wish the big, bad blond wolf could give me a nipple twister under the comment section on the Gateway Pundit?
  6. Born to Kill like Anthony Gnocchi.
  7. Vince Lombardi Lives
  8. Thugs in Armani Matter
  9. Broadway Blue Balls
  10. Andrew Black Eyes
  11. Destructive Mook Knows Best
  12. No, I Won’t Jump Off My Own Bridge.
  13. Reckless Endangerment Is Good
  14. Hijacking Hydroxychloroquine. Cuomo confiscated the entire supply in NY for his own personal stash and banned Doctors from prescribing it because the Italian Reptilian Inside had a surplus of body bags to fill, never mind.
  15. How to Kill Without Throwing Granny Off The Train
  16. From Good Too Imprisoned for Highly Avoidable Crimes Against Humanity.
  17. The Ponzi Push of Death
  18. The Art of Getting Away With Granny Choking On Her Pasta Fazool, metaphorically speaking.
  19. Too Big for Late Term Abortion
  20. Why I’m Smarter Than Tony Soprano
  21. Eating Meatballs Alone On Death Row
  22. The Hit Man’s Dilemma Around Real Made Men Tough Guys
  23. How to Get Banned From Rao’s For Life
  24. Dysfunctional Democrats Always Win Last

Michael Kornbluth

Serbian Big Man Mattering More

The robot at Stop and Shop is scary. I tell my son, “Don’t make fun of Lebron or he’ll report you to China.” Holla, thank you very much.

I don’t think Lebron ever got the Trump voiced GPS system. On your left is Mohegan Sun, Elizabeth Warren’s home away from home.

Shocked Lebron thinks Steph Curry should win the MVP over the Serbian big man averaging 26.4 points per game in addition to 10 plus boards and eight assists per game for Denver, almost pulling off an Oscar Robinson triple double average all season long. It’s a good thing Nikola Jokic never told a reporter during All-Star weekend, All Lives Matters, is the new n word. Or else we’d really have to really hear what terrorist siding black supremacists in the NBA really think, Kyrie Irving included. They don’t have a statue of him in China yet, do they? Holla, thank you very much.



Kyrie Irving’s ball handling skills have no equal. Too bad Kyrie has zero balls when it comes to defending the real victims of unjustified hate like Israeli kids kidnapped and killed in death tunnels by you know who. But it takes real balls to use big words like “dehumanize” to sound like Lebron 2.0, jerkoff. Also, I thought you never talk to journalists unless the questions are received in advance like Obama’s gym socket puppet. But now you care about the welfare of Palestinian terrorists in charge, hellbent on wiping Israel off the planet. I wonder why.

If I can’t get a lit agent for my book The Koshertarian Comedian or The Great American Jew Novel or from Waste Height, Really Short Stories, I’m going skip declaring bankruptcy. I’ll just take up fentanyl like George Floyd and stick up a pregnant woman with a fake news gun to score some counterfeit bills to buy some smokes at 711 before resisting arrest from the cops in hot pursuit, only to die from cardiac arrest, knowing at least then, Kyrie Irving would pay off the mortgage on my family’s house while Lebron could pay for my kids’ college on the down low. Holla, thank you very much.

It’s hard to keep your mouth shut when you spot a middle-aged white woman sporting a tie dye shirt that says Biden and Harris on it, days after the current administration in charge freed up 200 million for Hamas to finance a rocket launch party into Israel’s backyard for old time’s sake. First, I threw off the Karen and say, “Nice shirt”, duping her into thinking, I’m on her Jihadi jerkoff siding side. Next, I add, “Giving 200 million to Hamas to kill more Jews was totally done in the spirit of peace and love babe. I don’t know about you, but I’m sure team Biden calling for a ceasefire behind closed doors is really singing, “All we are saying United Nations, is give more money to Hamas to help wipe Israel off the map. So, they have a fighting chance. Holla, thank you very much.



AP news was slammed for claiming it was unaware of Hamas occupying an office in their building. Weren’t chants of fuck Madonna’s camel toe snatch during casual Friday or playing like Virgin on repeat after introducing office Karaoke on ironic causal Fridays or no female HR managers on site to fend off headhunters trying to recruit talent for Al Qaeda all dead giveaways already?

Never understood the fantasy of bedding 72 virgins. Doesn’t Jihadi John have enough blood on his hands already? Finally, Jihadi John arrives at a Motel 6 in virgin heaven allegedly. Virgin number one reveals herself to be a highly grating annoying Arabic version of Joy Behar. Booger face starts to demask and screeches, “Don’t you have enough blood on your hands already? Forget it, just whip out your skewer stick and get it over with already. But for what it’s worth, I just cleaned the sheets. So, let’s put that towel on your head to good use for a change. Oh, that’s right, your people aren’t into praising Downy fabric softener because it’s advertised as snuggle soft by some soft Jewish copywriter on Madison Avenue. Who prefers dead Palestinian babies over Haitian ones for blood cooking ceremonies if Hillary isn’t around to pressure the push over putz breath otherwise.” Hillary Hammer Time Cankles lives. Holla, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth



Israel’s Loving Feeling

I don’t know what’s more annoying. Jew hater reps in congress defending Palestinian terrorist attacks on Israel or the US media’s fawning over the marriage between Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard. You love your wife’s teen boyish backside Dax, we get it. I’d call my wife soft and generous to if I could get her into another 3 way again, 3 kids later, after that promised boob job on top, that never materialized in my favor, holla, thank you very much. And calling Kristen Bell or Dax Shepard “hilarious” is like calling Alex Rodriquez and J Lo weighty deep with subtitles for an Ingmar Bergman film retrospective on Telemundo version’s of IFC. 

And why is Dax Shepard relapsing after 18 years of sobriety national news all of a sudden? You’d think James Taylor took up heroin again in need of more than a friend. How pathetic is our current state of celebrities in our country when Dax Shepard and Kristen Bell get seated next to Jay Z and Beyonce at the Met gala? I guess, the event organizers wanted hip hop royalty to feel the least overtly threatened by any credible form of discernable, jealous inducing talent in their midst. I’m surprised Lena Dunham wasn’t plopped down next to Beyonce as a party of five, so Jay Z’s wife could feel less cheated in the looks department with no makeup on compared to the hunchback of Bushwick during Restaurant Week.

Memo to antisemitic runt, aka, Baby Face Omar. If you fire 400 rockets into Israel’s backyard, don’t expect an Edible Arrangements Gift Basket in return, with a thank you note written in Farsi.

Would the Jew hating US media prefer the LGBT community to comment on the colorful firework display of whizzing rockets lighting up the Israeli sky last night instead?  A gay right wing florist in downtown Tel Aviv rants on Medium with loaded sardonic bite, “The end of Ramadan always ushers in such a pretty sparkling sky. Who needs a vaccine stamped passport to visit Disneyland now? You can’t beat a firework display like this, especially when Biden gifts Hamas a cool 200 million to finance such a breathtaking array of sparkly spewing light. This is starry night recreationist wonder at it finest. Seth Rogen would totally light a joint to this shit although I still wouldn’t fuck him with Rashida Talib’s dick. And isn’t it adorable when Baby Face Omar describes Israel’s right to strike back as an “act of terrorism”? Personally, I’d call it an innocuous revenge fuck, but that’s just me. Let’s not act as if Israeli forces burned their Hashish crops, poisoned their chickpea farms, replaced all their rocks with rubber ball playgrounds from McDonalds and stripped the broadcast license away from Al Jazeera in a coordinated effort to delegitimize their insidious disinformation campaign about Israel being the one guilty of perpetual aggravated assault over the protracted annals of history.”

Seth Rogen won’t work with James Franco again because of sexual assault allegations against squinty. First, I know a girl who used to bang Franco who claims he has a small penis. So why would a predator force himself on a desperate actress, knowing she’s not going to feel anything but fake news casting couch distress 2 seconds after? Second, I also heard James Franco is bi-sexual, so how uncontrollably horny would you get around a d list actress knowing how gay men in general are a tad less selective and more open to giving anal a shot? Especially if James Franco mounting you from behind is the equivalent of Kristen Bell’s pinkie being jammed up your butt, as James Franco says from behind, “Let it go. If I don’t take away your anal virginity, Marilyn Manson will. Holla, thank you very much.

I’m beginning to feel like Tony Soprano because of my mom’s constant push to get me vaccinated for COVID after I already explained how the non-FDA approved, fake news vaccine has already killed 4000 Americans in the US alone. I’m also not the size of Chaz Bono’s belly button ring either. I also look after 3 kids when my mon’s in Arizona as my mother in a law reclines herself to death in a torn up Lazy Boy chair in Greenville, Delaware from 86. So, I can’t afford to get violently sick from the experimental gene therapy COVID shot or risk becoming paralyzed like Christopher Reeves without those monthly residual checks from Superman 1 through 3 arriving on our doorstep every month either. Also, I’m too busy banging out more sheets of comedy gold for my next killer set loaded comedy record to take five million more shots afterwards to fight off the latest strain of COVID from England, that will cause me to break out in varicose veins and a constellation of moles from head to toe. Last, if Don Lemon pushed his adopted trans son to get an HPV vaccination before he’s old enough to buy an Equinox gym membership in Chelsea, I’d trust his good intentions behind jamming his COVID vaccination pitch down America’s gun-shy throat with such breathless fury.

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.

Everyday Is Standing Down Day

How did the Twitter mob become scarier than Denzel in Training Day? I don’t care how many body cameras the cop is wearing. If you try to catch a criminal on the run, resisting arrest with a high resolution body camera on, the Twitter mob will still automatically brand you a racist cracker for thinking you could outrun a black guy cranked up on Crystal Meth. Next, you’ll lose your pension, a member of ANTIFA or BLM will dox your home address and the cop will be forced to accept a job as a bouncer, hired to drag out workers from cruddy office bathrooms left in Midtown Manhattan for jerking off without a mask on, as they croon in their best white southern accent, “You don’t come around here no more.”  

What incentive is there to catch criminals on the run anymore? New York City doesn’t even require bail anymore. Celebs bail out members of ANTIFA and BLM because they love the idea of terrorizing anyone who voted for Trump who dares to try eating Al Fresco in peace and quiet ever again. Imagine being harassed by ANTIFA protestors for wearing a white polo shirt the day after Labor Day while dining Al Fresco on the Upper East Side? The research analyst for Barclays Bank finally loses his temper and yells, “Fuck your charges of White Priveledge ANTIFA. You white motherfuckers in black hoodies don’t stay in jail for shit. I buy my polo shirts at the Salvation Army just like Vampire Weekend. I also work for an English bank, so I’m obviously down with open border takeovers mate.”

Cuomo blocks ICE from using the NYPD database to catch rapist criminals who don’t belong in our country in the 1st place. Because homeland security was so Weapons of Mass Destruction Years.  But turning our cities into safe space sanctuaries for thug lives matters most, will make our cities great again. Is it me or are sanctuary cities the equivalent of legalized lawlessness on crack? Fuck, today in your New York City you can be fined 25-grand for using hurtful language on Illegal Aliens such as, “No speak English.” Whose translating these insults for Juan exactly? Now, all illegal immigrants in NY, regardless of getting testing for COVID or not, get a free Driver’s License to vote Democrat and a hate speech translator to bankrupt Apu at a Bodega in Flushing, holla, thank you very much.

Cops have lost all incentive to catch criminals on the run. Or they’ll be charged with being white supremacists for refusing to take a knee, even if their fat asses require taking a breather after packing on the COVID 50 for refusing to socially distance from more donuts and carbs for the past 15 months and counting.

So, unless a cop wants to be branded as a troublemaking Serpico in the making, they’re better off noshing on Jamaican beef patties and sticking to serving arrest warrants for Rabbis reopening Yeshiva schools in the name of sanity preservation science. At least, Orthodox woman are allowed to show their 20 kids TV, holed up in a 2 bedroom walkup with no AC.

But seriously, cops today are accountable for policing the way Lebron is held accountable for traveling with his head down into congested traffic during the NBA finals.

If cops don’t give a criminal in pursuit, a chance to get away by giving them a head start of least 80 million Mississippi, then you don’t care about affirmative action or evening the playing field for fatherless kids acting out against all forms of authority as a result at large.

Do undercover cops even exist anymore? Or has that unit of the NYPD been defunded all together? Mask mandates make everyone look incognito these days, so what difference does it make? Holla, thank you very much.

If an undercover cop takes a knee, it means he’s still down with wearing Nike Sweatsuits no matter what.

Cops have so much free time on their hands these days, they’ve signed up for baking classes at the 92 Street Y. They’re making ravioli from scratch. At least Fireman still run into the line of fire, thank you very much.

Fireman shouldn’t get too attached to their hoses, especially if they’re being used to cool off ANTIFA when they try to burn down a marine recruitment office in Berkley whenever the big, bad, Ben Shapiro is planned to give another dronish speech on how to own Marxists masked as do good Democrats for hire.

Community policing, whatever that is, is where our country is heading, the more you see cops cruising in police cars with their masks still on. Keep the mask on cop. You don’t want the FBI raiding your home to haul your ass to jail for pirated cable just so you can watch more Newsmax retrospectives on fake news charges of widespread election fraud to commemorate Biden’s fist 100 days in office, since the day Democracy died.   King Kong ain’t got shit on ANTIFA and BLM Mahoney, More jokes GenX dads understand, holla, thank you very much,.

Michael Kornbluth

An Egg and Cheese State Of Mind

Being a native New Yorker I always detested the putz in front of me who ordered a roll with butter at the deli. It was always hard to restrain myself from yelling, “That order, never went out of style, a roll with butter. Then again, that order never had style.” My attitude is either order an egg and cheese at the deli or not, although I still got grief at the deli pre-COVID whenever I’d order an egg and cheese without specifying the inclusion of crispy, crackling, bacon or not, before I became a full time practicing Koshertarian Comedian. Deli guy asks with bemused matter of fact disgust, “That’s it, just an egg and cheese, no bacon? I snap back with, with equal matched pissed, ball busting fervor, “Yeah, egg and cheese only. Is my hangover order not manly enough for your standards, Dominick I Ain’t Fag Scholanti? And why don’t Italian Guidos get credit for being the original metrosexuals of their day? My people the Jews, didn’t keep Tanning Beds R Us in business throughout the eighties and nineties, no did we dare spike our hair, in pink polos in candy necklaces on spring break in Cancun, until Guido nation made it popular first. Eighties Guido Italians ruled the fashion scene back in the day. Even tough guy sounding Italian Jews like Andrew Dice Clay would pronounce in the eighties loud and proud in front of a sold-out Madison Square Garden, “Anna Wintour, I fucked her, oh. Who cares if she looks like an albino ET in a wig and Stella McCartney shades? Oh, I can’t take no more.”  

The everlasting allure of delis for New Yorkers, isn’t the random, mishmash salad bar, unless you’re a colorless, hipless, Research Analyst for JP Morgan Chase who’s never passed out on the couch without brushing her teeth first. New Yorkers native or adopted, don’t love their bodegas or delis for their normally bland, too chunky, mayo-soaked chicken cutlet on a day-old Kaiser roll either. New Yorkers love their delis and bodegas, New York lingo for 24/7 open degentrified delis in reverse, because of the revered, never taken for granted, egg and cheese order, without having to specify roll ever or sandwich. Unless you want to be a totally tubby bitch and overcompensate for not eating bacon anymore and ask the pretty chesty, Italian Deli owner, in Duchess, County, who matches your flirty gaze every time, to make your dare I say egg and cheese sandwich on a sesame loaded hero, role with 2 slices of American cheese, salt and pepper, no ketchup, but some hot sauce on top and I’m in heaven, inhaling it with ravenous delight in my car 2 seconds later, at one with this ingenious breakfast start me up creation, wanting to shave with it, if I still shaved on a regular basis, feeling it’s presence nearer, as we press cheek to cheek, Irving Berlin lives, holla, thank you very much.

Last night, I spotted a leftover brioche roll and decided to make my daughter an egg and cheese sandwich this morning to earn her respect and appreciation for the holiest of holiest NY Institutions, no not UCB or the People’s Improv Theater, but a bomb egg and cheese, which makes commuting to the city a tad more tolerable and exciting, despite Manhattan being deader these days than Kurt Cobain’s shot at still winning father of the year. Post COVID or not, not every major retail institution in Manhattan was bound to go under sooner or later such as Century 21 by Ground Zero, still can’t call it the Freedom Tower Memorial Square Park, sorry. But it would get fucking super weird fast, if all the delis and bodegas in NY started dropping like flies. New York City running out of delis and bodegas to order an egg and cheeses is like McDonald’s running out of soda or BLM running out of excuses to riot or commit more hate crimes like killing happy spewing Asian sex workers in Atlanta because white supremacy turned our cities into safe space sanctuaries for Thugs Lives Matters most, got it.

Understand, I’ve already gotten my 2 boys into the egg and cheese, yet my daughter has been less an enthralled because my versions have been too “eggy” for her taste.  So, this morning, I became determined to win my daughter over with the everlasting allure of the scrumptious, cheesy, mac daddy, egg, and cheese. The Egg and Cheese is so New York, Weird Al would’ve given it a plug in the Eat It Video, if he didn’t grow up in Downy, California, where your only breakfast grub options are breakfast burritos, which don’t tumble onto your plate in an avalanche of disorganized smutz if you’re lucky. And good luck finding a deli or bodega of any kind in LA that makes an egg and cheese past last call at a hard 1 in the Land of Blue Balls Strained Dreams. Sure, I can wait 5 hours to be seated at an airy, sunny, brunch spot, around guys twice as good looking as me who never struggled to fit into a size 34 in their life, only to blow 15 bucks on an egg and cheese with freaking arugula, spicy mayo, more Italian fontina freaking cheese and extra thick cut Berkshire bacon, but I’m not a working actor in SAG or a sitcom staffed TV writer in the WGA either just yet, so that fantasy equipped with a personal trainer to help me slip into a pair of semi tight, grey jeans with a 34 waist for more killer stand up sets at Improv on Melrose isn’t happening tomorrow for me either. And our comedy clubs even open in LA these days? Imagine Dave Chappelle drop by the Comedy Store on Sunset, scan the crowd for a second and blurt out, “I’ve been selling out the Apollo since I was 19, what’s this 50 percent capacity shit? Who do you think I am, Cedric The Entertainer? Holla, thank very much.”

The Egg and Cheese is a NY Institution like 24-hour Greek diners frequented by your little Greek Landlord and pick up street ball games where the brothers call fake news fouls only against less athletic white boys when the game is on the line. In short, I’d fail as a proud New Yorker Dad for letting my daughter give up on the egg and cheese so soon. It would be worse than me letting her tune out Nasty NAS on Illmatic, his 5-star masterpiece according to the Source, the hip hop Rolling Stone, after the album starts a tad snoozier slow than you recall like the start of Spies Like Us, despite those killer rhymes being tougher than Dice, holla, thank you very much.

In the end, I fried up an American cheese omelet in a non-stick pan, always the best, plopped it between a fried-up brioche roll in butter with some semi-generous sprinklings of Frank’s Hot Sauce, the training wheels of hot sauce on top and my work was done. My daughter was sold on rock steady allure of the greasy, bustling, NY Institution classic. Egg and Cheese Merchant institutions in the forms of last standing delis and bodegas in NY City, my city, who come in all colors and sizes, will never die like the Goonies, unless they do some shitty remake with Juno playing the lead for diversity dividing sake.

Michael Kornbluth

Mr. San Diego

Grilled fish tacos are lame, especially the ones from Baja Fresh, a popular health-conscious LA fast food chain, where your sense of charming individuality and personalized edge flat line to death and die. Are grilled fish tacos healthier than battered fried ones? Did Tony Gwynn strike out less than a teen George Brett at Daytona Beach on Spring Break?  Also, did the 8-time batting champion, who batted .391 in 94, who hit .412 against the equally nerdy Greg Maddox in the post season, ever leave the impression, he’d spray even more doubles all over Petco Stadium if he went on a diet with Kirby Puckett and only ate In and Out Burgers ATKINS style, using lettuce as buns instead?  If you’ve never made your own homemade Big Ups Batter Up Beer Batter Baja Fish Tacos or never sampled the all-star goods from San Diego founded, famed fast food Tex-Mex chain Rubio’s, to inhale their battered fish burrito in 7 bites max, then your life sucks more than the snotty clogged Lupus from the Bad News Bear, before he snags a high fly ball over right field and chants with sudden clear voiced, take no shit bravado, “Just wait till next year”, before pouring beer on Miguel who looks like the uncoordinated Latino Tony Gwyn in the making.

Now, I’ve fried up Icelandic Cod using the standard, eggs, flour and panko breadcrumbs, or from using homemade discarded breadcrumbs ones, blah, blah, blah, yet all those crispy exteriors, even the non-blotchy, all covering coating jobs were flimsier than Wade Boggs power numbers against Roger Clemens during batting practice compared to my Lagunitas infused beer battered one. Regardless, if Nolan Ryan drank the cocksure Roger Clemens under the table the previous night and beat his ass in darts with overpowering, clutch precision, only to throw the upstart hothead into a crippling headlock for trying to call fake news bullseyes one too many times over a high stakes game of darts during All-Star weekend in Houston, when Robert Redford was deemed young enough to play the Natural because the casting director wanted a more stoic, wooden version of Kevin Costner if possible.

Big Ups Batter Up Beer Batter slams all other breaded exterior concoctions out of the park by providing far superior crunch, snap and pop like Barry Bonds on the HGH, before his balls become the size of gumballs, better suited for the kid in the Bazooka Joe comic strips back in the day. Still, the added juicy, crackling oomph my Lagunitas IPA beer batter, mixed with rice flour, flour and baking powder required more rounded out flavor to make this Baja fish taco, the go to hot dog substitute to snag at the ballgame in Petco Field where the San Diego Padres play because HGH alone wasn’t responsible for Barry Bond’s breaking, Hammering Hank’s homerun record, knowing if I took steroids at sleepaway camp, I just would’ve struck at a more accelerated speed. If you’re going to make a consistently clutch, hit heavy Baja fish taco from home, you must add more boogie down balance and funky snap by rounding out the lineup  with a homemade pickled, purple cabbage slaw with jalapenos and Mexican oregano in addition to spreading the mini warmed flour tortilla with plenty of sumptuous, chipotle adobe mayo crema love, lined with plenty of chili powdered, in your face, spiky kick like the edge of Ty Cobb’s extra sparkly cleats up your ass, as he flew home like a bat out of hell in another blaze of natural born killer glory.

The Baja Fish tacos were a real hit with my kids, earning plenty of, “delicious nods”, so much so that I decided to make it a double header and serve them on back-to-back to nights this past weekend, doing my best hit heavy, consistently clutch, Mr. Sand Diego impression with endless joy spewing, Spring Training is almost here cheer.  For back-to-back nights, in our humble east coast Abode, Tony Gwynn, Mr. San Diego, the 1st ballot hall of famer, who would’ve most likely hit 400 or higher similar to Ted Williams during the abbreviated 94 strike seasoned lived again, especially knowing he didn’t become so pleasantly plump like fellow high average hitting sluggers such as John Kruck in the 90’s from sticking to protein shakes and black bean soup for after double header game feasts to. Even Don Mattingly, Mr. Neat, would’ve gotten his mustache and pristine pinstripes drenched in the crema from these Big Ups Batter Up Beer Battered Baja Fish Tacos, to eat his little hometown blues away, especially after the 94-strike season killed his shot at playing for the Yankees in the World Series, only to rip the ball off its seams into his favorite go to right field pocket in the House That Ruth Built, to make his own childhood Natural fantasy come true to.

Michael Kornbluth