Put Your Uncle Sam Sales Hat On

Did you know America is in the midst of a coin shortage right now? In a post COVID world, we can’t stomach the idea of looking at the significant others we live with one second longer, so we’ve taken up coin collecting to maximize face time with Dead presidents while taking up the most boring hobby again instead. Wife yells from downstairs, “What are you doing honey bun?” Husband yells back, “I’m working on my coin collection babe. It’s our country’s new favorite hobby after prayer shaming, spitting on Vets graves and trivializing the Holocaust through banning the Pledge of Allegiance because we live under Big Tech’s rule, especially since Good Will Hoodie at Facebook sold his soul to the Chinese Ministry Of Truth. Who cares if Chinese made fentanyl has killed more crackers in this country than Taylor Swift kicking with Lena Dunham on Instagram? Who cares if Facebook has anointed China as the ultimate judge of good versus evil, despite the Corona virus made in China being responsible for your dad having to give his mother in England only a virtual kiss goodbye on her death bed? But at the least the New Yorker will know better to start every Zoom call now moving forward with, “Hands up high Toobin, where I can see them. You’re having a hard time getting a grip over the fact that Hunter Biden is starting to make Charlie Sheen look like slacker underachiever, I get it. But take a load off on your own time and don’t come around our Zoom calls no more.”

So, if you’re a parent in America today, who’s not enthralled with the prospect of enabling a future generation of ungrateful, hate filled Punisher vigilantes for ANTIFA or intent on blowing a mini fortune on an Ivy league education for your only kid to become a glaringly unoriginal, uppity, knee-jerk reactionary, blah breath hack reporter like Jefferey Toobin for the New Yorker, then I’d start selling your kids early on why patriotism matters because our schools won’t anymore. My kid’s elementary school just canceled the Pledge Of Allegiance. Will my kids school cancel Apple Pie next because it’s too aggressively cheery for kids raised on 13 Reasons Why? I never received an email from my kids school about why they canceled the Pledge of Allegiance although I suspect the expression “under God” was no longer deemed inclusive enough for the parental sect of east coast atheists who send their kids there, intent on sucking off their Gods like Bill Maher till their last dying breath. Plus, if working parents today want to keep their jobs, they must show a commitment to improve their social justice righting credit score at work by only retweeting AOC tweets comparing our border detention facilities with centralized AC, designed to stop rampant sex trafficking of minors to Nazi death camps. Plus, parents today need to be equipped with endless President Trump insults at the tips of their tongues to remain uncanceled by their far younger, mope maligned Millennial Mouseketeer coworkers over shared Taco Tuesdays, since eating lunch within their walled in office of yesteryear is now branded too alt right white collar xenophobic for their ad tech startup tastes.

It’s beyond time for American parents today to assume the responsibility of selling our kids on the importance of patriotism because respect for our elders today is lower than Hunter Biden’s Yelp rating for the Mac Shop he forgot existed until the NY Post reported on it, in Wilmington, Delaware. But parents today can still entrust Netflix, EPSN, CNN, the NY Times and especially Twitter, to teach their kids the importance of standing up for the National Anthem and putting their hands over their hearts for it at ballgames instead of futzing with their smart phones to watch Tommy Lee videos on Instagram, shouting at fake news Devils. Yeah, and Judd Apatow is the Chief Happiness Officer for Breitbart.

When I push my kids on the swing, I assume the persona of Sly Stone from the original Woodstock and sing with real deal fly guy feeling, “I’m going to take you higher.” How does this playful sing-along push routine teach my kids patriotism matters? Because I tell my kids Sly Stone was a star voice behind a prideful, black nationalist musical movement in the sixties, which was a source of empowerment, not divisive derision, which didn’t command whitey to never eat in peace in a restaurant patio again.

I teach my kids patriotism, which is love of country, by teaching them about the great melting pot New York City is, which boasts more than 200 dialects, so insisting only black lives matter insults a boatload of other immigrant sects. I teach patriotism to my kids by emoting about the greatest Moderate Muslim of all time Muhammad Ali, who floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee, inspiring other mouthy kids from Louisville, Kentucky to boast to Dad, “One day, that’s going to be me.”  My 3-year old son requests Jimi Hendrix Blues on vinyl, what about yours? So, stop acting like teaching your kids about patriotism is such a white nationalist laden snore.

My 9-year-old daughter knows Joan Jett is a lesbian punk rocker who sang Love Is Pain but made it big in the face of discrimination for refusing to be the same.

At night before story time, I mix it up and tell my kids about how Walt Clyde Frazier beats Dr. Seuss as the coolest cat of rhyme who lead the Knicks past the Lakers in 73 at the Garden by dishing 19 dimes.  My kids hug American flags in the street, because I’ve shown them pictures of President Trump doing the same, which is pretty sweet, proving infectious love of old glory is hard to beat.

I teach my kids that taking a knee is the equivalent to kicking Nazi destroyers in the nuts and spitting on Vets graves, housing those unfortunate drafted sons who Jesus could never save.  I teach my 3-year old son love of country for pointing out how America the Beautiful gave birth to thrash metal guitar great Dave Mustaine, by showing him a clip on YouTube of him playing the Star Spangled Banner at a Little League game, which inspired my head banging son to say, “I’m going to play that one day.” Patriotism sells, so put your Uncle Sam sales hat on and soon enough, your kids will be hugging flags down on main street to.   

Michael Kornbluth

No More Bud Troubles

Old roommate in LA says, “I think you smoke too much weed because you have no friends out here.” Dan did have a point. The psychoactive green did keep my pangs of deep rooted loneliness at bay over TV showings of the Howard Stern Show on E before he became weird, weak, woke, Howard and started his non-stop apology tour for being the egotistical prick he always was to ensure he still got invited to Jimmy Kimmel’s house for more 2 bite Chicken Parm dinners. 

My ex-girlfriend and TV spec script writing partner who became my roommate soon after encouraged me to take an overdue break from the weed to unleash my full expressive potential, so I could get paid as a funny man freak on a leash writer who would become a proud member of the WGA one day. We wrote TV spec scripts together for shows such as Curb Your Enthusiasm, my favorite spec being the one I wrote without her called Passion Of Schmendel, during one my purifications off the weed, because according to my psychic in West Hollywood, my Chakras were more clogged than my freshman one hitter. I wrote the TV spec script before I learned the national weed holiday 4/20 is actually Hitler’s birthday to, which at the time, made me feel more betrayed than when I learned Sylvester Stallone snuck Mel Gibson into Expendables 3. 

My former life of being an abusive, live to binge pothead, caused me more friendship bud troubles, than I’d like to admit, until I became a semi-functioning IT Headhunter when I was 22 years old in LA, paying rent on my own finally, so I didn’t feel too much like a sheltered bum anymore. Developing a love for comedic storytelling and joke writing along the way, has given me a sturdier sense of self for almost 2 decades now, as I keep chipping away at the stone, to unearth more sheets of comedy gold to take an eventual victory lap in a comedy gold mobile of my own.  

I finally made more than a stoner bud, when I met Jay from LA at an IT staffing firm in Century City where I did new business development and recruitment, cold calling decision makers twice my age 10 hours a day like a poor man’s Vin Diesel in Boiler Room. We started to become more than buds after Jay from LA urged me to leave my writing partner girlfriend who I was living with at the time, because he could tell from my sigh heavy veneer, whenever she’d call me at work, that she was sucking my life force dry man. Plus, Jay encouraged me to leave our current company and go work with him at his old IT staffing firm, which he regretted leaving already, located in the more idyllic, Beach Boys music magic making area of Manhattan Beach in Southern California and we’ve been more than stoner buds ever since. We eventually became roommates in Sherman Oaks in the valley, during my 1st year of zero laugh generation open mike stand up, when I’d open with jokes such as, “I’m so broke, my Hebrew name is under judicial review.” I can’t even stare at an actress on Melrose without being fined for insufficient funds.” During our roommate stint together, I got on the show Blind Date, yet all I got out of the show was a free meal and Herpes. 

After I self-published my 1st 2 books, Controlling My Kids With Comedy, A Love Story, and Do It All Dad Does Jokes, I called Jay and told him I wanted to celebrate in style by seeing Aerosmith belt out Chip Away At The Stone together in Vegas, because that’s what I wanted to do, which he got us primo tickets for, making it top priority of the summer.

So, what’s my message for the youth today, to help preserve their special spark? First, don’t smoke weed in high school because your brains aren’t fully developed yet. Plus, we’re not all productive stoners on the sacramental herb that grew on King Solomon’s grave, the way rude boy Bob Marely was on it. Now, when you’re done with college and been at a job for more than year without getting fired, feel free to reward yourself with a one hitter of the herb, which is easier to enjoy paranoid free, once your identity is more fully formed on top of you having a more fleshed out idea about what you’d like to dedicate your life towards, besides recreating the stony induced giggles from the watching the Dark Crystal on sprayed weed from the Bronx that tastes like Windex. Also, it’s much more rewarding in life to be a creator innovator of some kind than being another stale sounding, consumer critic on the rag like the rest. Last, don’t let your scrumptious green inhalation become an all-consuming life suck, which prevents you from getting out into the real world to develop longer lasting, life enriching friendships compared to stoner buds from high school or in college, which easily fade away.

I love my friend Jay from LA for deriving endless joy from my rising comedic mojo and for never urging me to tone down my highly inappropriate edge, where I act like the entire world outside the house is an open mike to sample material on and kill loudly with. The same friend who reviewed my pre-election audio book comedy special, Resist This on Kobo without me ever asking him to do, after walking in on me rehearsing awful attempts at jokes in front of the mirror 15 years prior back in our old bachelor pad in Sherman Oaks, California during my 1st year of zero laugh generation open mike stand up,  which makes Jay from LA much more than a stoner bud to me.   

Michael Kornbluth 

Put Your Uncle Sam Sales Hat On

Did you know America is in the midst of a coin shortage right now? In a post COVID world, we can’t stomach the idea of looking at the significant others we live with one second longer, so we’ve taken up coin collecting to maximize face time with Dead presidents while taking up the most boring hobby again instead. Wife yells from downstairs, “What are you doing honey bun?” Husband yells back, “I’m working on my coin collection babe. It’s our country’s new favorite hobby after prayer shaming, spitting on Vets graves and trivializing the Holocaust through banning the Pledge of Allegiance because we live under Big Tech’s rule, especially since Good Will Hoodie at Facebook sold his soul to the Chinese Ministry Of Truth. Who cares if Chinese made fentanyl has killed more crackers in this country than Taylor Swift kicking with Lena Dunham on Instagram? Who cares if Facebook has anointed China as the ultimate judge of good versus evil, despite the Corona virus made in China being responsible for your dad having to give his mother in England only a virtual kiss goodbye on her death bed? But at the least the New Yorker will know better to start every Zoom call now moving forward with, “Hands up high Toobin, where I can see them. You’re having a hard time getting a grip over the fact that Hunter Biden is starting to make Charlie Sheen look like slacker underachiever, I get it. But take a load off on your own time and don’t come around our Zoom calls no more.”

So, if you’re a parent in America today, who’s not enthralled with the prospect of enabling a future generation of ungrateful, hate filled Punisher vigilantes for ANTIFA or intent on blowing a mini fortune on an Ivy league education for your only kid to become a glaringly unoriginal, uppity, knee-jerk reactionary, blah breath hack reporter like Jefferey Toobin for the New Yorker, then I’d start selling your kids early on why patriotism matters because our schools won’t anymore. My kid’s elementary school just canceled the Pledge Of Allegiance. Will my kids school cancel Apple Pie next because it’s too aggressively cheery for kids raised on 13 Reasons Why? I never received an email from my kids school about why they canceled the Pledge of Allegiance although I suspect the expression “under God” was no longer deemed inclusive enough for the parental sect of east coast atheists who send their kids there, intent on sucking off their Gods like Bill Maher till their last dying breath. Plus, if working parents today want to keep their jobs, they must show a commitment to improve their social justice righting credit score at work by only retweeting AOC tweets comparing our border detention facilities with centralized AC, designed to stop rampant sex trafficking of minors to Nazi death camps. Plus, parents today need to be equipped with endless President Trump insults at the tips of their tongues to remain uncanceled by their far younger, mope maligned Millennial Mouseketeer coworkers over shared Taco Tuesdays, since eating lunch within their walled in office of yesteryear is now branded too alt right white collar xenophobic for their ad tech startup tastes.

It’s beyond time for American parents today to assume the responsibility of selling our kids on the importance of patriotism because respect for our elders today is lower than Hunter Biden’s Yelp rating for the Mac Shop he forgot existed until the NY Post reported on it, in Wilmington, Delaware. But parents today can still entrust Netflix, EPSN, CNN, the NY Times and especially Twitter, to teach their kids the importance of standing up for the National Anthem and putting their hands over their hearts for it at ballgames instead of futzing with their smart phones to watch Tommy Lee videos on Instagram, shouting at fake news Devils. Yeah, and Judd Apatow is the Chief Happiness Officer for Breitbart.

When I push my kids on the swing, I assume the persona of Sly Stone from the original Woodstock and sing with real deal fly guy feeling, “I’m going to take you higher.” How does this playful sing-along push routine teach my kids patriotism matters? Because I tell my kids Sly Stone was a star voice behind a prideful, black nationalist musical movement in the sixties, which was a source of empowerment, not divisive derision, which didn’t command whitey to never eat in peace in a restaurant patio again.

I teach my kids patriotism, which is love of country, by teaching them about the great melting pot New York City is, which boasts more than 200 dialects, so insisting only black lives matter insults a boatload of other immigrant sects. I teach patriotism to my kids by emoting about the greatest Moderate Muslim of all time Muhammad Ali, who floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee, inspiring other mouthy kids from Louisville, Kentucky to boast to Dad, “One day, that’s going to be me.”  My 3-year old son requests Jimi Hendrix Blues on vinyl, what about yours? So, stop acting like teaching your kids about patriotism is such a white nationalist laden snore.

My 9-year-old daughter knows Joan Jett is a lesbian punk rocker who sang Love Is Pain but made it big in the face of discrimination for refusing to be the same.

At night before story time, I mix it up and tell my kids about how Walt Clyde Frazier beats Dr. Seuss as the coolest cat of rhyme who lead the Knicks past the Lakers in 73 at the Garden by dishing 19 dimes.  My kids hug American flags in the street, because I’ve shown them pictures of President Trump doing the same, which is pretty sweet, proving infectious love of old glory is hard to beat.

I teach my kids that taking a knee is the equivalent to kicking Nazi destroyers in the nuts and spitting on Vets graves, housing those unfortunate drafted sons who Jesus could never save.  I teach my 3-year old son love of country for pointing out how America the Beautiful gave birth to thrash metal guitar great Dave Mustaine, by showing him a clip on YouTube of him playing the Star Spangled Banner at a Little League game, which inspired my head banging son to say, “I’m going to play that one day.” Patriotism sells, so put your Uncle Sam sales hat on and soon enough, your kids will be hugging flags down on main street to.   

Michael Kornbluth

Do It All Dad Does Jokes Does Audio

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Thank you WordPress peeps for your steady doses of emotive encouragement and sustained interest in my development of new material as I chip away at the stone to bang out more sheets of comedy gold.

Warmest Regards,

Michael Kornbluth

Obama Be Meh

Eddie Van Halen dies and David Crosby in his most understated, Garfield ballooning in the yard, yawningly boring way, while still pining for the days when Hendrix used to blow his mind so hard, tweets, “Meh.” Because baby boomer arrogance never dies, and David Crosby is the lamest, least rocking, most overrated fake news hippie of the pack.

The most annoyingly gnawing problem with balding, pony tailed, fake news hippies like David Crosby and George Carlin who viewed tsunamis on CNN as must see entertainment towards the end of his illustrious stand-up comedy career against his dying of the light, is their perpetually bitchy, dissing disposition as if they were the Vietnam vets who got spit on main street back home or the starving no name, burnout casualties of the acid rock era in the sixties, who were reduced to eating stray cats to stay alive throughout the acid crazed streets of San Francisco.  

Plus, how can any member of Gen X not be enraged by the glaring non-stop, crosstown traffic hypocrisy exhibited by fake news hippies at nauseum, by whole heartedly endorsing the endlessly divisive, on air drivel out of NPR, whenever another zero gravitas exuding political pundit questions the mental health of President Trump compared to the non-stop jilted hysteria of Nancy Denture Beath Pelosi, who thinks she’s  the one glowing with a divine blessed spark, as she tears up the President’s State Of The Union speech on live TV, looking like the tweaked out grannie from Requiem for Dream in Armani.   

My parents are guilty of being fake news hippies to, for living in Scottsdale, Arizona for the past 9 years and not once visiting the Grand Canyon, which doesn’t require a hit of Acid to invoke the haunting presence of an older than Earth God, man. You also know you’re a fake news hippie, when you call the President an idiot like David Crosby did, when you’re the one who became a white privileged freebase junkie alcoholic wacko who makes Hunter Biden look like a serial underachiever in comparison. President Trump is smart enough to not suck off Obama Be Meh till his last dying breath, knowing his predecessor’s major foreign policy accomplishment was rebranding ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times.

This is my impression of President Trump debating Greta Thunberg on the threat of climate change being a more imminent disaster in the making than Obama Be Meh gifting Iran 150 billion dollars to finance more worldwide terror on par with the making of the second Death Star in The Empire Strikes Back. President Trump says, “Greta, fracking reduces our Co2 emissions.” Greta freaks out immediately and says, “So Neil Young is full of shit now?” President Trump says, “Neil Young doesn’t believe in taking showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So that much you share in common babe.” Also, you’re a fake news hippie if you grew up in the age of free love before Magic made HIV disappear and have the gaul to judge your former bandmate Neil Young for leaving his wife of 35 years to date Daryl Hannah because he’s going through a post mid-life never banged a Mermaid crisis.

In the new Cameron Crowe doc about David Crosby, Remember My Name, you learn that not one of his former bandmates from CSNY have anything to do with him now because of his tendency to belittle his former brothers in arms who helped bless him with the most high end hippiedom lifestyle possible before going to jail and almost squandering it all to freebase more coke. And I thought Hunter Biden was a spoiled, ungrateful degenerate, who got paid 50 grand a month by an energy company in the Ukraine he thought was selling Borscht as the new Kombucha.

President Trump is the most anti-war President of all time, who hasn’t gotten us involved in any military entanglements or wars under his watch, unlike Nixon or W, so drop some more CBD, overrated, fake news hippie boomers.

President Trump has authorized his Orthodox Jewish son-in-law Jared Kushner, I know total Nazi, to normalize relations between Israel and various Arab neighbors like The United Arab of Emirates and Bahrain in less time it takes Jared to burst with joy with Ivanka talking dirty to him in Mandarin again. So President Trump actually deserves the Nobel Peace Prize compared to fake news hippies like Obama Be Good who just nuke gifted Iran, let ISIS run wild and weaponized our intelligence agencies by getting them to spy on the Trump campaign through the ridiculous granting of FISA warrants to do so, based on a paid for, planted story from the DNC about Russian collusion with less legs than Lieutenant Dan.    

Plus, you’re also a fake news hippie, if you condemn the Kent State shootings in a song, but not the shooting of a peaceful, Trump supporter by a member of ANTIFA in Portlandia during this past summer of love. Last, President Trump has never done a bump of coke or had a drink of alcohol in his life, so let’s stop acting like overrated fake news new hippies like David Crosby are such alleged stable geniuses in comparison for acting like his life is flush was one smart decision after another. And if Obama Be Meh was blessed with such a beautiful, all knowing mind, then why did he let his daughter, Malia intern for Miramax exactly? Imagine that conversation during Thanksgiving this year. Obama says, “Malia, what’s wrong?  You barely touched your Tofurky.” Malia says, “All my woke friend’s at Harvard don’t know why you let me intern for Harvey Weinstein at Miramax dad.” Obama says, “Quit bugging Malia. Michelle was your chaperone on the set of Girls and that fat Jew couldn’t pin down Michelle if he tried. But I still don’t know what Hillary was thinking hiring Lena Dunham as her Social Media Community Manager. Only Lena Dunham could make Hillary less likeable and relatable in one blubbery swoop.”

Michael Kornbluth

Obama Be Meh

Eddie Van Halen dies and David Crosby in his most understated, Garfield ballooning in the yard, yawningly boring way, while still pining for the days when Hendrix used to blow his mind so hard, tweets, “Meh.” Because baby boomer arrogance never dies, and David Crosby is the lamest, least rocking, most overrated fake news hippie of the pack.

The most annoyingly gnawing problem with balding, pony tailed, fake news hippies like David Crosby and George Carlin who viewed tsunamis on CNN as must see entertainment towards the end of his illustrious stand-up comedy career against his dying of the light, is their perpetually bitchy, dissing disposition as if they were the Vietnam vets who got spit on main street back home or the starving no name, burnout casualties of the acid rock era in the sixties, who were reduced to eating stray cats to stay alive throughout the acid crazed streets of San Francisco.  

Plus, how can any member of Gen X not be enraged by the glaring non-stop, crosstown traffic hypocrisy exhibited by fake news hippies at nauseum, by whole heartedly endorsing the endlessly divisive, on air drivel out of NPR, whenever another zero gravitas exuding political pundit questions the mental health of President Trump compared to the non-stop jilted hysteria of Nancy Denture Beath Pelosi, who thinks she’s  the one glowing with a divine blessed spark, as she tears up the President’s State Of The Union speech on live TV, looking like the tweaked out grannie from Requiem for Dream in Armani.   

My parents are guilty of being fake news hippies to, for living in Scottsdale, Arizona for the past 9 years and not once visiting the Grand Canyon, which doesn’t require a hit of Acid to invoke the haunting presence of an older than Earth God, man. You also know you’re a fake news hippie, when you call the President an idiot like David Crosby did, when you’re the one who became a white privileged freebase junkie alcoholic wacko who makes Hunter Biden look like a serial underachiever in comparison. President Trump is smart enough to not suck off Obama Be Meh till his last dying breath, knowing his predecessor’s major foreign policy accomplishment was rebranding ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times.

This is my impression of President Trump debating Greta Thunberg on the threat of climate change being a more imminent disaster in the making than Obama Be Meh gifting Iran 150 billion dollars to finance more worldwide terror on par with the making of the second Death Star in The Empire Strikes Back. President Trump says, “Greta, fracking reduces our Co2 emissions.” Greta freaks out immediately and says, “So Neil Young is full of shit now?” President Trump says, “Neil Young doesn’t believe in taking showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So that much you share in common babe.” Also, you’re a fake news hippie if you grew up in the age of free love before Magic made HIV disappear and have the gaul to judge your former bandmate Neil Young for leaving his wife of 35 years to date Daryl Hannah because he’s going through a post mid-life never banged a Mermaid crisis.

In the new Cameron Crowe doc about David Crosby, Remember My Name, you learn that not one of his former bandmates from CSNY have anything to do with him now because of his tendency to belittle his former brothers in arms who helped bless him with the most high end hippiedom lifestyle possible before going to jail and almost squandering it all to freebase more coke. And I thought Hunter Biden was a spoiled, ungrateful degenerate, who got paid 50 grand a month by an energy company in the Ukraine he thought was selling Borscht as the new Kombucha.

President Trump is the most anti-war President of all time, who hasn’t gotten us involved in any military entanglements or wars under his watch, unlike Nixon or W, so drop some more CBD, overrated, fake news hippie boomers.

President Trump has authorized his Orthodox Jewish son-in-law Jared Kushner, I know total Nazi, to normalize relations between Israel and various Arab neighbors like The United Arab of Emirates and Bahrain in less time it takes Jared to burst with joy with Ivanka talking dirty to him in Mandarin again. So President Trump actually deserves the Nobel Peace Prize compared to fake news hippies like Obama Be Good who just nuke gifted Iran, let ISIS run wild and weaponized our intelligence agencies by getting them to spy on the Trump campaign through the ridiculous granting of FISA warrants to do so, based on a paid for, planted story from the DNC about Russian collusion with less legs than Lieutenant Dan.    

Plus, you’re also a fake news hippie, if you condemn the Kent State shootings in a song, but not the shooting of a peaceful, Trump supporter by a member of ANTIFA in Portlandia during this past summer of love. Last, President Trump has never done a bump of coke or had a drink of alcohol in his life, so let’s stop acting like overrated fake news new hippies like David Crosby are such alleged stable geniuses in comparison for acting like his life is flush was one smart decision after another. And if Obama Be Meh was blessed with such a beautiful, all knowing mind, then why did he let his daughter, Malia intern for Miramax exactly? Imagine that conversation during Thanksgiving this year. Obama says, “Malia, what’s wrong?  You barely touched your Tofurky.” Malia says, “All my woke friend’s at Harvard don’t know why you let me intern for Harvey Weinstein at Miramax dad.” Obama says, “Quit bugging Malia. Michelle was your chaperone on the set of Girls and that fat Jew couldn’t pin down Michelle if he tried. But I still don’t know what Hillary was thinking hiring Lena Dunham as her Social Media Community Manager. Only Lena Dunham could make Hillary less likeable and relatable in one blubbery swoop.”

Michael Kornbluth