Jokes Not Getting Me On Kimmel

Married couples are divorcing in droves over Trump. I wouldn’t mind making my sex life above average again. Put it in Indiana MILF, I’m ready to play, play.

Mention his name again and you’re sleeping outside. Then, six more years of purgatory starts right now.
Queens is so hot, no it’s not. Queens, compared to Manhattan and Brooklyn is the sloppy third Kardashian sister. You know the extra greasy one, that’s easy to pound at three in the morning like a Lamb Gyro in Astoria.

My prayer for Montreal. When President Trump became president, I prayed for them to build a wall around the strip clubs in Montreal, so Lena Dunham wouldn’t scare away all the clientele.

My News Years Eve wish this past year. Ball drops. I say, “How about you go down on me now? Wife says. “But I blew you this last week.” I reply. “Just pretend Obama ordered you to leak it.”

Trump has ties to Russia. Duh, most mail order bride owners do.
Has the Rocky Statue been taken down yet? Because it promotes white supremacy. Knowing Rocky whips Clubber Lang’s ass in Rocky 3?
Michelle Obama isn’t running for President for 2020. What would be her campaign slogan anyway, Obama’s 5 O Clock shadow part two?
This is an impersonation of my new Trump voiced GPS system. Exit left for Mohegan Sun, Elizbeth Warren’s home away from home.
If you want to talk about accomplishments, Obama did rebrand ISIS to ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times.
It took Hillary six times to get her Metro Subway card to work. By the sixth swipe, Hillary blurts under her breath, “Super predators, I mean black people are watching, you can do it.”
Can’t believe my mom asked me if my six year old daughter at the time, watched the Woman’s March on Washington. I reply, “Yeah mom in a burka, to see she’s got nothing to bitch about. Also, mom my daughter is learning how to read now. So the last I need in my life is her trying to make out of those signs at the Woman’s March on TV.” Daughter squints her eyes, trying to make out of those signs on TV and says, “Dada, what’s pa, pa, pussy power. Is that a new show on Amazon Prime?”

A cheerleader from the Baltimore Ravens got arrested for raping a fifteen-year-old boy. My tenth-grade teacher forced me to read the Raven poem by Edgar Allen Poe against my free will. And all she got for it was tenure and more poetry rejection letters from the New Yorker.

A new study reveals female dragon flies play dead to prevent sexual assault. Bill Cosby victims call this wishful thinking.

I love Trump’s over the top salesmanship and relentless optimism. If he was diagnosed with HIV today, he’d tweet the next morning. “Do I have HIV, yes? But my T-Cell count numbers have never been stronger.”

Michael Kornbluth

Resist This

Unknown touching fact about President Trump. When his friend Bob Kraft’s wife of 35 years died. He called him once every day for an entire year to see how he was doing. My wife refuses to get me off long time by even bookmarking my blog.
When Lebron didn’t make the Playoffs this year. Did his boy Obama shake off the talking shit about Trump curse sting, by tearing into his secret stash of Almond Joy’s in his man cave hidden inside a box of duct tape from Costco?
Whenever my baby acts fussy around mama, she claims he’s getting bored of her already. I always knew he was a quick learner unlike his learning-disabled daddy. By the time I was done with the SAT, my friends had declared their majors Sophomore year in college.
Did you know Muslims don’t believe in paying interest? Not even for a small business loan for a Sleepy’s Under the Stars, or else the Palestinians lose their UN sanction victimized status.
In England, they’re considering banning the teaching of the Holocaust because it offends the Muslim population who claimed it never happened. Ok, so Amir won’t be on the short list for internships at Amblin entertainment with any plan to be groomed as Stephen Spielberg’s next JJ Abrams in the making, despite the Quran being in dire need of a futuristic refresh.
An Illegal Alien got convicted of raping a dog to death, only to be released without notifying ICE agents in Sanctuary State, Oregon. Beavers are biters. I’d wouldn’t push your luck homes.

Courtney Love did acid at 4, was shipped off to Boarding School at 9 and blew Ted Nugent at 14. Thank God, I can’t afford boarding school for my daughter at 8. Don’t get me wrong, I think Courtney could’ve done worse than blowing Ted Nugent at 14. It’s not like she was going down on Woody Allen to get back at her adopted actress mother. Hole Live Through This is a rock masterpiece. She’s worth 150 million now. Courtney Love is Mia Farrow with better husband selection.

This is Roger Daltry yelling at fans for puffing weed at the last Who show at MSG.

We’re not Pink Floyd. Weed kills your ambition, remember, don’t get fooled again? That’s what Pete Townsend said when he clicked on the website Soap Suds Bottoms.com. We got it Pete. You we’re doing opposition research for a song about pedophile chat rooms, registered under moveonnothingtoseehereatpodesta.org, got it mate.
The End
By,
Michael Kornbluth

Like Mother Like Son

Me playing the role of trainer Mick for my son Art Show, AKA Feather Foot as Rocky 4 blasts in the garage as he does more sit ups on our ordained Rocky rug.

No pain Art Show, you’re pimping the American Flag bandanna big time. Let the music make your heart soar like a Bald Eagle not stressed about all his peeps being near extinct yet. 2 more, you’re going to be the prettiest bad boy soy boy in class. Every kid is going to want a piece of you, fronting to be real life tough guy, smart asses like Robert Dinero method actors in the making. Drop them on their ass for daring to fuck with you pretty boy face before they become high school loser drop-outs because they won’t want to show their mangled, mope maligned mugs after you’re done smacking their smirks on to the gym locker floor on top of their Iron Maiden Trapper Keepers. 2 more sit ups, make those dumb mooks run for the hills to their mommies for birthing such inferior, mush mouthed seed.

Me overruling my wife again.

Matilda can handle number sentences at school on a sprained ankle. It’s not like she’s ducking a fight using brass knuckles in a female remake of 3 Clock High because she’s so kettle bell dense strong, unlike the wobbles in the hyped female conjuring version of Super Bad. Because the world of comedy needs more, mild musings from the Female ID of Michael Cera. I’m sure the ska light, sexless sounding Sting promoting Rainforest meditative back beats from the latest and greatest Vampire Weekend in the film will sound more momentous and less existential strained than the Singles soundtrack no problem.

Michael Jordan torched the Jazz for 37 with the Flu in the NBA Finals with a 105-degree fever, making Karl Malone his bottom bleeding gimp. Begging to be infected with MJ’s killer attack, over the top Alpha Dog gene, versus his absence of an automatic clutch gear, no amount of fancy stick rigs or 100-pound curl raises can conceal.

Defending my Jewishness over this past Christmas.

Bloated, model of a blah brained, bearded wannabe hipster minus artistic talent blurts out “My sister is more Jewish than you are.” I reply. Have you even graduated college yet, 8 years later? You’re like Van Wilder minus the rich dad. Also, last time I checked you we’re too fat to pass the physical for the Police Academy. But I’m sure your heart was really into, Serpico. Also, I had a Bar Mitzvah and sang my Haftarah portion in Hebrew. Last time I checked, you air guitared your Ukrainian harp Bandura at Church because you’re a lazy, good for nothing blob of hobbit mole allergic to nuts and all forms of ball exertion. Who had to have your parents threaten to not pay 5 grand for your wedding if the ban of their 3 grand children who they never see was lifted. But Jesus loves the totality of you. But hey your religion allows your mom to be forgiven for being a colossal cunt and yell at my kids for jumping on the spare mattress in your old shit sty room at the foot of our old couch because it isn’t the designated, cramped play area. The room downstairs next to the kitchen, with your air guitar Bandura on the couch, as a mere decorative ornament like when you were last spotted in shame with it in Church back in the day is.

Your sister is more Jewish than me? Then, why hasn’t your dad ever used some of his SAP consultant money to pay for her nose job then? That’s right, he’s still sporting the same Tommy Bahamas from the eighties. When Trump was rebuilding Wollman Rink in Central Park for free and giving the profits to Aids men victim groups whereas your father was giggling to Monty Python sketches after work. Which did wonders for his imagination, knowing what a dead weight conversationalist you’ve become, like mother like son. Also, my kids love Futurama, but think your Bender tattoo is ridiculously stupid. A fake tattoo would’ve been a fun for a bit, right kids? If you got a fake Bender tattoo kids, worst case scenario then, you can’t be buried in a fake Jewish cemetery.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

Dusted Off Gems

God didn’t give me 3 kids to have a panic attack over it.

Me stalling for the Tooth Fairy
Why didn’t the Tooth Fairy arrive yet daddy? The Rock slept in for a change.

F weird, weak Howard.
Howard Stern says. “Living under the Trump presidency feels like an alternative reality.” Howard always strained to sound forced deep. His best words of wisdom in his debut book Private Parts, was don’t go to prison. Hillary passed on the book Private Parts, in favor of Eat, Drink, Wheeze.

What’s grandparent bad manners?
Baba blaming the broken AC in her car for not visiting her 2 grandchildren all summer, knowing her husband would be giddy at the prospect of her sweating off a couple of tons in the process.

What’s grandparent bad manners?
Baba adopting a rescue dog 3 grandchildren later, without consulting the feelings of her grandchildren becoming Pluto far center of her universe now.

What’s grandparent bad manners?
Grandma defending Grandpa’s decision to huff multiple cigarettes before making your newborn daughter smell like Don Draper’s corpse draped in Aramis.

Why do my kids love me back?
I show interest in their stories. Plus, I don’t space out every 2 seconds like super stoned Dory.

Why do my kids love me back?
Because when I say I love you. It doesn’t sound guilt forced hoarse like my mother on the phone with me, trying to prevent a permanent text divorce.

Me explaining DNA to my daughter.
What’s DNA daddy?
Remember Baba rooting for Germany in the World Cup? Yelling at the kitchen TV, murder them.
Daughter says. Yeah but I thought Baba’s mother was only put in Work Camps in the Ukraine where they didn’t gas you to death. I reply. Yeah, her DNA is more ungrateful, unhuggable cuntish she’d give herself credit for.

Dumping on English soccer again.
Wife says. Manchester City won the FA Cup. It’s like the Super Bowl for the English Premier League

I say. And your dad can whip out his cherished Irish whiskey again like when the Eagles won the Super Bowl despite the birth of his super loving 3 grandchildren never warranting such a celebratory action announcement on Facebook. Grandparent bad manners age worse than Hunter Biden on Chinese paid for coke.

Getting feisty with my wife because she described my all-star molded, creation Matilda as “innately perfect.” Yeah, I agree. It sucks to learn Matt is in family therapy with his daughter and ex-wife. If we got divorced, I think Matilda would be OK with it. Don’t you see the way she lights up when she asks about my ex-girlfriends? I’m just saying, we fight plenty and she wants me to be happier and more fulfilled even if she had to see me less. I think it’s a sacrifice our daughter would be willing to make. It’s a sign of true love. Then, I wake up with my re-circumcised schlong down my throat.

The End
By,
Michael Kornbluth

Greatest Moderate Muslim Of All Time

Ali never declared Islam the greatest religion of all time. Insisting you better recognize or else Infidel. That means, chosen people my ass Cosell.

 
Ali didn’t devalue 911 by stating “some people did something”. He’d say those terrorists don’t represent me. What they did wasn’t courageous unlike Bill Maher barebacking with She He’s.
Ali appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated 38 times. And not once did you feel SI was trying to fulfill a Muslim forced diversity quota out of fear of offending old school militant Malcolm X before his pilgrimage to Mecca.
Ali never insisted the Jews in Hollywood gave their six million dead more specialty treatment coverage because they run the media, complain too much and never got over their interest charging, predatory lending business bleed into the red on such a big, generational wealth stealing scale.

 

Ali never described the Holocaust as giving him a “calm feeling.” Knowing, Norman Mailer’s mom would be spared. So, her son could report on Ali’s Thrilla In Manila and give Coltrane jerking off Jazz critics a means to afford to their rent-controlled apartments in the East Village by founding the Village Voice in the process.

 
Ali clowned around with the Beatles. And never accused them of exploiting the teenager in love humanity of Chuck Berry’s catalog of hits for all it was worth to their all about the Benjamin’s infidel, flaming gay manager Brian Epstein either.

 
Ali famously declared, “no Vietcong, have tried to kill me.” Never coming to close to today’s accusations of Trump bad for never stopping our military from knocking off Somalian Jihadists with drones in the name of poetic justice.
Ali never accused Israel of ethnic cleansing before Palestinian suicide bombers left Netanyahu no choice but to build the chosen people who elected him, the wall.

 

 

If alive today, both Ali and Mandela would try to stop the widespread murder of white South African Farmers, ensuring the story got more shouts outs than from the Michael Savage podcast and on Tucker Carlson the following evening.

 

 

Ali never accused Dick Cavett of trying to silence powerful Muslim voices by putting his audience to sleep when it was the host’s turn to speak.

 

 

Ali remained friendly with Sammy Davis Junior after he converted to Judaism like shorter, dapper, less nerdy stiff version of Rod Carew.
Ali kept fighting past his prime to give his purse money for charities not including the UN death tunnel digging fund for Hamas.
Ali never called Hitler a “great man” or refer to Sammy Davis Junior as part Candy Man part Cock Roach.

 

Ali never pushed for boycotts of Israel. But I’m sure he’d question Obama Nuke gifting Iran. In an alleged effort to stimulate their economy and make it less dependent on the sale of hair removal products for Khloe Kardashian.

 

Ali celebrated his comeback victory against Joe Frazier over an Ice Cream bar, slamming Root Beer Floats, with Malcolm X. Without threatening to impeach the motherfucker boxing commission for stealing his boxing license in his prime what’s my name, you better recognize years.

The End
By,

Michael Kornbluth

Shakespeare Hanging Perverts

6 million hits later, I learn 420 is Hitler’s birthday. I haven’t felt this betrayed since Stallone snuck Mel Gibson into Expendables 3.

My daughter winning Miss USA. Don’t stop clapping but Trump keep your hands up high where I can see them.

Kathy Griffin looks like Clifford and Trans Chucky had a baby.

In the past 2 years 48 people have been terminated at Google for sexual harassment. But software engineers are too busy banging out code to hit on girls. A typical Perl script command isn’t massage my Carpal Tunnel ho.

There’s no such thing as Kevin Hart haters, just short on laugh spectators.

Out of work music executive defending his stoner ways in Divorce Court.
My wife hits me judge. On weed, it slows down her punches and it’s easier to defend myself like Neo in the Matrix.

What’s the best thing about being a stay at home dad? Drinking alone is no longer an issue.

Why is it hard for stay at home dads to score job interviews? Corporate America isn’t into hooking up with bearded ladies.

This is a Latino Republican on Real Time with Bill Maher.
The Wall is just symbolic Bill. Maher says. Don’t Latino Republicans skip their Santana pothead phase in college all together?

Obama and Farrakhan look real tight in the pic hidden from the American public the 8 years he was President. You’d think Farrakhan sent him personal emails about this rising Muslim star named Omar to YourMamaObama@gmail.com

Astrology off between my kids.
I say. Matilda shares the same sign with George Washington and Einstein.
Arthur’s got Martin Luther King and Ben Franklin. Daughter says, I don’t like this Astrology off anymore. I reply. Pisces are very competitive.

I fell asleep to Dark Matter narrated by Neil De Grasse Tyson at the Hayden Planetarium. What, Neil De Grasse Tyson is only interesting in 3 minute spurts despite IMAX renderings of the Universe in his favor.

Claiming Lebron would beat MJ in one on one because he moves better laterally is a weak argument. Granted, Lebron has plenty of experience getting out of the way for others to clinch victory in NBA Finals games of 5 on 5.

Stay At Home Dads can be trophy wives to, even if their past acting work was limited to extra work on Desperate Housewives and The OC. Especially knowing, other stay at home dads in suburban New York aren’t linked to Hugh Grant on Stilts.

Stay At Home Comedian screening nannies because he’s got a book promotion tour on the horizon.

Can you teach my daughter to paint like Frida yet fight the urge to stroke her hair ever so gently?

Shakespeare said hanging perverts has prevented many a bad marriage. I guess decoupling hadn’t caught on yet.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

Book Authors Are Fire Proof

Whenever I’m out with my 3 kids, I’ll always hear. You’ve got your hands full. I reply. If my wife allowed an open marriage with Katy Perry, assuming I became a bestselling author, I’d have my hands full, day and night, night and day.

 
Trying to start your staffing business from ground zero and provide for your wife and 2 kids as an IT Headhunter while sucking up your ego because you finally got your TV writing break at VH1 Classic 2 months prior is a handful. Especially, when you just traded in your Gene Simmons zip drive used to save your scripts, consisting of Heavy Metal video intros for Chris Jericho to use on America’s Hard 100 for new suits from Men’s Warehouse. Which you can’t afford and have to ask your parents money for. Thereby further deepening your parent’s resentment at your prolonged, degenerate dependence on their forced upon financial generosity at 39 with 2 kids under your belt now. Paying them the maintenance rental costs on a one-bedroom apartment. Which used to belong to your grandmother before your parents shipped her off to a home in Arizona, dying in her sleep with nothing but a peaceful gaze according to my father.

Excuse me for questioning the sincerity of my father’s pronouncement. Knowing his self-serving, controlling, bullying approach to my wedding by letting my grandma off the hook by not insisting she attend her own grandson’s wedding. She wasn’t Stephen Hawkins people. Was she bi-polar? Yes, did my dad insist she stop taking her medication because her manic highs became too annoying and inconvenient for him to handle? Yes, so knowing my dad played a domineering, ownership role of his own mother’s emotional well-being despite never earning a PHD in Pharmacology, selling Acid in college doesn’t count. Only to emerge from the experience with your brain intact because you were “smarter” than all the lesser gentile, mush brain counterparts in your fraternity, allegedly.

So, what was my dad’s excuse for not demanding my own grandmother hop in the car for a 2 hour ride up to Woodstock to see her eldest grandson get married? According to my dad, “she would’ve been a handful and he’d have to look after her.” But according to my younger brother, my father isn’t a narcissist despite his best excuse for not insisting my grandma attend my wedding was because her assumed, mope maligned existence would’ve been a perpetual drag on his own good time. Assuming he’d be hanging out with her at the wedding. Reminiscing about how nice it would be if Murray, his dead father, and her 1st husband could be there also because he always loved my friend Newton. Who was the Baptized Minister that got us married in the 1st place.

I became close with my dad’s friend from college Newtown Finn when I attended Lake Forest College for my freshman and sophomore year on the North Shore of Illinois. I’d meet him for an occasional beer to discuss a philosophy paper I was working on. For my paper on how the Grateful Dead parking lot scene encapsulated a self-sustaining, yet community driven, capitalist economy at its finest, minus the taxes on what you made by being able to sell grill cheese sandwiches or from glass bowls of your own making. Allowing Dead Head lovers to live out their hippie working dream to the fullest. By making money from their own creations. And using those profits to follow the Dead-on tour. Make new friends, create colorful memories and become liberated from the cubicle chained existence their parents were slaves to because such an option didn’t exis prior. I don’t recall reading about any teens in the 1950’s selling their mom’s Betty Crocker cookies outside of Giant Stadiuum. So, they could follow Jan and Dean on the road in my history of rock and roll class at Ithaca College. Otherwise known as Cornell’s retarded next door neighbor.

Not once did I think my dad took my feelings under consideration by not insisting my grandma attend my wedding. Did her grandmotherly sense tell her I was out of work again? In the end, did my Grandma blow off my wedding because she thought it was pathetic for a suburban beneficiary of white privilege to be fired more than a Palestinian Sling Shot at 34 years old on God green’s earth?

In retrospect, my dad letting my grandma off the hook infuriated me more than my grandma not attending my wedding because he possessed the power to make Grandma do the right thing. But instead chose the path of zero hassle for himself. Thinking. let’s make this wedding all about my wife and myself. Wearing creamy white at 1st born’s wedding. Insisting we walk him down the aisle, just because we’re cutting them a big, fat wedding check.

I should’ve burned that wedding check on the spot. It would’ve saved plenty of aggravation for all of us in the end. But I didn’t get married to receive a big check from my parents. I got married because I fell in love with a pretty, sweet girl from Australia who became the best friend I never had. Although chances are, I don’t pop the question ever, if my mother doesn’t insist on letting her give me money to buy my live-in girlfriend in Park Slope, Brooklyn at the time, an engagement ring, a pink Safire engagement ring to be exact.

I wanted my own earned staffing commission money from my stint at Adam Jacob Associates to pay for that ring. Never happened that way. The only time I made a commission check big enough for an engagement ring was with the IT staffing firm I worked for next from a big rip, I did with JP Morgan Hedge Fund Services. I asked my mom for the org chart for JP Morgan Hedge Fund Services. Cold called the VP of Technology. Scheduled a face to face meeting in Greenwich, CT. Recruited a .NET Architect off an ad I wrote and posted on Monster.com. Placed him at 135K salary, ripped a 7000-dollar commission check after taxes. And used that money on top of my unemployment checks because I got fired from that recruitment job also to throw myself into my writing. Banged out my 30 Rock spec, script, The Kings of Comedy. Paced 3 in a national TV writing contest called the Spec Scriptacular and no longer felt like a poser fake news funny jerkoff performing standup comedy at open mikes throughout stroller mom country in Park Slope no more.

But understand, this was 12 years ago, which feels like light years ago 3 kids later. Think about it. Back then, Lena Dunham had much skinnier arms and wasn’t nearly as full of herself. I don’t know about you. But after Trump won. Lena Dunham said she’d move to Canada. So, I prayed for them to build a wall around the strip clubs in Montreal, so Lena Dunham wouldn’t scare away all the clientele. Also, most people don’t know this. But Lena Dunham was Hillary Hammer Time Cankle’s Social Media Community Manager for her 2-time loser campaign for the presidency of the United States of America. Only Lena Dunham could make Hillary less likeable and relatable in one blubbery swoop, but I digress.
To make matters worse at my wedding, my dad insisted on telling all my friends how much my wedding shoes cost, treating me like his faggy, bridezilla underling. Which wasn’t a fair representation of what makes me flaming gay such as my propensity to jerk off my old high school bud to Taste of Amber and Scandal and the Mansion because a friend at camp introduced him to the harmless practice, of mutual tickle jerks under the covers, together. Still, the obvious low point at my wedding was when my Dad told our wedding DJ to turn down the Star Fucking Spangled Banner by Jimi Hendrix from Woodstock. The very Woodstock he attended and bragged about non-stop about attending. Although, he never saw Jimi perform because apparently at that the time, all the hippies starving to death, out of cats to eat with tushy rash rott. In addition to images of unreported, drug induced rapes and  toddlers tripping on acid became too much bear. Jimi Hendrix had actually unleashed his guitar, carpet bombing, anti-war anthem piece of electric guitar mastery at the Hollywood Bowl before his scene stealing performance at Woodstock post Joe Cocker having performed a stroke in slow motion for Little Help from My Friends. What was my father’s excuse for telling our wedding DJ to turn off Jimi? Because Jimi’s aerial guitar Vietcong bomb drop renditions were too intense for all of his non-serving Jewish friends in attendance to bear. It would be one thing if his Jewish friend Sil from the Bronx served with Ron Kovac or was held captive like McCain and was trigged to jump behind the wet bar for cover. I took personal offense to this asshole, controlling gesture on my dad’s behalf because I controlled the wedding playlist. This was my creation, not his. In case you’re wondering, we closed out the wedding, with Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York and closed with Jay Z’s Empire State of Mind, which just hit. Sorry, Frank, we chose to close our wedding with a more resounding, modern day feeling bang.
If I could do it all over again for my wedding, I would’ve have posted an ad on Craig’s List for a substitute Wise Black Grandma to replace my absentee whiney, Jewish Grandma. The Craig’s List ad would read, “Wise Black Grandma needed for wedding in Woodstock, NY, full expenses paid, Tyler Perry impersonators are welcome. Just understand, we only have 1 black friend attending, so you must be comfortable performing in front of primarily white audiences only.”
So, what does my dad being a controlling, arrogant, baby boomer dick have to do with how book authors are fire proof? They’re related because I tried really hard to make a living in sales similar to my father and it never materialized for me. My dad did very well but his career in packaging sales didn’t take off until his early forties. In fact, my mom saw an ad in the paper for a sales manager job which he applied for and got. In actuality, my dad lied about so-called management experience to get the job and the gamble payed huge dividends for himself in the end. Now, his wife, my mother who worked at JP Morgan Chase as a Loan Officer. Who always made more money than him, was no longer in an exalted, leveraged position to belittle or talk down to her lifetime partner in love like her faggy, you only exist because of me underling any longer.

Knowing my father took a gamble to achieve what success he did as a VP of Sales. Who turned a fledging packaging company into the 90 million in sales machine under his direction. It’s not a complete shock to know my Dad isn’t 100% against me writing a book about working from home and falling for Fatherhood as a stay at home, aspirational do it all dad comedian book author. My dad never articulated what his vision was if he decided to launch his own business. Still, his default response for not following through for whatever vision he possessed was because it was too risky and he had my brother and I to support. On top of having to earn enough money to pay for $20,000 a year property taxes in Westchester Country, only 30 minutes from Manhattan by Metro North I get it.

But I know what I want more than ever before. I can articulate my dream for myself which serves my own personal ambition and the betterment of my wife and 3 children. And that’s not to just become a published, parenting book author. Fuck that. My dream is to write the funniest, most readable, most moving, Jewish suburban tale of modern-day fatherhood ever made. I’ll be a big fish in my own pond. Who’s my competition, Philp Roth’s son if he has one? Did Saul Bellow bang out any promising upstart, literary off spring capable of producing laugh yankers on the page and off that I don’t know about? The thing is I tried to make it as an IT headhunter yet never became the Rain Maker like my father did. Me, I was much more a trickler.

Still, headhunting made me the man I am today. There’s no way I could endure the heartbreaking isolation and rejection from old school fake news friends and my own parents as a stay at home comedian author/ Podcast Host/Dad Friendly Entertainment Blogger. Without the congealed inner toughness such a thankless, advance attack forward on mentality the new business development form of IT staffing engenders within in you.

I love all my ex-headhunter brethren because they pushed me to become a better version of me. They respected my fearlessness, my developing comedic writing inventiveness. In short, they couldn’t knock my hustle. My old boss Larry, god bless him, would let me take breaks from cold calling IT directors at UBS and beyond to sample new material on my old school band of recruiter brothers in the afternoon to help break up the day. Even my old boss Dan at Robert Half allowed the same after our morning meetings, yet Robert Half is public traded company so that new morning routine got shut down real fast and it wasn’t because I was producing dead air either.

Nobel Prize for Literature winner George Bernard Shaw said, “hell is to drift, and heaven is to steer.” The key for me is picking my 1st big race to win and not being an all over the place Jew for once in my life. I got into standup because an alum from Ithaca told me it would make me a better writer. But I only got into the dream of writing TV scripts for TV after my ex-girlfriend in LA pushed me to start writing specs for Curb which made me fall in the love with the idea of a creative, fun filled alternative to make a living that didn’t require my compulsory need to use my day of atonement for Yom Kippur in Los Angeles. My 1st year as an IT Headhunter, paying my own way in the word, only to focus on reading the Long Beach Business Journal for new company info to sollcit business from before LinkedIn and smart phones emerged. Eliminating the need to stay at work past 7 every night to get more numbers from 411 to cold call the next morning all over again.

Eventually, I wrote for TV, not the way I intended. I thought I’d be writing Family Guy scripts. Instead, I was writing music video intro reads for Iron Maiden for the host of Americas Hard 100, WWE great, Chris Jericho. I’ll take it. My old producer boss Jay Moran introducing me as the Head Writer for the America’s Hard special he was in charge of producing 100 at Viacom corporate in Manhattan, “my city” as Walt Whitman said back in the day was a heavy metal high moment, I’ll cherish forever. But the stakes are way higher now. Now, I have 3 kids compared to only Singing Rose Matilda. And it’d true, “pressure does create diamonds.” Which explains the comedy tear I’ve been on now since getting fired from Robert Half 3 years ago. Every retweet or blog like has been a win, knowing my aim as has always been laugh generation. But now my goals have expanded past mere laugh generation but into more expressive, beauty terrain. Describing how your baby boy’s hand clench against yours makes up for almost 99% of the poor, poor, pitiful pain in your heart. By describing the shrieks of joy my 20-month-old son makes when I give him playful, falling putzy apple tree head butts into his midsection or roll him into a pink Cubano with our overpriced towels from our wedding I get to reconnect with what I want more of in this new big dream of mine. And that’s to be the Golly Blue Giant dream maker at home as a stay at home dad comedian shooting star author on the rise.

Bought my kids a telescope from Goodwill for 28 bucks for the 1st night of Chanukah. And just learned about Blue Giant stars. Basically, they shine brightest because they’re condensed with the most loaded, compact material. And that’s what I’ve poured into my book that you’re reading right now, Stay at Home Comedian. I wouldn’t have been capable of producing this book 4 years ago because I didn’t know what I wanted out of life outside of sticking with my goal of writing for TV and proving to myself I could do it.

As a bestselling author, I become the functional Dead Head I’ve always wanted to become. Making money off my own creations, Assuming ownership of my own ideas.  Profiting off my own self-driven hustle, not out of fear from getting fired for some job I’m just doing to provide breathing room to write jokes to do on stage on the side. That chapter in my life is finished.

God didn’t give me 3 kids to have a panic attack over it. As a book author, I’m fire proof because I’ll never act like an entitled dick the majority of the time. As a book author, I’m fire proof because I don’t have the luxury or time to be an aspirational, functional pothead on the side with 3 kids to co-raise and house to co-manage either. As a book author, I’m fire proof because any quotas I set for myself, I’ll exceed because the only thing limiting me from writing my way out of poverty into literary glory is mere time to sit my ass on the chair. I also bought from that 7000-dollar commission check to bang out more free flowing prose on my pleasure machine.

The meaning of Hanukah is dedication. And no miracle of light can happen without the combination of dedication and unwavering faith in your hard work materializing by the grace of divine powered blessing when the all mighty makes the timing right. I just learned about getting 19 blogged chapters of the Stay at Home Comedian republished on the Good Men Project. It’s my time to shine.

Book Author are fire proof unless, my book Stay at Home Comedian doesn’t sell and my wife kicks me out of the house for good. But I’m in the driver seat of a life of my choosing now. I’m writing a bestselling book, Stay at Home Comedian and already have my next 2 follow up books planned. I’m in it to win it as a bestselling parenting book author and face of the new remote good men, dad, remote work revolution. Because at home on the page, I rule my destiny.

My old sales boss at a recruitment agency in Manhattan Beach, said to me. “Michael, you’re very eclectic. I see you as a thoroughbred but in order to become a winner, you have to pick your race. I finally have Terry. Thanks for the words of wisdom and sorry about acting like an entitled, arrogant, NY dick  Doing 0.0 to reverse the perception of my people as a whole, meaning New Yorkers in general. Your killer farmer’s son work ethic rubbed on me Terry. Not that I was slacker working for you. Still, you always said. “What do you want your tombstone to say when your time on this earth is complete?”

Finally got the answer Terry. Michael Kornbluth, Author, although knock kneed putz turned Pulitzer prize winner has a nice ring to it also. I know Terry. Focus on winning one race at a time. But I must dream bigger like my daughter says. Most can write a best seller, but it’s the ones who never gave up. Whose will to win reigned supreme such as Charles Bukowski, Rodney Dangerfield and Secretariat, the horse, who became living legends in their time. Just because my ego got tripped up at the starting gate, from being a prematurly branded, learning-disabled slow poke brain student in the 5th grade. Doesn’t mean I can’t launch a comeback around the bend, kick up dirt into my dream detractor faces now behind me with enraged delight and fly past that finish line as a successful, bestselling book author winner. Then, getting my wife a new set of boobs for my birthday will be the most selfless gift ever. Because if my wife forgets to buy me something special after my book Stay At Home Comedian becomes a best seller. She’ll be off the hook. And Katy Perry will have to wait.
By,

Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

Twitter Shadow Banned Test

Whenever I’m out with my 3 kids, I’ll always hear. You’ve got your hands full. I reply. If my wife allowed an open marriage with Katy Perry, assuming I became a best selling author, I’d have my hands full, day and night, night and day.

INT. OFFICE
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Book Authors are fire proof. Unless your book doesn’t sell and mommy throws you out of the house for good.
Son
Your office is on fire.

Stay At Home Comedian Dad laughs long time.

Getting my wife a new set of boobs for my birthday is a selfless gift. Because if my wife forgets to buy me something special after my book Stay At Home Comedian becomes a best seller. She’ll be off the hook.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth

Cascading Jokes On My Day of Rest

Vegetarians and Pescatarians don’t get enough protein counter punches for my kids to strike back with. Omnivores like yourself are more likely to get cancer. Increased hypertension knowing how much your parents mishandled your health isn’t helping you either.

In the brewery bathroom with 2 of my 3 kids. My 1st born is taking a number 2. Outside I hear. Who locks a public bathroom door? I reply. I got 2 kids in here. Take your Michael Jackson appreciation party someplace else

My daughter’s hilarious Mermaid deformity theory.
Mermaids are deformed and not fully developed women from head to toe because they ate too much seafood when they were pregnant. F you Louie CK. You wish your daughter was this hilarious. You to Rock.

Int. Used Book Shop
4 Year Old Son
Daddy, can you grab that book for me?
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
For Mr. Fantastic it wouldn’t be a stretch.
The puns just keeping pouring out of me today kiddo.

Texting funny to my friend.
Very proud of your sobriety bud. Natalia is taking the kids to the Bronx Zoo soon. I’ll be free to talk after I jerk off to mounting Pam Grier in Zebra print lingerie as an oversexed Zoologist.

What else are you banned from Daddy?
Besides the salon for my Hillary jokes. I got banned from the Comedy Cellar for going long because I was off to a strong start for once and invited my own caravan to attend.

I’m not 100% gay. I just never wanted to want to bang my wife too much. 3 kids later or not. What are my options now? Bang a German hooker the 1 time I had my wife agree to before we got married? Wear 5 condoms to extend my time in my occupied territory indefinitely?

INT. Coffee Shop
Older Woman
Your baby is the Gerber Baby come to life.
Stay At Home Comedian
Thank God I didn’t knock up Kathy Griffin instead.
Lately she looks like Clifford and Trans Chucky had a baby.

Int. Record Shop
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Simply Red. Just the shot of testosterone I was looking for.
You don’t find that funny, UB40? At least the owner did to confirm my raging inferno inside.

Give my baby boy a pretend jump back breaker in the elevator. Wife freaks out in disgust despite my baby boy’s shrieks of pure, flowing joy. You’re going to make the elevator jam. Wife shrieks knowing her precious boy is never this loosey goosey in her arms.

INT. Brewery
Fish and Chips arrive as 1 plop of fried fish and fries on my plate.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
My fried fish looks like a Knish.
Waiter laughs.
Now, my Limey Aussie wife is going to tell me I’m being too difficult.

INT. Bagel Store
Old Recruiter Bud
I got into sales leadership.
Now, I mange a sales team for a literacy technology company.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
Kids use your platform to start off reading USA today in class instead of Sheraton Inn lobbies.

I hate Pizza tossers who tense around my beautiful offspring in their mediocre NY pizzerias. Your vodka sauce looks like brownish shit. Your marinara sauce is serviceable at best. And your Pinocchio nose looks like it got caught in a wood chipper Luigi.

Loved Joan Rivers on Fashion Police. Her story about Lenny Bruce saying they’re wrong, keeping her going after bombing for 2 weeks in a row was very inspiring for me. Still, her greatest hits on Spotify make Rodney feel the like classier, smarter, funnier act, sorry.
Madison Avenue is dead.
Some moron erects a billboard with KP and Durant saying “Make The Knicks Great Again.” Are you kidding me? Durant hates pushy, Jewy NY reporters more than 25 pound Kettle bell curls. Use your head morons.

Got the No Respect Rodney record on Vinyl today. Rodney was 43 when it came out. Which explains why my 3 kids to his 2 at 42 for me has produced such pressure packed gemry. Knowing I never had a lucrative paint sales career to fall back on in the 1st place.

By,

Michael Korbluth

Jokes I Won’t Do in Manhattan Tonight

It’s time to lay off the Amazon Cloud. When your 4 year old son threatens to stab you in the heart 1st thing in the morning because you deny him instant gratification from his Futurama TV.

Astrology Off
Matilda, you got Einstein, George Washington. Arthur has Dr. King, Ben Franklin. Dammit Arthur is beating me already. Baby Samuel has Alice Cooper, Lincoln. I don’t like this game anymore daddy. Pisces are very competitive.

Int. Whole Foods
Barista
Is your baby always so chill?
Stay at Home Comedian Dad
He isn’t with her. Plus, his mommy isn’t an American Pyscho.
She’s originally from Australia. So that helps.

My 7 Year Old Daughter’s glimmers of Atheism.
Your baby brother’s new nickname is number 1 Capricorn. Plus, he stems from the 1st man on earth Adam. Daughter interjects. We all come from Apes Dada. Stop acting so evolved already Female Flash.

He’s So Happy Retort
My baby is already familiar with Bob Marley’s earlier work during his prime crooning pre-Concrete Jungle, chase those Crazy Baldheads out of town phase.

Unlikely post on LinkedIn.
I think God Gives Kids to Only The Lonely is obviously funnier and far less depressing than God Gives Kids to the Lonely. Agreed fake news funny commentators?

Int. Whole Foods
Stay At Home Comedian
Dad
Nice pin, All Good. I’m assuming Jeff Bezos gave you his pin number for his JP Morgan account. Assuming, you emote online about the muffled shrieks of despair on The Hand Maid’s Tale.

The baby is so happy. Old men hate him for it because my precious offspring highlights how loud and annoying their kids were growing up. Knowing their wives failed at making their kids any chiller on even a part time basis.

Daddy propping up Columbus.
Daddy, Columbus gave the Indians diseases. Pretty sure Charlie Sheen planted his seeds of destruction and gave his fair share away at the last AVN convention in Mohegan Sun. Nobody’s taken down Major League off Cinemax yet.

Michael Savage interviewing Ziggy Marley.
Studies prove excessive weed use lowers your sperm count.
Ziggy replies. My father had 12 kids. Fake news man.

Michelle Obama is class personified no doubt. As the ex 1st lady has she ever gone on record stating her 2 girls are composed, bright, celestial beams of light because she held them to higher social standards than ANTIFA? Just curious.

Bloomberg could’ve run against Trump the way Bernie did. So much for 2017 being the year for Atheist Jews.

Int. Pre-K
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
I got Arthur’s mom to take all 3 kids to Delaware for a long weekend. So I can get my book proposal out already. And not be a bitchy, dependent, underling the rest of my life.

Int. Tavern
Older Woman
Your son is gorgeous. Your wife must be fetching in her own right.
Stay At Home Comedian Dad
But her arm fat. Which my other 5 year old son points out at the dinner table. Weighs heavily on her overall bangability index score.

Michael Savage on Kayne
I’m sick to my stomach. This low life rapper debased the same desk I sat across from the President. Great work Savage. You’ve straddled the Imus, nappy headed you know what line out of pure ego driven jealously alone.

Memo to Dr. Savage
Your huffy, gruff, old man get off my oval office assessment of Kayne West makes me want to smoke weed again so I never end up sounding like you. Once, I’m done reading your book Stop Mass Hysteria. You’re so off the list.

Robert E Lee quote: “Slavery as an institution is a moral and political evil in any country.” But have fun with your pretend race war twitter twats. Last time I checked, Trump beat Hillary not Obama. Obama just introduced her at Jay Z rallies.

Me being an intentional dick to my wife.
Oh, baby Arthur said Baba to grandma.
That’s pretty miraculous because he’s only seen her 6 times so far max, correct?
Sorry, she’s done goonish to help me out.

Is any defeat of Penn State really a surprise now? Karma is in constant prevent feel good mode for Penn State football fans left, sorry.

Astrology Off Part Part 2
Matilda, you got Einstein, George Washington. Arthur has Dr. King, Ben Franklin. Baby Samuel has Alice Cooper, Lincoln. Dada’s got Van Gogh, Eddie Murphy. Daughter kicks me as my son throws change at my face.

The End

By,

Michael Kornbluth