The Fanatical Circle Jerk Of Despair

A group of Jews got jumped at Sushi Fumi on La Cienega by oppressed Palestinian Nationalists. What did saggy tits Silverman have to say about the incident on Twitter to draw attention away from her tits sagging popularity for the past 20 years already?

Jews in the diaspora need allies. WE ARE NOT ISRAEL. And we sure as fuck aren’t the Israeli government.”

Did her weed brownies kick in before this brain fart or what? Is this the same Sarah Silverman who questioned President Trump’s maturity when she’s the one who still takes bingers in hoodies into her late forties? The same dronish, grating hack who never outgrew her tasteless jokes phase? She says, “We are not Israel”, in all caps. Watch out Lenny Bruce. You bet your cream cheese ass America isn’t Israel. Their citizens actually respect their commander and chief. Unlike Mr. Groper and your lover boy bust Obama who still houses Valerie Jarret, his live in Arabian horse whisperer. The same Valerie Jarret who drafted the time out nuke deal with Iran, including 200 billion to make their economy less reliant on the sale of hair removal products for the Kardashians. You’d jerk off Jihadi John, if it got you 6 million more followers, you blah breathed disgrace to your race. Way to completely wreck whatever good girl Jewish veneer you had left, you Jihadi jerker offer. Holla, thank you very much.

I call to schedule a hair appointment for my son. Kid Salon Owner says, “What’s your number Mr. Kornbluth. I tell her the number and say, “Just don’t give out the number to Hamas because my last name is a dead fucking giveaway. She laughs. I add, “Are you free later tonight to grab some Matzah Ball Soup. Salon Owner laughs long time again. Because I’m a hilarious sexy Heeb, unlike Saggy Tits Sarah, thank you very much.

Joe Biden praises ‘Fighter’ Rashida Tlaib, after she publicly confronts him on Israel. And says, “Drop a couple of pounds, and Talib Kweli fucker wannabe will be all up in your sandy brown snatch in no time.

AOC is preparing a resolution that would block the US sale of bombs to Israel to rearm their Iron Dome missile defense system that only takes out Palestinian Rockets. It has no offensive capabilities besides enraging every frothing Anti-Semite under the sun, especially the horse faced ones who compare immigration holding centers with centralized AC to Nazi death camps. Nazi Death camps at Auschwitz were used for more than lice removal babe. And what makes you think you’d survive Hitler’s wrath? You’d be rounded up with all the other pick pocketing gypsies by the Gestapo for thinking you fulfill the Aryan idea of being another aesthetically pleasing Libra like Pearl Necklace Harris, which throws the entire astrology chart into question. Holla, thank you very much.

MSNBC’s Hayes says, ‘Can we get an Iron Dome for Gaza, so children there ‘don’t have death rain down upon them?’ Ask Natalie Portman to fund it on the down low. She’s moving to Australia to avoid vicious hate speech attacks from afar anyhow. Holla, thank you very much.



Did you know 20 percent of Hamas rockets end up backfiring, landing in their own backyard, killing more of their own citizens to do even more ethnic cleansing on Israel’s behalf? Who knew Hamas was capable of exhibiting such retweet worthy compassion for human life, regardless of peaceful religious doctrine adherence or not? Holla, thank you very much.

But Hamas is willing to accept a ceasefire under 2 conditions. 1st dibs for all kids being taught critical race theory at the Disney satellite office for the Al Jazeera network. 2nd, Hamas gets the Big Guy’s 10 percent cut from cultural appropriation consulting fees paid to the Republic of China. Holla, thank you very much.

Has Kamala Harris visited the boarder yet? Or will she require a translator from Telemundo as all the American ICE agents barrage her with chants of, “Choke on a chocolate babka you stanky ass, punta bitch. Compare ICE to The Klan again, Halle Berry. And stop pretending your black. You didn’t even know if Tupac was dead or not. If you’re black, David Duke is the new racial sensitivity trainer for Disney Kids.



How is Israel an apartheid state again? Hamas is trying to wipe Israel off the map, not the other way around. Here’s a concept Palestine, stop throwing violent temper tantrums that put everyone in danger, and Israel will stop grounding your cry baby Hamas commanders into the ground, six feet under, ok.

How is Israel an apartheid state again? Are Palestians being denied interviews for IT recruiter jobs in Tel Aviv because IT recruiters get les respect than stay at home dads under permanent COVID house arrest already prior?

Are Palestinian woman even allowed to reveal their headshots on LinkedIn yet?  

And killing Hamas terrorists doesn’t make it easier for Hamas to recruit. All of a sudden, you expect Hamas to respect a non-compete with Al Qaeda?  Holla, thank you very much.

Last, Hamas aren’t good recruiters. They just target other lonely virgins on What’s App. Who wish their phones blew up.

While Addressing a graduating class of Coast Guard cadets Mr. Unity quoted mass murder Mao and said, “Women hold up half the world. While the other half walk out the knots on Bob Kraft’s back. My dear friend Al Gore doesn’t promote sex trafficking by frequenting massage parlors behind his wife’s back because he only requests older ones who weren’t yanked off the boat yesterday.” Holla, thank you very much.



Claiming BLM only hold signs is like Biden claiming he only sniffs Strawberry Shortcake.

BLM only holds signs. And Michelle Obama only holds her birthing people hole whenever she runs out of duct tape from Costco again. Joan lives Holla, thank you very much.

If BLM only holds signs, then who caused 2 billion dollars’ worth of damages during their peaceful protests against resisting arrest during this past summer of love? And why is eating al fresco no longer a viable option for a night of relaxation with your cracker ass white bitch wife ever again? Blame the signs for all time low NBA ratings, as they plummet into China sounds like a reason to love the NBA game again. Holla, thank you very much.





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

Hamas Hates Nuance

I text my mom photographed images from my 9 year old daughter’s report on the Holocaust called The Terror Of The Holocaust, which included a plethora of killer subtitle headers to, such as A Terrible Form Of Hate, Monster In Charge and Don’t Blame Us! And I add the killer one liner for the ages, “Don’t post the report on Facebook or else Hamas will accuse you of hate speech.” Holla, thank you very much.”

Biden is sending new aid to aid Palestinians since AOC served Andrew Yang’s balls to him in a Mai Tai on the rocks.

Fuck nuance. Palestinians elected terrorists in charge. The only difference between Palestine and America is that we didn’t elect a terrorist enabling scumbag to cut Palestine a blank check to finance non-stop terrorism against Israel as long as members of Hamas, the PLO and Hezbollah keep fucking. Holla, thank you very much.

Kids can’t be terrorists. What do you call ANTIFA? Elderly wannabe Punisher vigilantes in hoodies. Holla, thank you very much.


Also stop acting like you give a shit about Ramadan. Arab terrorists started something called the Yom Kippur war against Israel in 1973, on the most holy day on the Jewish calendar with the intent of wiping Israel off the map forever. The only difference now is you have social media to make worldwide antisemitism go transparently viral in real time you Hamas lover you.

Michael Kornbluth

The Pigheaded Jew

Whose more pigheaded stubborn the gentile or Jew? And I’ll take the Crusades 1 through 5000 Alex.   

But for some reasons Jews are always attacked for being the most stupid stubborn of the 2.  I thought we controlled all the world’s media messaging. I’m right, you’re wrong Christian Right country, sorry.

You want to talk about abominations? What arises more disgust, the Catholic Church never excommunicating Hitler or any Pope never excommunicating himself for granting pedophilia priests Nick At Night casting couch immunity.

You want to talk haughty.  What’s more ostentatious, Vatican’s party palace, Trump’s gold-plated hair dryer or Adam Sandler’s throwback Jam shorts on the set of Grown Ups 1 and 2?

You want to talk traitorous. Whose worse, fake news Christian Mike Pence for letting Democracy die on his watch or Obama Be Good who gifted Iran 150 billion to create overseas manufacturing jobs for Build A Bear to make their economy less reliant on the sale of face removal cream for the Kardashians? 

Growing up in a Kosher household, eating pork outside of it, wasn’t always a guilt free experience.  Even when I used to house my morning bacon, egg and cheese at the school cafeteria, I’d feel a tad dirty like the time I touched myself over my Everlast sweatpants in the nurse’s office as the perpetually busty Lauren Lighthall entered, with her nips fuller erect than my pubescent life shooter in the making at the time, knowing I still hadn’t gotten into the puberty party yet. So, playing with myself, resulted in me giving myself a reverse golden shower. I wouldn’t saying eating bacon was the equivalent to the dirty sensation of giving myself an accidental reverse golden shower at 15, up late after watching a steamy session of the Golden Girls, where Blanch tries out to be America’s next Jane Fonda, but the surge in icky guilt came close.

Jesus declaring all foods were clean had to piss off the pigheaded Old Testament God a bit, don’t you think? 400 years after God communicated the Torah in full to Moses on Mount Sinai, Jesus the frail carpenter admits out loud, “I need more protein in my diet and having to wait for a cow’s blood to be drained, is too much of a drain on my time already. Don’t worry fellow Hebrews. God doesn’t care if you break his Kosher law anymore. Accept me as the Son of God and your only means to get into Heaven. And you can eat pulled pork sandwiches in no go zone sections in Damascus, for all I care.” Holla, thank you very much.

Gentiles love their ham. It’s the chosen family tradition on Easter to prove they’re not pigheaded, stubborn stupid Jews, I get it.

Matthew was informed through a vison, declaring all pork Kosher in God’s eyes, assuming, you said grace, got baptized, ate symbolic parts of Jesus in Church, accepted him as your only possible messiah, thêreby gâuranting you a free pass into Heaven no matter what. Regardless, if you never repented or confessed to spreading intentional Jew killing blood libel about Jews being Christ killers because he was heckled to death by the devilish ancestry of Don Rickles.

While I’m on the subject of heckling, Gentiles don’t get enough credit for being the glaringly unoriginal hecklers. Jew Devil, Jew Pig that, although dangling bacon on poles in front of Jews in the streets of London when they had a Jewish Prime Minister in power for a bit, as a form of low budget, lowbrow Guerrilla Marketing used to promote the infinite goodness of the pork brain diet, wasn’t completely chop liver either.  Oh yeah, the other popular Jew heckle back in the day was Jews are descendants of pigs. Pigs are always being heralded as smarter than Ben and Jerry’s stoned out cows by woke white elitists.  So, I still don’t see how this insult is supposed to sting as intended. A Jewish doctor invented the polio vaccine and gave it away for free. Regardless of Hunter Biden getting paid 50 grand a week to jam nose candy up his nose, for what he thought was a sports energy company in the Ukraine, pushing borscht as the new Kombucha, makes him the greedier pig in this instance. Then again, Hunter never bothered to ask his baby mama strippers to get abortions, so he’s actually least likely to be excommunicated compared to pôps who off the record, insisted the hair on Jamal’s leg doesn’t make him a person in the annual profit and loss statement for the CEO of Planned Parenthood, sorry.

How does Farrakhan celebrate Holocaust Remembrance Day?  Spray Eli Wiesel’s Twitter page, with Termite Emoji’s from dusk till dawn.

How did Baby Face Omar acknowledge the death of Amy Winehouse’s death on Twitter? Did she call Amywinehouse a horn hiding devil spawn, who exploited the great Palestinian Song Book for all it was worth.

I can pick on my people to. For example, why do Jews think it’s kosher to eat non-kosher out of the home? Do these people, think, “Porking my wife with the lights on feels more off wrong to me, if I had to choose.”

What message was a gentile sending by throwing a pork chop against a Synagogue?  Costco is our Church of Later Day Saints to. So, we’ve got some extra loving grace to spare.

And why should I thank my in-laws for ordering pizza on my daughter’s birthday with pork on it in our Jewish home?  Should I feel blessed knowing my mother-in-law didn’t tag on the pizza box, Jesus Was Here?

Again, how are Jews more pigheaded stubborn than Gentiles exactly? It was the Spanish who pushed Jews to show a gesture of goodwill by eating pork in front of them during the Spanish Inquisition to qualify the seriousness of their conversion. Despite the converted Jew being picky pushy about it, asking, “Would it kill you to grab me some acorn fed Serrano Ham to nosh on instead?

Still, the smell of smoky succulent bacon in addition it’s divine blessed crispy crunch snap is hard to beat. Thank God, he invented vegetarians to resist Jesus’s instructions to give up pork skins for Lent in his honor centuries later. Who later invented Morning Star Veggie Bacon because they never got the delectable smells of brunch centric swine out of their system either.  The key to opening up all the full blossomed flavor potential of a Koshertarian BLT is to fry the veggie bacon in veggie oil at medium heat in your double handle pancake griddle.  Now, thanks to Jewish inventions such as greenhouse grown tomatoes, Koshertarian BLTs don’t have to limited to selling your spleen for some Heirloom tomatoes in July at your local Farmer’s Market during the summer only, having a blast, till major sticker shock ensues seconds later. Also, be at one with God’s graced earth, and use cut up pieces of leafy, sparkly shimmery sage from your garden to swirl into a bowl of mayo, salt, pepper and peeled garlic to make your bomb fresh, A plus, aioli mix.  

Personally, I like to use toasted country white bread for my kids Koshterian BLT’s because most wheat toast sucks. And New York Jews like are very picky, pigheaded Jewy about what bread we use or else we’d move to Scottsdale, Arizona and act like every day is Passover day, because the sunbelt was never chosen for endless, on-demand, baked bread delight.  Although one of my favorite memories is my 3 kids conducting a cherry tomato party in our garden with my smart phone flashlight last summer to use for our Koshertarian summer loving having a blast BLT special, which felt twice as blessed knowing how these balls of rounded, red cherry tomato perfection, derived from the earth amongst our home sweet, Koshertarian promoting home.

Michael Kornbluth

Funnier Than Laughing Gas

Finally getting my wisdom teeth taken out, which is a relief knowing I can’t blame their excavation on toothbrush neglect caused by premature passing out on the couch from excessive IPA intake, again and again. I’m exaggerating. I actually gave up drinking beer this summer because it was embarrassing spending so much time hung over, recycling, empty reminders of my lush, littered past, as entire Rocky Marathons on AMC passed me by, holla, thank you very much.

Kids are home from school now after I lose my facial virginity from getting gang banged pricked in my mouth with one Novocain shot after another and my beams of sparkly, good hued light, that being my 3 kids, best home team ever, don’t even recognize their depleted daddy mushed into the couch watching a Bee Gee’s doc at 3:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, who’s acting more low energy, barely staying alive than Jeb Bush after receiving unsolicited debate stump talking points from Karl Rove on Fox News.  Then, my wife who works as a nurse in the NICU gives me a drug cocktail consisting of Ibuprofen, Tylenol, and Amoxicillin, insisting I don’t need my prescribed pain killers, which she isn’t ecstatic about schlepping back to the Pleasantville pharmacy to pick up, because if this drug cocktail concoction is good enough for a mom who just had c section at her hospital, then, I’m in no position to run my bitchy, flappy, tore up mouth.  Then, I decide to do something about my sad sack, immobile state because I don’t need to see my kids look at me like I’m lounging out on my premature death bed again. So I semi pound a leftover Captain Lawrence Powder Dreams, a hazy, New England Style IPA which put me at immediate ease before I blast Motley Crew’s Too Fast For Love in my room as I resume editing a previous chapter post for upcoming, future bestselling Koshetarian Comedian in no time, like a man possessed to never allow fear mongering imposed by others, influence my self-reliant streak of self-imposed, willed in happiness, without the overreliance and constantly let down disgust stemming from more dashed expectations involving any hopeful expectation of those supposed to help when you need them the most,  to only come up, short, because they really don’t give a shit again, holla, thank you very much.

The laughing gas, mixed with oxygen was nice yet still prompted me to start heckling the Oral Surgeon when I said, “Doc, give me funnier, laughing gas,” because I wasn’t laughing, yet doc was long time, thank you very much. Then, I add, “Hey doc, the fake news laughing gas you’re giving me reminds me of the time I took my daughter to her 1st Grateful Dead parking scene, literally days after her 2nd Birthday up in Bethel Woods, sight of the original Woodstock. I take her for a stroll, feeling such an evolved, liberal cool Dad for a brief fleeting moment, who suddenly questions his alleged, all knowing, wise ways, once I start spotting some dinged up looking hippies sucking down nitrous balloons by the woods like their last working stuck in time, stilted brain cell could barely hang on until feeling nothing but vacant space like lower Manhattan these days, only for my daughter to point at the Nitrous balloons and, ask, “Birthday Daddy?”  And I say, “No Matilda, Burnout Day”, holla, thank you very much.”

Now it’s 5PM and I notice how my wife has no preparation for our Ravioli dinner, which I wasn’t planning on assuming ownership of after getting my wisdom teeth taken out, knowing my mom was in town to “help out” despite her crashing later that night at a hard 7:30 like the fucking Amish kid from Witness, who normally goes to sleep early because either A) He has to wake early to milk a farm full of cows for B) Is burnout on reading the Bible by candlelight again into midnight hour, when his love comes beaming around because it loses its dramatic oomph when you’ve already read it 5000 times before your 8th birthday.  

Still, feeling good about my post, New England IPA buzz on an empty stomach, knowing I’ve removed all fear from my kids prior, by being the high energy dad they love as I keep heckling Alexa to play Slip Of The Lip and Dance, Dance, Dance, by the kings of slithering Sunset Strip metal sleaze Ratt. Although along the way, my surging levels of happiness were flat lined to death when I had to endure annoying lines from my wife such as, “You can’t drink after taking Tylenol, it will wreck your liver.” I say, “If 3 days in Mardi Gras sophomore year in college, in addition to my lushastic, hound dog driven twenties in LA or my poor man’s William Faulkner, bourbon swirling impersonation in my 30’s back in Brooklyn and Queens, didn’t kill off my liver, nothing will babe, holla, thank you very much.”

So, after realizing that the 2 alleged most important adult woman in my life, that being my mother and wife of 10 years, fail to take care of dinner preparation for my 3 kids after getting my wisdom teeth taken out, I assume ownership of the situation and command the room, the way only a seasoned, all star Koshetarian Comedian can. Granted, when you’re not making Ravioli by freaking hand, or even from a pasta making machine, it’s not a drawn out, colossal time suck either. Still, when you take pride in being a yummy dance producer maestro, who’s accustomed to hearing from any of his 3 kids, “More, more”, “This is delicious Daddy” or “You haven’t made a batch this solid in months Daddy ”, you put in the extra effort to make an A Plus marinara sauce from scratch which steals the show, assuming you use your kids like open mikes in the kitchen prior enough to recognize your last 2 batches of bomb Ravioli made from scratch by some old world Italian Grandma, most likely in the same room since the Godfather was released in the boogie down Bronx, were a tad 2 al dente around the edges, to be called a complete resounding success.  

Mario Batali gave me the idea of always using red onions and carrots as a standard solid base every time you make any marinara from scratch, which I did here, having a Chopomatic at my disposal, after breaking the past 2 from being too rough with it, helped me resent my mom’s and wife’s complete lack of interest in any making life fuss free for a change a tad less in the end.  At the same time, I knew mama wouldn’t make this favorite meal for my 3 biggest fans in the universe “with love”, so it was my pleasure to fulfill the glaring Do It All Mom void in the room. After I use the reliable, semi-sturdy Chopomatic to cut some red onion, I grate some shaved carrots before bathing them in a generous pouring of olive oil, flush with peeled off bits of garlic, and chili pepper flakes, for added spicy variety, which adds more titillating lift to our days, before throwing in the chucky yet crushed, San Marzano can of tomato sauce from nearby grocery chain legend, Stew Leonard’s, a reason to live in CT alone or Northern Westchester, really.

I was also hell bent on eye fucking the shit out of the 2 boxes of Ravioli to ensure all those pillowy squares of perfection floated to the top like they were sitting top of the fucking Red Sea, before they were devoured with plenty of mmm, mmm, yumtastic, inhalatory glee, for back-to-back, licked clean servings later. Bonding through noshing with our kids from incorporating them into the creation of better than boobie dishes while using them as open mikes for real time feedback, can make our kids great again, my 3 fuss free kids, 99% of the time, are living proof of it. Thank you sweet Lord, very much.

Michael Kornbluth

In Leo We Trust

Trust is earned from sustained excellence such as Leo’s star powered acting performances in any Tarantino film without fail.   Trust makes the world go around. Trust went out the window after Liver Spots got sworn in as President of the United States without a peep from the Supreme Court the day after Democracy died.  But the Leo Scramble Supreme still reigns supreme and is trustworthy enough to entrust your happiness in him for better days and more hope filled tomorrows, pregnant with superior feel-good possibility. James Brown lives, holla, thank you very much.

Plus, making a LEO, consisting of Lox, Eggs and Onions will always remain an ideal anti-Semitic qualifier gift such as my Great American Jew Novel, knowing this divine blessed delectable breakfast, brunch or dinner worthy delight consists of pricy, cut up, overtly Jewy smoked salmon, caramelized onions and scrambled eggs from local Jewish Farmer legend behemoth, good old Stew Leonard in Connecticut, before the warm, sumptuous, funky fishy ingenious concoction get’s swirled into a bowl with a plop of Cream cheese, which melts easier in a hot bowl of eggs, adding a deeper svelte, thicker tasting dimension of deliciousness, which catapult your burst of feel good joy that much higher, Sly Stone lives, holla, thank you very much.

I hate to get political anymore since thé once boastful construct we the people offered less special value than Prince Harry’s bald spot on the open market or his feel for comedy after dressing up like a Nazi officer for Halloween to get back at mom for looking like an ugly version of E from Entourage, with far less a plus snatch to snag in London town compared to perpetually sunny, twice as smoking hot California girls. Megan Markle doesn’t count, and it’s not because she’s a biracial, royal pain in the ass, holla, thank you very much.

Now, if Prince Harry roasted himself dressed up like a Nazi officer for Halloween, I’d give hardcore Archie some funny man cred, regardless if Ricky Gervais wrote the material for him, who tires of Holocaust films because he’d rather bitch in his latest stand up comedy special about harsh online tweets about his movie career, which never got off the ground, reducing him to be in bed with the Obama’s and Netflix since HBO gave him a nice run while it lasted, now more concerned with unmasking Woody’s go to suck the thumb move, because it, “Calms Dylan down”, despite still showing all of his classic, hilarious films such as Broadway Danny Rose, which technically speaking, came out pre-Soon-Yi. But Louie can’t whip it out in his own dressing room after getting consent from fellow no name lesser female comics in the room without all of his standup comedy specials being taken down in a NY minute from HBO once the full court #meto career work retrospective cancelation began. Have they taken down the Rocky statue in Philly yet because it promotes white supremacy? But back to Ricky Gervais giving Price Harry some primo bashing Nazi material, to at least project the façade of being an ironic detached enjoyer viewer of Jewish humor, such as, “Who would Hitler kill first? A Jewish Albino or a balding ginger with a goatee? And how dumb is the swastika symbol. I don’t care that’s it Hindu, it still looks 2 stick figures doing a sixty-nine on a see saw.”

So back to the Leo Scramble Supreme, my son Samuel Chosen Curls Was Bound Too Woo,.can’t enough of it. He’s 4 by the way. The kid can request for me to play Slippery When Wet by Bon Jovi on Vinyl or in the car through Spotify, can ask daddy to reheat the rest of his Leo Scramble Supreme, yet still can’t go to bed without a nappy, without me dropping his saggy, drenched filled nappy down our stairwell the following morning, only to sing, with unmatched, father son bonding glee, “Big plopping”, Warrant Lives, they sang Big Talking, holla, thank you very much.

Again, Chosen Curls Was Bound To Woo no longer dumps in his pants and goes to the bathroom for a number 2 with big boy precision. At the same time, one night, as I got ready to read the Guinness Book Of World Records, wanting to kill myself soon after from learning how much money Kevin Hart made last, year, which doesn’t make me a hater, just a bemused, short on laughs spectator. I do love his energy, and don’t think he’s a bad actor, whose gotten better over time, whom I believe, should buy the film rights to convert an autobiography of Wilson Picket to snag him 1 Oscar more than Eddie, who doesn’t have the balls to do a stand up comedy special again for some dumb reason such as not wanting to be deemed a divisive comedian who dared to make fun of Michelle Obama’s new parody remake, playing Tina Turner, titled, “What’s Talent Got To Do With It.” And Wilson Picket sang my favorite lyric, “I found a true love, and I can shout about her, yeah, yeah”, a truer call to action that I give a shit about taking, not uttered on LinkedIn, as never been blasted with such soul man reverberating bravado, holla, thank you very much. Anyway, this meandering piece is what you get when I’m off Adderall and my mother is in town blaming the great state of Texas for having to burn fucking furniture while Liver Spots can’t be bothered to visit or have FEMA offer nothing more than air dropped leftover Spam reserves from World War 2 or some impossible to defrost packets of TANG leftover from our moon landing the sixties before we learned JFK told Frank to not invite Sammy Davis Junior to his inauguration, because becoming a Jew, was a double whammy against him, which he should’ve known would put his desirability factor in extreme Jeopardy with Nazi profiteering Joe Kennedy in control of his son’s balls as a whole, regardless of the war hero “Being the brightest star in the universe for a time”, according to his backstabbed friend, old blue eyes, who didn’t sing New York, New York, until his late 60’s during his more pleasantly content plump years.

Yeah, so back to my son Chosen Curls, I’m getting ready for reading time and about to throw some sweats on for the occasion because I don’t give a shit about looking like a Trophy Dad when mama isn’t home at 9 on a Tuesday and my 4-year-old son barks at me, “Spread your cheeks.” I said, “Where the hell did you learn the expression, “Spread your cheeks”? Are you watching old episodes of OZ on the HBO app when I’m banging out more all-star chapter additions to my collection of short stories, Waste Of Height, Really Short Stories or what?”

So, the LEO Scramble Supreme is the bomb and couldn’t be easier to make, even Hunter Biden can handle making it with the hangover from hell, whose hell raising ways, makes my younger brother come off as a serial underachiever. And if a man is judged by the fruit he enables, and if Liver Spots is a real man of unifying integrity, why wouldn’t Mr. Unity tell his son to cut out creaming into his dead brother’s wife after his cremation ensued? The most amount of loving attention to the Leo Scramble Supreme is paid toward the caramelizing of the onions in butter under a low heat, but make sure to add some extra deepening caramelizing agent at the end, which could be simple as a drop of pristine NY tap water or from bottled Smart Water, which adds an extra spring step to your step, making you feel like Jennifer Aniston on the rebound. After you caramelize the onions, mix them into beat up egg batter mix, with chopped up pieces of smoked salmon before dropping them into a semi hot pan, bubbling with butter yumminess itching to be immersed with such delectable, pristine, bright orange, slivers of smoked salmon but don’t be too aggressive with swirling the eggs into mini circulation motions before they get cooked through enough, before reaching the point of rubbery sucky return. The last step is throwing the LEO Scramble Supreme into a bowl with a pre-plopped mound of cream cheese, which makes swirly stick together as one magic possible and like my son Chosen Curls Was Bound To Woo, you’ll be made in the shade, made in the shade.

Michael Kornbluth

Dr. Seuss Is Tony Robbins For Kids

Dr. Seuss’s illustrations are steeped in harmful stereotypes they say. But I don’t recall him drawing a picture of BLM protestors looting the Gucci store, who refuse to pay.

Dr. Seuss drew a picture of a topless African in a grass shirt. He’s a racist then, it’s set. But I didn’t know Fubu was in fashion yet.

Has anybody complained about the hooked nosed, Goblin Bankers in Harry Potter yet? You know Mel Gibson was overjoyed with that movie set. Did JK Rowling, think, I’m hiring Mel Gibson as the set designer on my flick, Mel being a throbbing Jew hater dick, makes him my automatic number one pick.

What if I don’t care for Green Eggs and Ham? This means what, I hate the Irish race and refuse to play beer bong with them at such a rapid fire pace? Or does it mean, I insist on watching Irish movies with subtitles because of the funny way they sound, while also refusing to unfold my arms and dance in junior high to more Jump Around?

Dr. Seuss drew pictures of Asians eating with chopsticks, how sick. It’s worse than drawing a picture of Cardi’s B dropping her slippery chopsticks into her cum bucket, full of other forgotten stuffing’s in there like a lost lost chicken nugget.

What happens in the book, And To Think I Saw It on Mulberry St? Did Sonny and his crew beat up a bunch of rowdy bikers on the street, because they sprayed beer on the bartender and should’ve stuck to ordering their drinks neat? Wait a minute that happened in the Bronx Tale. American made mafia tales about the working man can’t be beat. I only wish Chazz Palminteri’s acting career, still packed so much heat.

Dr. Seuss is the Tony Robins for kids, who continues to inspires millions of kids to keep fighting for their dreams, instead of recommending they watch, 13 Reasons Why, whenever they feel their lives are falling apart at the seams.

Dr. Seuss was right. There is fun to be done and games to win. Just stop playing the victim, give Twitter a time out or just dump your tablet into the trash bin.

Michael Kornbluth

Dr. Seuss is Tony Robbins For Kids

Dr. Seuss’s illustrations are steeped in harmful stereotypes they say. But I don’t recall him drawing a picture of BLM protestors looting the Gucci store, who refuse to pay.

Dr. Seuss drew a picture of a topless African in a grass skirt. He’s a racist then, it’s set. But I didn’t know Fubu was in fashion yet.

Has anybody complained about the hooked nosed, Goblin Bankers in Harry Potter yet? You know Mel Gibson was overjoyed with that movie set. Did JK Rowling, think, I’m hiring Mel Gibson as the set designer on my flick, Mel being a throbbing Jew hater dick, makes him my automatic number one pick.

What if I don’t care for Green Eggs and Ham? This means what, I hate the Irish race and refuse to play beer bong with them at such a rapid fire pace? Or does it mean, I insist on watching Irish movies with subtitles because of the funny way they sound, while also refusing to unfold my arms and dance in junior high to more Jump Around?

Dr. Seuss drew pictures of Asians eating with chopsticks, how sick. It’s worse than drawing a picture of Cardi’s B dropping her slippery chopsticks into her cum bucket, full of other forgotten stuffing’s in there like a lost lost chicken nugget.

What happens in the book, And To Think I Saw It on Mulberry St? Did Sonny and his crew beat up a bunch of rowdy bikers on the street, because they sprayed beer on the bartender and should’ve stuck to ordering their drinks neat? Wait a minute that happened in the Bronx Tale. American made mafia tales about the working man can’t be beat. I only wish Chazz Palminteri’s acting career, still packed so much heat.

Dr. Seuss is the Tony Robins for kids, who continues to inspires millions of kids to keep fighting for their dreams, instead of recommending they watch, 13 Reasons Why, whenever they feel their lives are falling apart at the seams.

Dr. Seuss was right. There is fun to be done and games to win. Just stop playing the victim, give Twitter a time out or just dump your tablet into the trash bin.

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