Chapter 30 Second City Envy

Chapter 30

Second City Envy

A native New Yorker like Joshua, who only grew up only 30 minutes north of Manhattan in the suburb of Edgemont, NY, should never have been jealous of the Second City in Chicago but he was. The Second City in his eyes, was a tougher city, given birth to Isiah Thomas, a huge theater town staging David Mamet plays up the wazoo, the Improv training ground for Belushi, Farley, John Candy and the Midwest muse for screenwriter director great John Hughes in addition being the breeding ground for electric blues, slide guitar greats who all inspired Jimi Hendrix to jack his guitar like there’s no tomorrow such as Muddy Waters, Albert King and Buddy, I made a guitar down south growing up as a share cropper’s son out of fucking, busted porch door Guyyy. Also, let’s not forget Joshua was a hardcore Knicks fan, so every winter growing up, he was left with no choice but to look up to MJ and Scottie Pippen in enraged awe as they lit up the Garden like the tree at Rockefeller Center every year, despite New York bred annilaters from Jamaica Queens such as Anthony, deltoids strong Mason, manhandling them in post whenever they took the ball to the hoop strong with all his, I can wrestle 20 NYPD cops down hard to the ground, without breaking a sweat while resisting arrest might.

The late great Bernie Mac hailed from sweet home Chicago, who Joshua admired for his hardcore suck up your ego jobs, like driving a Wonder Bread Truck throughout the south side of Chicago when he was an aspirational stand up comic, who hadn’t won the Miller High Lite Amateur Comic competition just yet. In particular, Joshua loved how Bernie Mac didn’t limit his joke slinging to just the mere open mike stage, turning the bus or subway in Chicago into his own performance space the way Dice would launch into his act before movies started playing in Westwood by UCLA, proving the “world is your stage” like Shakespeare said back in the day. Joshua adopted a similar approach since becoming an unplanned stay at home comedian, using his Do It All Dad Year Podcast, as a platform to perform his topical jokes on how Michelle Obama claims it was racist to flee the South Side of Chicago, acting as if the South Side of Chicago, always the city’s most violent part, was only 1 crepe food truck from Gentrification. Joshua would add, “Gentrification, you know liberal talk for less black people. The other day, I’m driving on the Deegan past the new Yankee Stadium and I point to my daughter, “Look Matilda, the new Yankee stadium, the house that gentrification built.” Joshua would also never shy away from sampling jokes at the local post office, where Joshua picked up his mail, aiming his comedic blasts on the Mayor of New York City, Mayor De-Blasio saying, “Did you know Mayor De-Blasio’s wife used to be a hardcore Park Slope Lesbo yet were supposed to believe Garlic Breath converted her? Also, the Mayor eats pizza with a fork and knife. So, you can really see Big Bird burying his beak into wife’s slippery snatch with such sloppy abandon? It sounds like a plausible theory to digest. Now, thanks to Mayor Putz Face, you can be fined 250 thousand dollars for using dehumanizing language on an illegal alien such as, “No speak English.” Whose translating these insults for Juan exactly? Now, an illegal alien in New York City gets a NY license to vote and a hate speech translator to bankrupt Apu at a Bodega in Flushing. And enough with banning ICE. Because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years. Last, on the anniversary of Amy Winehouse’s death, has Minnesota congressional rep Baby Face Omar referred to the anniversary has something happened to a beehive, horn hiding, Benjamin Lover who exploited the great Palestinian song book for all it was worth. Can I get a holla for a big time raising the roof, because I’m just getting started and you can only hope to contain him Challah?

Joshua also took Improv acting courses at Second City when he lived in LA, and got to inhale Harrison Ford’s assistant practically whole at a bar dark lit, bar in Korea town before David Chang got to drop f bombs for a living on the Food Network, coming off as super deep, enlightened cool in the process. Easily, Joshua’s most sexually arousing Karaoke bar performance was at a local Karaoke joint down the street in Korea Town, was when he performed the song Soul Man by Sam and Dave, getting the random girls in the audience quite sticky steamy in process, to the point where they were gyrating and shaking to his best Wilson Picket Man and a Half “It’s the other half, that knocks woman out. That’s why I’m a man and a half”, impression. Prior Joshua was used to sticking with his developing Baba O’Reiley rendition, including various jump heavy but still barely leaving the ground windmill guitar strumming kicks. But the Who’s most kick ass, recognizable, teenage wasteland homage song, didn’t rouse any of the ladies at the townie valley bar the Barrell, to get their sexual dance freak on, in attempt to win over his attention before either. In retrospect, Joshua realized he had what they call in show business, “stage presence.” But back then, Joshua was just doing Karaoke to get more comfortable performing in front of strangers to make bombing in front of various open mike audiences throughout Studio City, Santa Monica, West Hollywood and Venice Beach a tad worrisome laced daunting. In short, Joshua was forcing himself to become a less cerebral, worrisome, Jewy, neurotic bitch, really. At the same time, Joshua getting into Karaoke, performing songs, he loved like Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi or Roadhouse Blues by the Doors was a reflection of his inner rock star, in a desperate dash to break on through to other side because like Richard Belzer, known more his poker faced, dry as cotton mouth witticisms, on Law and Order Special Victims Unit, when he said, “All comedians, are frustrated rock stars.”

Joshua also attended Lake Forrest College for 2 years on the north shore of Illinois because he just wanted to get out of New York and try something new, but it really came down to him hooking up with some upper classman during his trip to the college, which influenced his decision the most. Joshua had an older, platonic friend, Shannon who had a place in downtown, Chicago, and he enjoyed getting his puff on with his other hippie buds down there plenty, yet what he really longed for was Chicago city life in bars and clubs such as Walter Payton’s, which closed at 1:30, which sucks out loud for any native New Yorker. For all the talk about how progressive LA is, the last call is even earlier at a hard 1. Plus, all the girls in Chicago, look like prettiest faces from Indiana, which is fine, but failed to give Joshua sustained stiffage during his time in the Midwest either. The energy of Chicago wasn’t on par with his dear Manhattan, not even close. It was impossible to not feel like an outsider when Joshua when to college for 2 years in the midwest, knowing it was the 1st time he developed a heightened awareness to Jews being a miniscule minority in this country at large, while most preferred to keep it that way. And boy could those Midwest girls drink. He used to party with these girls from Illinois who would haul a case a Bush light on each shoulder before hitting the bottle of Beam in honor of Kid Rock as the clock truck midnight to more Cheap Trick on the old school dorm CD player. and Joshua was no lightweight, accustomed to closing down bars at 4 in the morning back in Manhattan with his old school high school crew, never running out of breath as they maintained a steady steam of busting balls throughout. Still, did Joshua love Kayne West? Yes, but did he love Kayne more than the soulful, cinematic powered, lyricism of Notorious Big? Not even close. Did Joshua love Harold Ramis films like Ghost Busters and Ground Hog’s Day? Yes, but he’d watch most Woody Allen films before he learned he kept polaroids of Soon Yee in his top sock drawer, because the Time life photo of her wasn’t enough. Did Joshua revere bands who hailed from Chicago like the Smashing Pumpkins and Pearl Jam? Yes, but he revered bands such as shout it out loud Kiss, from Queens and the boogie Bronx even more. Bernie Mac was great in Joshua’s eyes, but he was no Chris Rock, Eddie, Dice, or Kennan Ivory Wayans for that matter. Overall, Joshua loved his New York heroes more because they exuded superior style, gravitas and larger than life charisma, only the Island of Manhattan engenders the most. The prettiest, sexist, most diverse collection of ladies populated the streets of SOHO, the West Village and parts of the Lower East Side in NOHO in his eyes. The only city he ever wanted to live in was Manhattan, not Chicago. Still, Manhattan could feel like a very lonely place at the bottom and Joshua wasn’t a big shot macher just yet. Still, Chicago represented the American heartland, which was important to Joshua, especially knowing that those working artists who strived and thrived in the Second City, compared to their more uppity, elitist New Yorker yenta breaths were tougher than the rest.

Chap. 25 Persian Puss Fever (New End)


Chapter 25

Persian Puss Fever

Joshua had a very successful friend from Edgemont High School, who now lived in SOHO on West Broadway, clearing almost 400K from doing ad sales for companies at the ideal time in their maturation such as FX, when they became the new air apparent to HBO with smash, genre bending hits such as the Shield and It’s Always Sunny, which he revered as the most dynamic comedy to advance the art form post Curb without having to be overtly Jewy one iota in the process. His friend, also a groomsmen at his wedding, was the superior basketball player in high school, who he’d battle hard in games of one on one basketball and in legendary games of HORSE made a splashy move to the city of angels and worked for Hulu, selling advertising to all the dream factories in Century City and Burbank, before Harvey Weinstein’s wife finally divorced him to focus on her lifetime battle with amnesia. 3 kids later, Joshua
didn’t get out much to see his old school high school bud, but if they did connect over the phone, making his wife jealous at how much rollicking, laugh producing fun he was having without her, he’d always end the conversation the same way every time with his old school basketball bud in arms, “Bang a Persian girl for me already, because I can’t.”

The 1st time Joshua got sexually charged around a mountainous chesty, pursed lipped, dark tan, olive smooth skinned, slightly broad shouldered, bootylicious Persian minx was during interoffice meetings with one his IT recruiter agency colleagues who worked in Westwood, California on Wilshire down a couple of blocks for the nearby Boylston Group. She had graduated Georgetown University and was the brightest, bustiest yet classiest, highest biller in her team who placed mostly Oracle DBA’s among various Internet startups through Southern California by far. Joshua learned not to place too much value on someone’s undergrad college education but he was a tad more east coast elitist back then, and knew Georgetown wasn’t accepting any dummies, so him being a tad of a college snob, touting the Bachelor pedigree degree of his past summer wind love Katy who graduated Duke in 3 years as a double major, so this Persian beauty in his eyes, who wasn’t petite by any stretch of the imagination, who was a brainy busty sweetheart rainmaker on top, turned him on longtime. If Joshua had any major balls back in the day, he would’ve made a move on her, but upper management told their naive, cultish minions getting jiggy with it with their fellow coworkers was a fireable offense, and Joshua was finally enjoying being off his parents nip of dependence, so he never did. It was only after he got fired, did Joshua learn the rule was fake news bullshit, and managers were banging co-workers at will left and right, but at least he developed a modicum of character building self-discipline in the process. The Bhagavad Gita lists the 3 portals to hell being lust, greed and anger and at the time Joshua wasn’t even aware of being fooled into passing on such a prime opportunity to pounce on his 1st Persian bombshell beauty, so he didn’t have too much to be enraged about in the process either. Still, Joshua had one month on the job at nearby Remington International, where he did deals with Coke O Cola, Zenith National Insurance and some obscure Internet startup Creative Planet, placing a gazillion Unix Administrators, earning his firm almost 100K in placement fees and a seat at the all-stars dinner at the Sunset Room. Which made Joshua feel like a hot shit for the 2nd time in his life after his 1st sales raise dinner at Morton’s on Beverly Hills, inhaling a porter house for 2 and shrimp wrapped in Bacon, thinking, life doesn’t get better than this on top of what the fuck what was my dad thinking, denying me exposure to what scrumptious heavenly sales promotion dinners awaited as a result of sheer hard work and self-possessed determination, despite at the time being the only schmuck in a headset to graduate from a top communication school in the country with a career crippling stutter. Which Joshua eventually overcame, through relentless, repetitious, around the clock cold calling heavy, exposure therapy.

Joshua’s escalating, all consuming, fixated desire to mount the scrumptious, highly inhalable, star Persian IT agency recruiter reached peak interest on their drive to work together the morning after their All Star Sales award dinner at the Sunset Room, that she attended of course. Because today, he wasn’t driving to work in his used yet cherished hunter green Honda Accord but in her BMW,l but she was still only 22 max, so this means she came from money also, schwing. Never before had any sexy gal Joshua fantasized about titty blasting had offered a leather interior BMV to drive, so he knew the sexually charged interest was mutual. But as Robert Dinero says in the movie Copland, starring the holy trinity of actors Harvey Keitel, Ray Liotta and Sly Stallone, “I gave you a chance and you blew it.”

It was impossible not think of hot to trot love, at the Polo Lounge Restaurant on 5th Ave, as Joshua was surrounded by a myriad of oil paintings of mo-money making star race horses like Man O War and other Arabian race horse beauties, as Joshua also took in the tall, slender, sculpted, high cheek bone pronounced, Persian beauty, Ester has he continued to scroll, through the menu, trying to decide what limited Kosher items to choose from on the menu during their 1st power lunch together. Joshua get’s his Kosher inspired rant underway, “Ralph Lauren, baby, I love your overpriced Polo shirts because they’re sturdy, classier alternatives to schmatta Tommy Hilfiger wigger polos, weird sized numbered, instantly shrinkable, Lacoste shirts and Vineyard Vine shirts because I’d rather dress for old school, scrappier, Bronx bred, pre-smart phone success. Still, what the fuck were you thinking, making your marquee sandwich, a corned beef sandwich with swiss on marbled rye, knowing pastrami rubbed brisket is ten times more soul tantalizing scrumptious 8 days a week? Also, marble rye, are you freaking kidding me? Was pure rye too overtly Jewy for your country club, Gentile loving tastes?” Esther, the star executive search owner of Silicon Alley replies, “You’re too funny Joshua. How are you not working?” Joshua replies, “Because God has a wicked, sense of humor. But I appreciate the invite here, to be surrounded in such a posh, clubby, wannabe be a rich gentile setting.” Esther says, “I feel like an unwanted outsider in here also, for what it’s worth. I don’t care that Giselle is sitting next to Tom Brady one table over.” Joshua says, “Eli Manning is a bigger pimp daddy than Tom Brady for ruining his shot at perfection. So, Tom Brady is married to Giselle, big deal, she’s 80 in model years. Also, why isn’t Terry Bradshaw even mentioned among the best quarterbacks ever? He won 4 rings and never lost in the Super Bowl once. Plus, he was also known for airing it out. Fine, that much he shares in common with Brady. I read some article recently about how Tom Brady did some comedy sketch on Netflix about Patriots owner Bob Kraft’s fondness for happy endings, denying the jokes were about him. Because his ex-owner could never be guilty of exploiting underage sex trafficking, because he only insists on using older happy enders who weren’t yanked off the boat yesterday.” Esther finishes spitting out more mouthfuls of laughter and says, “I’m an LA girl, born and raised, so I’m a Raiders fan myself, but I don’t care for Tom Brady’s personality all too much either. He also dumped his pregnant ex actress wife, the moment he fell in love with Giselle’s uppity, lispy snatch, just saying.” Joshua says, “I’m glad you found my contact info on LinkedIn like any Executive Recruiter with a brain would. I love the fact how you became a consummate rainmaker in the startup tech recruitment agency game, I was much more of a trickeler.” Esther says, “I envision mucho dinero money shots in your future Joshua.” Joshua says, “Well, I do have this idea for a food truck. Would you know of any super angel investors you can get me a meeting with? My vision is to create a food truck, which sells the Do It All Dad Hero, which is a Kosher rib eye, cheese steak, with a mock cheese wiz substitute. And I’d launch a viral bash campaign against the Hallall guys, about who would you rather submit your cheese steak urges to, all mighty God or all the blood thirsty, rape happy, throw gays off roof tops preaching Allah? I read on, Hallall guys have to pray to Allah, before their ritual slaughtering, versus Kosher slaughtered cows, who don’t use the stun gun, who unlike the Hallall guys, aren’t required by law to give any praise worthy shout outs to a God who instructs his true believers to treat woman like disposable bee keeper punching bags.” Esther says, “I agree with everything you’re saying and would recommend softening your viral attack campaign against the Hallall guys just a bit. Still, I love your fierce, fiery, fighting style. You’re more Bronx bred scrappy than you think big boy.”

Joshua spots Spike Lee waiving his hand up in the air causing a scene in front of his white privilege waiter, clearing 400 a day before 2 easy and excuses himself from the table. “I’ll be right back Ester. I want to pay homage to the Knicks jilted mascot Spike Lee.”  Joshua hovers tall over Spike Lee’s table, only learn he’s dining with Chris Rock. “Hey, Spike, sorry to hear about the Garden not letting you into employee entrance way. I’m positive it had nothing to do with your Resist This shirt, or your portrayal of all Jews in your films not being such fine people in the face of your insistence of sucking off Jew demonizing Farrakhan for all his signed bow tie collection is worth.  How does it feel knowing, still your President, Donald Trump directed the construction of Wollman Rink under budget and ahead of schedule, knowing you couldn’t do the same for Malcolm X? Malcolm X was bisexual but why didn’t you portray that in your film Spike? I thought you were all about celebrating the beautiful, strong, totality of the black man inside and out? And thanks for giving your impressionable brothers the encouraged permission to riot and burn a second generation pizza joint to the ground because they didn’t care for fake news, underprivileged Chuck D from yenta breath country in Long Island, rapping about how Elvis was no role model of yours, but Chuck Berry installing a secret female bathroom cam in his Missouri restaurant was Kosher in your book because they were just stupid white bitches, who you should’ve know better, right Spike?” Chris Rock says, “You’re move Spike. I don’t know who this crazy ass cracker is but is shit talking game is tight.” Joshua adds, “Huge fan Chris, I stopped watching the Knicks after they traded KP for a box of Cotton Candy.” But the garden faithful like yourself know deep down Uni will fly high again. And tell your boy Stephen A his take on his why they traded KP was lame. KP’s brother agent made Dolan uncomfortable because he reminded him too much of the Russian gangsters in 25th hour? Now, that was a great film you directed Spike. Positive it had nothing to do with you not writing the screenplay, the book was based on. Last, Chris, you don’t believe KP raped a neighbor in his Manhattan apartment building, the day he tore his ACL, do you? Do you see Harvey Hair Clumps Weinstein trying to rape Wonder Woman played by Gal Gadot only one good leg?” Chris Rock replies, “Who are you again? And why have I never seen you the Cellar before ever?” Spike interjects, “Rock, I love your like a brother from another mother, but if you suck off his big headed Jew’s ego for one more second, our friendship is over, you dig?”  Joshua throws down his Do It All Dad Year Podcast business card for Rock on the table and says “Call me some time Chris. I’d love to write a movie or create a new TV show with you some time. Oh, and congrats on your 40 million stand up deal with Netflix because the white man, can no longer get away with paying the great Chris Rock with only one rib.” Joshua heads back to his table with Esther triumphant, after showcasing his Bronx bred scrappy, fighter instincts, back, back in a New York groove once more.

Chapter 24 Memories of Meh Brisket

Burnt anemic, miniscule steaks was Joshua’s idea of eating Kosher, growing up in the hilly, leafy, pine tree rich, Colonial and Tudor lined streets, of Edgemont, New York. Sure, his converted mother made Brisket on a special occasion for Rosh Hashanah, cooked in margarine but not butter because of the rule prohibiting mixing dairy and meat, accompanied with a killer, sultry yet sweet onion based, brownish, teetering on Burgundy red gravy, which beat kosher ground meat burger night, minus the melted Landa Lakes American cheese on top any day of the week. Understand, Joshua’s mother was a good converted Jewish wife, who found the time to make Kosher prepared meals, ready to be served around 6:30 almost every night, even after she started commuting to the big city again to work as a high ranking Loan Officer  JP Morgan Chase  in their corporate office in Midtown Manhattan, which was no easy feat to pull off, on Adderall or off. Still, Joshua felt a tinge of sadness on his mom’s behalf, when she recently asked him what was his favorite meal growing up a kid, which had nothing to do with his Dad’s  hurried, half ass scramble eggs on some random Saturday morning before basketball practice before more hamstring tightening suicide drills ensued. If Joshua was reared on more than just P and J sandwiches throughout elementary school and got off his ass to jog around the local track instead of trying to win Metroid on Nintendo or beat Mike Tyson in Mike Tyson’s Punchout one more time, than others could, his hamstrings wouldn’t have felt like mint jelly after running suicide drills his 1st day of Basketball practice, seeped in Mineral Ice all over either.  But now that Joshua was a parent of 3, in charge of getting his kid’s breakfasts and lunches ready every day before school and realized there’s only so much time in a day to be a do it all dad mom, especially when he made the extra effort to make all of his dish creations for his Pescatarian raised kids with, love, so he could inspire more yummy dances from kids as they’d all run around the kitchen table through the adjoining living room and back, declaring, with soul glowing glee, “Best daddy ever”, or simply proclaim, “This is so yummy, I don’t want to stop eating to run around, proclaiming best daddy ever.”

Making homemade hummus sandwiches for his kids, with ground up sesame seeds in place of pre-made, always chalky tasting Tahini, fresh lemon squeezes throughout, in addition to generous heaps of salt, and a diced up garlic bulb thrown in between, in addition to a vibrant, pinch of fresh grated carrots on top of good country white bread, was the least Joshua could do for his kids playful radiance and around the clock shrieks of joy, giving him nothing but generous, long lasting tastes of heaven on earth.  Using pre sliced cheddar slices for his kids peach jam sandwiches on good old country white bread wasn’t good enough for Joshua, regardless if those cheese slices were sliced and shipped from the Cabot cheese company in Vermont. No, Joshua insisted on not circumcising his children’s collective, endlessly budding happiness one bit, by forgoing the easy, half ass route in favor of taking only a couple of extra minutes to bust out the good old cheese shredder and grate some Seriously Sharp Vermont Cheddar for his kids Peach and Cheddar sandwiches on Country White Bread that morning, because he knew it imparted a juicer, fresher, more delectable, highly superior bite. Plus, Joshua incorporated feedback from his kids when Mama just plopped the pre-cut cheddar on instead, realizing, the extra effort always paid off. “God is in the details”, is what Joshua would sear into his children’s creatively jacked craniums ad nauseum, which he picked up from a book on songwriting by the legendary scribe Stephen Sondheim before his bundles of happiness spewing joy were born.  “God is in the details”, which explains why Joshua took such tremendous pride in his headline hooker prowess on display when The Good Men Project published a myriad 24 of his blog on parenting this past year, encapsulating the true definition of click bait, including such A plus titles such as, My Clown Origin Story, written after he saw the new Joker film, What Gen X Parents Understand, Wishing My Son’s Birthday Never Blows, Children Are Family Upgrades, Pride On My Side, The Last Self-Loving Jewish New Yorker, Born Again Newborn Dads, alright fine the last title is a tad long winded confusing but you should get the gist by now.  “God is in the details”, furthered evidenced by the tremendous nachas he received from getting his son’s Social Security card in the mail, reading, Arthur Morrison Kornbluth. Understand, the Yiddish word nachas is exclusively used to describe the swelling of sweet, prideful emotion, a Jewish parent derives from their kid’s accomplishments like getting into Cornell, early acceptance or Billy Crystal signing on to do a movie with your infinitely less talented, dweebier seed of a son. But not every Jewish dad, native New Yorker or not has the gaul to name their 1st born Arthur Morrison Kornbluth after the most charismatic, dark prince of poetry rock, who’s easier on the eyes than Patti Smith, that being, Jim, mother fucking, Mojo Rising Morrison.  Plus, similar to the self-proclaimed Lizard King, Joshua wasn’t one to follow the rules of so called, normal, Waspy, lobotomized, monotone you to fucking death, bourgeois behavior either, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to break conversation with his old school recruiter bud, Gary mid stride while passing the corporate office of JP Morgan, only to hail down the great comedy writer actor and operator of Triumph The Insult Dog, Robert Smigel and proclaim, “Hey, Smigel, next time you see Sandler, tell him to put you in more of his films already. Joshua always loved Smigel’s brief cameos in Adam Sandler films like him playing he borophyil science teacher in Billy Madison, or the once aspirational hand model turned cell phone salesman in Don’t Mess With the Zohan. But Joshua didn’t stop there, feeling the compulsory need to impress Smigel with new schtick, fresh off the press, so Smigel would feel extra blessed. Joshua noticed Smigel wearing a Brooklyn Nets hat and says, “I thought you were  aKnicks fan, Smigel. I used to lived with my girlfriend now wife in Park Slope, Brooklyn ages ago, back when Lena Dunham had much skinnier arms and wasn’t so full of herself. I’m a father of 2 now. Just named my son Arthur Morrison Kornbluth. For a moment, I considered giving him the middle name Brooks in honor of the great Albert Brooks but then I changed my mind because I didn’t want to give my son the permission to be a Jewish pussy.” Smigel laughs out loud long time. In the end, Joshua pitched his impossible to remember website of old, without a business card to share at the moment.  Being an oasis of organization was never Joshua’s forte but fearlessly bombarding famous actors, stand up comedians and WGA represented writers was.  Sometimes, his cold calling conjuring, celebrity reach outs didn’t always materialize so smoothly.  Once, Joshua was with some old high school buds after having a couple of J&B scotches on the rocks in his system, Rodney Dangerfield’s preferred, reasonably priced, scotch of choice and bum rushes the comic’s comic Dave Attell outside the Comedy Cellar smoking a cigarette with another of his black comic buds, Joshua didn’t recognize and still doesn’t considering he never thought enough of him to remember his name afterwards despite him delivering the far superior laugh line to anything Joshua uttered during this punch drunk love, wannabe make out session with the personification of zero bullshit cool Dave Attell. Joshua goes into this lengthy, roundabout summation of Dave Attel’s career going, “I knew you were doing late night sets at the Cellar for 10 years at 2 in the morning in front of 2 sailors in town for Fleet Week, if Allen Ginsburg, hadn’t tied them up captive in his rent controlled apartment in East Village just yet”, blah, blah, blah. Then, finally without flinching, Attell says in a ball busting yet strangely uncomfortable manner, “Thanks a lot Ryan Seacrest.” Which, still makes Joshua laugh till this day, making him realizing the highly under-appreciated, under-celebrated talent of distilling the bare bones, funny essence of a moment in real life, with such razor sharp, crystal clarity, only a battle hardened, 300 a shows a year comic, can fart out at will, when the moment calls for it like the great Dave Attel.  But again, the best line of this evening, was uttered by Dave Attell’s black comic friend sitting next to him, outside the Cellar, who after taking in Joshua’s long winded, career retrospective of Dave Attel’s career, where he just finished sucking of the totality of his career peaking arc for all it was worth says, “What am I chopped liver?”

It was impossible for Joshua not  to reflect on these random encounters with the upper crest of Jewish entertainers on the Island of Manhattan, as he stared down the menu at the Polo Lounge.  Sitting across from Silicon Alley, Executive Search owner star Ester as Spike Lee enters the bar, Joshua got visibly annoyed scrolling through the menu, not seeing much to order outside of buckets of caviar, knowing a corned beer on marble rye with melted Swiss wasn’t going to cut it either, since Joshua decided to be more a stylish, proper Mensch and fear God’s wrath for not sticking with his God commanded Kosher diet, despite it meaning bullshit to fake news good guy guardians of morality like Bill Maher, who never would’ve been accused of pussy grabbing in the age of meto because he’s only 4 foot 2.
















Chapter 23 Fucking Australia

Chapter 23

Fucking Australia

Growing up, Joshua got the most sexually charged from the sandy covered navel of Elle The Body MacPherson on the cover of Sports Illustrated, before the magazine started sporting Muslim models in Burkini’s, screaming, “Stayed focused on my Kathy Ireland eyes Infidel.” For a native New Yorker, Australian accents never sounded too intrusive in public like some stuffy, mole faced Brit was sticking their tongue down your throat without granting them permission. Still, Joshua would always bust his brother-in-law’s balls, he grew up in Australia for a bit, for his tendency to revert back to his Aussie heavy accent whenever he hit on girls before getting married, because without revitalizing the accent of old, he had zero pick up game around woman whatsoever. Citing your time in San Diego, working as a video game tester, didn’t inspire fetching beauties in the gas light district, to mount his uncircumcised flap of mound on the spot. But Joshua would give credit where credit is earned, especially, when his now official brother in law, made a comment at his wedding, stating, “I never knew anyone who could love my sister as much as Joshua does.” Now, you can also interpret that statement as a backhanded compliment, implying, I never found the bitch too lovable to begin with. Instead, Joshua interpreted the warm-hearted homage, as a moving testament, to the power of love. Also, when Joshua had announced to his future in-laws, at a restaurant in Park Slope, Brooklyn about being engaged to their Aussie reared daughter, before the family was uprooted to Greenville, Delaware, known for it’s state slogan, “Your Nazi Gold is safe with us”, you could hear the empty bottle of poison drop after Hitler and Eva Braun croaked on a serving of self-defeat, no longer feeling so masterful against the dying of the light. Still, in spite of the prolonged period of never ending, infuriating building silence, Anna’s younger brother, showcased his inner mensch, raising his wine glass, to toast the announcement. Later, he took a friendly bonding stroll with Joshua through the bucolic, Brownstone dominated streets of Park Slope north of 6th Avenue toward Prospect Park, Frederick Olmsted’s favorite park creation even more so than Central Park for all those Ken Burns suck him off wannabes at home. Anna’s younger brother even commented on the relief their union brought him saying, “Falling in love with his sister was great for her because of her being deep into the raver scene prior.” Again, Joshua thought this was a very classy touch, knowing the love of his life, had a younger brother, who cared about her well being and overall happiness, more than he normally would make you believe.

Joshua loved the tour group he met during his trip to the Great Barrier Reef on his honeymoon, after they erupted in laughter from his old bit about them wanting to get married in Australia but making a compromise, stating, “Babe, assuming we have a boy together one day, instead of hiring a Moyle for the circumcision, will hire Crocodile Dundee, just so we can hear a room full of Jews, say, now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.”

Before Joshua, took a recent trip to London for the 1st time, with Anna he reached out to Jim Jefferies manager, accessing his email address on good old IMDB Pro and emoted about the incredible body of masterful comedic work, they’ve amassed together, inspiring Joshua to exploit his own catchphrase, “unhuggable cunt”, for all it was worth, considering the Aussie funny man’s fondness for his serially unapologetic, consistently hilarious use of the word himself for profitable gain. If a wannabe, funny man, resistor Twitter twat, couldn’t handle sticking to being a poor man’s, woke Bill Simmons, at Deadspin like Drew Magary and actually exuded more impactful, jealous inducing, ha, ha inducing prose or palpable, likeable gravitas of any kind, Joshua would feel compelled to call him an unhuggable cunt also. Jim Jefferie’s manager gave Joshua a very warm response, offering to send his demo stand up reel to the gate keeper in charge of the Edinburgh comedy festival, where Dennis Leary launched his famed comedy career back in the day, before he started fashioning himself as a political comic, you should give 2 shits about like a lesser, Nick Di Paolo minus the millennial fan base catering slobbering placation.

When Joshua went to Australia on his honeymoon with his pregnant wife Anna, he swears by hearing the hum of the universe as he floated on his back in a brook among the great, Daintree Rainforest near, Port Douglas, tapping into a deep, holy, lost in time when the Dinosaurs roamed there back in the day vibrations. Joshua struggled with summoning enough faithful courage to stop fighting against the unnatural act of breathing out of a fucking snorkeling breathing device, to prevent you from drowning to death, as he showed a spec of manhood and took a mini plunge into the pristine, clear blue waters of the Great Barrier Reef, taking in a Kaleidoscope of God’s most colorful fishes and finest finger painting handy work down under. Similar to when Joshua drove cross country to California his senior year of college for his last semester of school, he didn’t want his time immersed in such awe inspiring, God decorated, mind blowing, soul soothing beauty to end.

Joshua will never forget an encounter he had with an older than dirt car driver on his Honeymoon in Victoria, during their stay at a gorgeous, Victorian Chalet as Joshua relished reading books in their study from the highly readable, English writer, DH Lawrence, who wrote with actual flowy, accessible, expressive felt feeling. Joshua and Anna were off to some vineyard for lunch and the writer driver got a tad huffy, confrontational with him during their short drive, saying in so many words, you’ll never make it as a successful writer, I wrote a couple of novels and I’m driving you around fucking Victoria in a monkey suit to pay my alimony payments as I fight the temptation to drive straight into Mother’s Beach right now, and take the 2 of you love birds with me. But Joshua was a New Yorker, born and raised, and wasn’t going to let any fucking hack Australian dictate what he’d achieve in this world because most Americans don’t even know who Jim Jefferies is, case closed, let alone Jon Safran, the erudite, never been accused of raping his daughter Aussie, alternative, Yeshiva schooled, version of Woody Allen, who Joshua was more impressed with funny man, thought wise, if he had to choose.