Tag: Netflix

Reimagining Cuomo Book Titles

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, entertainment, family

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

Do It All Dad Does China

by doitalldadyear, posted in cooking, fiction, music

Stop spreading disinformation about COVID, it was made in the offices of the Capital Building with China through Zoom.

What major adjustment did the Chinese make post COVID? Didn’t they all wear masks to begin with because the air quality there is more polluted than Michelle Pfeiffer’s womb in Scarface.

Seriously, what major adjustment did the Chinese make post COVID? Hire the Tiger King to manage their new social distance bat petting zoo through Zoom?

The Last Emperor of China was made emperor at 2? Is that in dog years?

When the kid become the last emperor of China at the advanced age of 2, rice farmers muttered in their pre commie censored heads, “I don’t care about the 1 kid policy anymore, if I’m still allowed my monthly ration of Mongolian Barbeque, that includes all the frozen meat packed Lassie I can eat.”

The Dali Lama was already distancing himself from Richard Gere after Sharon Stone’s birthday bash at his crib, when he said, “Those prayer beads didn’t come in red Gere.”

Why is the Delta virus so contagious again? Does it contain the distilled essence of real life patriots from past Trump rally’s of yesteryear? I don’t get it.

But seriously, why is the Delta Virus so contagious again? Is it easily catchable like jungle fever from Pamela Grier retrospectives on IFC for Queen Latifah’s lesbian awakening month?

The Washington Examiner insists all it’s employees wear a mask in the newsroom if they’re not vaccinated . Failing to call out blatant election fraud as the audits roll on, hasn’t made their bullshit detection ability any sharper with their swamp thing siding masks off.

New York City will now require proof of vaccination to dine inside. But your never ending, beyond played out, politized lockdown already destroyed the greatest city on earth and put the Oyster Bar out of business in Grand Central. So at this point, what difference does it make? Like a Jon Hamm donation to pearl necklace Harris for her failed presidential campaign, because Dominion had Mr. Groper’s back regardless, despite his failure to instruct to Hunter to cut out crack, knocking up strippers and creaming into his dead brother’s wife seconds after the cremation ensued.

But the unvaccinated will be allowed to dine outside, harassed by BLM and ANTIFA knowing the unvaccinated resisters are more easily identified to terrorize for the grave offense of sticking up for election integrity laws and for still remaining on Trumpy Poo’s side to, despite him doing less to stop election fraud in advance than ensure Ivanka inherited a shot of his colorful personality through sheer osmosis already.

New York City will now require proof of vaccination to work out at Equinox fitness in Chelsea. I don’t think the fabulous high gay furniture designer is sweating the prospect of catching an itchy esophagus before he goes down on Charlie from accounting in the men’s steam room there either.

Mayor De-Blasio says, “It’s time for vaccine ID mandates. We’ve offered everyone incentive to get the shot in the world, Shake Shack for life, VIP passes to breath on Bruce Springsteen backstage on Broadway through one of Steven Van Zandt’s silk scarves made in France, riding the train on Cardi Bi while waiting for the Lex line to resume it’s normal working business hours again, anyone out there, Mueller, Mueller.

The band Offspring fired their drummer of 14 years because he followed his doctor’s advice and refused to get the vaccine because the potential side effects put him at greater risk considering his pre-existing conditions like being a closeted Trump supporter before the day he allowed Democracy to die under his Tweet topping watch.

Kicking a drummer out of a band who refuses to get the vaccine shot is anti-establishment rock at it’s finest. What does the lead singer of Offspring do for an encore now? Bite off the head of a fake news Chinese Bat to prove non FDA approved vaccines are nothin to fuck with.

In related news Pearl Jam is reported to be playing at Obama’s 60th birthday party at his Martha’s Vineyard’s estate. Will Eddie Vedder blather on about rising sea levels overlooking such pristine oceanfront property. Will he make a plug about global warming despite Al Gore’s speaking career cooling considerably since Pearl Jam socially distanced themselves from Ticketmaster till they couldn’t find a better ticket seller around? Will Eddie Vedder dedicate the song Last Kiss to every Italian Grandma who to give the ghost of her dead husband one last last while dying alone under COVID lockdown arrest because Cuomo couldn’t let all those extra body bags ordered go to waste? Despite all those spacious hospital beds shipped in by Trump that got less touches than a bible at a bath house colony in Provincetown. Will Eddie shy away from singing the song Black, because Obama can’t identify with being a black baller knowing herode the bench an all Asian private school in Hawaii? Eddie Vedder performing the Jeremy song would be done in poor taste, knowing more kids died from suicide than from COVID this past year. Plus, the song loses it’s dramatic oomph knowing Jeremy under remote learning circumstances would’ve gone out with a less of a bang by blowing out his brains on top of his school issued laptop with 13 Reasons on Why on Vinyl playing in the back of his head.

Speilberg dropping by to celebrate Obama’s 60th birthday isn’t the best look for our Jewish people. Obama Be Good only nuke gifted Iran 150 billion on his way out the door to make their economy less reliant on the sale of hair removal creams for the Kardashians.

Interesting fact: If you’ve already gotten the COVID virus, it increases your immunity to fight off charges of fear mongering bullshit like catching an itchy esophagus from a Trump rally retrospective on Newsmax for old times sake.

Can’t you picture George Soros reluctantly watching another huge Trump rally in his one world headquarter palace in Beijing and blurt out loud, “That’s it, get me the Wuhan Lab institute. Time to unleash the Franken Bat on MAGA country once and for all. Is Andy Dick done experimenting with our bat hicky, blood draining treatment yet? With all the blow flushed out his system, I’m positive Apple TV will insure his next film The Adventures Of Tranny Sitting now.”

The Chinese show more blatant disregard for COVID birther stories than free samples of AquaFresh.

Did you know the Great Wall of China is more than 4000 miles long? That’s what Pamela Anderson said.

I’m dropping my kids off at camp and the crossing guard said, “Slow down.” I said, “That’s why Hunter’s dealer said.”

I read the 1st paragraph of 1984 to my 3 kids last night. Daughter asks, “What’s Big Brother daddy?” I say, “A bunch of fake news good will hoodies, Zit Face Zuck included.”

More lockdowns and mask mandates are living, breathing trophies to mark China’s never ending winning streak since the day Democracy died. And the never ending shit show rolls on without a peep from Bruce, who wrote Death To My Hometown. Ain’t that a shame, Fats Domino lives. Thank you very much.



Michael Kornbluth





Double Down Winners

by doitalldadyear, posted in comedy, entertainment, family

In Scottsdale, Arizona waiting for a walk sign with my 3 kids. A guy tire’s of waiting for the sign and crosses the street in a NY minute. I say, “An old school New Yorker spreading his wings.” And a group behind us laughs long time. Double Down Winners, Challah, thank you very much.

Sick of hearing boring, older men complain about my Chatter Teeth Son. Funnier dad, happier baby. Get over it already, blah breathed boomer. Double Down Winners, Challah, Thank you very much.

Chatter Teeth Son sets off the metal detector at the airport, despite being dressed like the Van Halen Angel baby for Easter. I yell, “All Metal Baby.” He was sucking down Scorpion lollipops for breakfast before Ozzy bit off bat heads. Ozzy felt the need to one up All Metal Baby after Winds of Change broke big after the Berlin Wall came down.” Double Down Winners, Challah, thank you very much.

But if you really want to feel forever young, hang out at an Italian Bakery in Sommers, NY on a Friday afternoon. I don’t want to call it the Fountain of Youth, but my number won’t be called for another century compared to their Great Godmother clientele, which gave the atmosphere of depressive hovering death at Walmart a good name. Imagine Kay telling Michael in the Godfather about aborting their Hermaphrodite son. “I killed off your precious Sicilian seed Michael. Forget the dream of any of future Jamie Lee Curtis clones to trade places with an Italian Tony Curtis 2.0 after you ordered a hit on Chaz Bono’s reproductive rights, Michael.”

Son picks up corn holders in front of grandpa and says, “I’m Predator.” Pops gets jealous. I say, “Why aren’t you still laughing dad?” He said, “I’m just tired.” I said, “Tired of what, being an asshole?”

Why is Lebron James in a doc about Ken Griffy Junior? Even Junior knew about personality limitations and stuck to smiling on Wheaties Boxes and Upper Deck Trading Cards, when he wasn’t breaking wind with Pops in the dugout while exuding a more carefree edge in Seattle, pre-Antifa apartheid, because back then a young Junior was more into Fresh Prince than Soundgarden.

I think the real assholes on both sides of the cultural divide are those most liberal in dispersing their weighty opinions, especially when they weren’t solicited in the 1st place. I make a comment about my 11-year-old daughter wanting to become a professional singer who could write her own songs and even pen hit Broadway plays like a female Neil Simon one day. Dad says, “But how can she do that, when she can’t even sing?” I say, “How would you know? You book less face time with your granddaughter than Hunter does with his Baby Mama during Easter on Zoom.” While the stripper baby mama says to her lawyer, “Social distancing my ass, Mr. Groper can sniff Jill’s scarecrow hair during the next egg hunt on the Biden Delaware beachfront estate for a change.”

Only my mom can make me like Putin again. Visting in Arizona for Spring Break. And mom says, “You know, who’s small, Putin.” I said, “Then, why hasn’t Scranton Joe threatened to take him out in the school yard in Siberia yet Ma?” Oh, yeah, Biden is morally compromised because a Ukranian energy company paid his son, Sir Snort A Lot, 50 grand a week in the form of a political kickback to push borscht as the new Kombucha.”

Arizona isn’t off the list all together if Russia decides to spare the Walmart in Scottsdale, Arizona in the event of Nuclear Holocaust. I got the Metalica Black album for 5 bucks for Christ’s sake. If killer deals like that can’t usher a new era of peaceful goodwill toward capitalistic titans of American retail stores, I don’t know what will.

Daughter asks, “Daddy, who’s Moses? I say, ” A stuttering Jew, who came through.”

Son asks, “What does the Pope do? I say, “Play musical chairs with pedophiles.”

United Nation condemnations are more useless than fishnet leggings on Jill Biden.

Their appeal to the greater good is far past their expiration dates and spotty at best.

Give drug addicts credit, they know how to milk the pity bullshit card for all its worth.

Younger brother who just got divorced tells my mom, “He’s spending his time alone watching documentaries on National Parks on Netflix these days?” I said, “Is that what he’s claiming to do in his down time these days ma? I guess that’s how he got the idea of John Stewart running for President of Action Park if the Sierra Club excludes him for never urging Comedy Central to fire his successor for being a serially unfunny, wannabe Paul Mooney in a hoodie.”

More white privilege problems, Son. It’s hard to not feel like the sloppy second son, when your parents don’t think your good enough to drink from the fine crystal for Passover because you used to support Trumpy Poo on your podcast for free. Plus, you refuse to expose your kids to ESPN since all major sports teams mandated the clot shots, supported athletes taking the knee and kicking Nazi destroyers in nuts to protest no good thugs resisting arrest, turning their lives around like Pookie in New Jack City, not.

And claiming Obama’s economy was the one responsible for Dow Jones highs, is like claiming Nino Brown from New Jack City got Pookie off crack and welfare.

How can they make a Michael Jackson musical? Is the King of popping cherries in any scenes with his old Hollywood Hills neighbor Marlon Brandon still in his shrink character from Don Juan Demarco? Brando says, “Just because it happened on the Neverland Ranch, doesn’t mean it never happened Michael.”

The Michael Jackson musical is being staged in the Neil Simon theatre on Broadway no less. Can you a picture of modern-day remake of Lost in Yonkers by Neil Simon commenting on the very staging of this musical in the Neil Simon theatre. Little Jewish kid Jerome the 3rd, says, “Today, Yonkers is black as shit up in here, but the line waiting outside the Neil Simon Theatre to audition for the lead of Michael Jackson, not so much. I’m just curious. If the King of Popping Cherries were still alive, how would he defend himself against all his Neverland accusers on HBO today? “Would The King of Pop say, “All the Beatles royalty points in the world can’t buy me love.”

You can’t be in support of underage sex trafficking if similar to Bob Kraft, you only request happy enders who weren’t yanked off the boat yesterday. Double Downer Winners, Challah. Thank you very much.

Finally, gave up drinking beer last summer. I couldn’t live with myself anymore, spending so much time, hungover, recycling, endless reminders of my lushy littered past, as entire Rocky Marathons on AMC passed me by.

How pathetic is the Electric car Pitch? It’s better for the environment. But COVID 19 masks will take longer to decompose in the Pacific than Nany Denture Breath Pelosi past Easter.

Elon Musk, Gates and Al Gore to a Gastro Pub Bar. Gates orders a Beyond Meat Burger. Gore orders a Klondike Bar and Musk orders, “A Flaming Nazi?” Gen X Bartender says,”
“What’s a Flaming Nazi?” Musk says, “Justin Trudeau on holiday with Klaus Schwab in Davos whenever they hook up with the cast and crew from Killing Zoe after hours for shits and giggles.” Gates said, “I thought a Flaming Nazi was any fake news straight man caught driving a Telsa after the car battery exploded for accelerating from 0 to 60 into the back of a tree trunk next to Eddie Murphy’s tinted out Range Rover in West Hollywood, my bad.”

How do you stop the next pandemic? Use the RICO act and strip George Soros of all assets next time Gates and Dr. Gnocchi urge the Nazi youth round them upper to release the Franken Bat on MAGA country because the Chinese weren’t making enough Yuhan money on NBA ball gags made in China yet? Gotta dream Dave. Carlito’s Way lives, Challah, thank you very much.

I tell my daughter about how Bill Gates has done Ted Talks on the importance of “depopulation.” 10-year-old daughter says, “So, by depopulation, you mean murder.” I say, “One mass media-controlled sheep at time due the COVID 19 jab, that’s correct. If William Blake were alive today to look into Bill Gates soul on acid or not, all Blake would see is infinite darkness. Think of a 4 -eyed black hole drenched in a yellow cashmere sweater made in Wuhan, with glops of vegan mayo stains that’s Devil spawn spewing’s from Colbert after jamming a Howdy Doody up his ass to get in the mood. You should’ve seen the way Colbert drooled over John Podesta on his Late-Night show, which is twice as deprived perverse because those DNC funding walls showcase enough pedo installation artwork to make Marilyn Manson blush.”

I broke my Kosher diet because a Jewish orthodox woman at the Phoenix Airport, sporting a Happy Pesach Hoodie acted repulsed, after I pitched her my well-reviewed, self-published book, The Great American Jew Novel. She said, “I’m on vacation and work in academia.” I said, “But I bet you found the moral strength to ignore your better judgement and vote for Mr. Groper. Despite, a Rabbi calling him a liar for claiming he visited The Tree of Life, after the massacre there when Trumpy Poo was President. ” The same Rabbi adds, “I’ve never met Joe Biden in my life. Does it look I spend much time at Ben & Jerry’s these days? What’s Ben and Jerry’s latest flavor in honor of the oppressed Palestinians granted free healthcare and voting rights in the occupied territory, “Rocky Road To Peace”, “Arafat Was Underrated”, or “YourMamaObama@Gmail.com?”

For Holocaust Remembrance Day, the Squad in Congress called Amy Winehouse a devil horn hiding, parasitical Jew bitch, who exploited the Great Palestinian Songbook for all it was worth. Double Down Winners, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Buckets Of Challahs

by doitalldadyear, posted in poetry, politics, psychology

Edgeless comedy blows.

Reason to forsake Adderall. When you take it long enough in a row, it feels like a burnt-out devil is stuck in your head, intent on stealing your time, soul and brain from its intended form forever.

Yesterday, I sensed a lit agent being a smug prick in declining an offer of representation for my book The Koshertarian Comedian. So, I check his Twitter feed, which includes a retweet about Melania failing at defeating cyberbullying with a screen shot of her husband’s suspended account. So, just to fuck with him back, I email, “Fuck your fake news sincerity. Trump won. But keep thinking Mr. Groper got more votes than Trump or Obama Be Good ever did. Which is like claiming DMX gave up weed for catnip during Lent. DMX lives. Yonker’s is getting black as shit up in here Challah, thank you very much.

If you’re still concerned about catching COVID, then just admit your precious vaccine works less than Jared Kushner does on his tan, when he’s got Ivanka to do whenever she talks dirty to him in Mandarin on his birthday again, resuming her role as Christina Tightcoochie, otherwise known as Jewess Who Swallows. 2 seconds later, Jared Kushner blows a follow-up load for 2 minutes straight into her pearly white face and says, The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming. Hide your borscht soup recipe for Passover or we’re screwed Trumpy Goo.” Can I get a holla for some money blasting Challahs? Killer With A Cause, Challah, thank you very much.

The new mayor of NY consulted the mayor of Chicago, lead maker of blood controlling kits in our country, on how to tackle crime better than the cast of 21 Jump Street without Johnny Depp willing to resume his FBI informant role in Donnie Brosco Does BLM Busts The Most for anything less than 50 million in bitcoin and all the cases of Chateau Margaux Keith Richards can drink.

How can the mayor of NY tackle crime better? Why not, condemn Jussie Smollett for trying to incite a race war on Obama Be Good’s behalf and say to the NY media, “Deplorable is anyone who’s glad Jussie Smollett took a shot.”  At least it’s a start.

What’s a woman? 2 tits, a hole and a heartbeat, right? Next question. Nancy Denture Breath Pelosi needs a working heart for an actual heart transplant, so she’s off the to do list, Challah. Thank you very much.

What’s the science behind exempting the Mets 1st baseman from getting the clot shot over 1st responders who ran into the Second Tower without sweating the prospecting of catching an itchy esophagus? Gold Gloves matter most.

What’s the science behind discharging Marines who refuse to take the clot shot? Fuck Face Fauci is my friend, no matter what. Who cares if the DOD database says COVID vaccine shots cause a 300 increase in miscarriages? Court packing the Supreme Court with pizza partying throwing pedophile sympathizers means those kids would’ve been in breathing distance of early release child predators anyway.

The Don’t Say Gay bill will kill kids? Yeah, like Rolling Stone Magazine refraining from calling Michael Jackson gay killed off his age of innocence ruining terror like a smooth criminal. What would Michael Jackson say in his defense against all his Never Land accusers today Rolling Stone? All the Beatles royalty points in the world can’t buy me love.

Am I the only one who doesn’t think it’s kosher for the kindergarten teacher in Billy Madison to be teaching my kids about masturbation just yet? What can Veronica Vaughn add to that conversation that Do It All Dad can’t?  When your Pete Sampras, you can pick out any ball girl you like. And you don’t have to play with yourself anymore like you do with your GI-Joe figures.

In Kentucky they offer self-pleasure workshops for toddlers, which is fitting I guess, when finger food down there is considered anything that tastes like your cousin’s panties. Those same self-pleasure workshops offer hands on lessons on simulating masturbation called Giving Up Blow For Blow Painting to get off instead by Hunter Biden, AKA Sir Snort A Lot, whose done hearing last call from the bathroom stall at Molly Malone’s while his biker bud extras from the Sons of Anarchy yell, “Where’s Hunter? Who else is going to pay for this shit?”

My daughter has ruined Jello for me by saying, “It’s made of horse bones daddy.” So, I got back at and her said, “Linzer Tart cookies are made out of Unicorn Periods.”

It’s hard to keep the Tooth Fairy story alive when you blank on putting money under your daughter’s pillow again. Daughter says, “Daddy, is the Tooth Fairy even real? I say, “The Rock slept in for a change alright.”

Why would my mom think my brother’s ex-wife would return her diamond engagement ring after he expunged her inner light forever? That’s like giving a girl HIV unintentionally but expecting her to return the Lexington Steel replica dildo used to fuck her over and help seal the deal with.

Just learned that Zelensky had his 2 kids baptized. So, calling Zelensky Jewish is like calling Jihadi John Jewish, just saying. Which reminds me, ISIS aren’t good recruiters. They just hit on lonely virgins on What’s App, who wish their phones blew up. And a 2-state solution is inconceivable if the Muslim Brotherhood in the struggle keep fucking. Also, why are Jihadists in general so into deflowering virgins? Don’t these divine powered angels of light have enough bloods on their hands already?

My mom focuses way too much on my 11-year-old daughter’s legs, who go on for miles and miles. Granted, her hips already hit the ceiling. Still, doing my best Trump impersonation while judging my daughter’s statuesque figure in the making feels more off wrong than Kosher right for me but I’ll try anyway.  She’s Miss New York material for sure mom. So, clap your hands for the next Miss America but Trump keep your hands up where I see them. All of a sudden, I feel like I’m conducting a Zoom call with Jefferey Toobin at CNN for Drag Queen Reading Hour Appreciation Day.

I’m opposed to Drag Queen Reading hour, because fluorescent library lights don’t look flattering on anybody, especially on a poor man’s Marilyn Manson impersonator.

Why should I side with my great Aunt who fired her maid of 20 years for refusing to wear mask while cleaning her toilets? I’d prefer to take the maid out to lunch at Russ & Daughters and offer her all the smoked salmon platters she wants for sticking to her guns.

You know gas is expensive when 10 dollars isn’t enough to last you through smoking a half a pinner.

People Magazine is blaming blood clots on unhealthy diets now. Then, why is Raphael Nadal complaining of sudden chest pains? He abstains from gluten and from following the herd mentality. Wait a minute, that’s Djokovic, my bad.

How can you say sentences for child rapists are too harsh? 80 percent of the prison population wouldn’t be in there if they weren’t fucked over by some parental figure in one capacity or another. The arc of justice has gone straight to hell if Americans defend any Supreme Court Justice nominee pick who plays the opposition research Pete Townshend card while defending hand slapping punishment against pedophilia, when Joe from Scranton clicked on Soapybottomsnothingtoseehereatmoveon.org. Alex Jones lives, Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Funny Zone Day

by doitalldadyear, posted in music, sports, technology

Would Peloton instructor Jess King blame the clot shot if one of her tits froze during one of her summertime rides to get jiggy with it? After talking to her left tit, during a live ride of course.

“Why aren’t you moving Cabbage Patch Splat? Shit, this ride is live, I totally forgot. Yeah, so what Peloton, I call my left tit Cabbage Patch Splat. When you get paid 300 grand to pretend your comments about my bedazzled bicycle pants matter, I’ll give a shit about your designated Indian name pronouns used to address my lesbian rocker online like Strapped With Vape Cartridges, Dead Fish Flopping After 3 Hour Workdays or Doxes With Twitter Twat Wolves. Shit, Eric Clapton wasn’t really bullshitting us when he went on Instagram and claimed how his 2nd booster shot made his playing hands strung by the all mighty temporarily paralyzed almost immediately after. What, I used to bang an A&R rep for Island Records when I used to study Trance Gender Dance Studies at Borough Community College. My thesis was, “Libra Lesbians who adhere to a Pescatarian puss diet are finger licking good. Wait a minute, I can feel Cabbage Patch Splat get jiggy with it again. Thank God, I fake news believe in you again Lord. And FYI Peloton nation, my power couple lesbo baby is due in October. So, don’t expect me to me care about your upcoming training for the New York City Marathon while I’m too busy planning our 1st kid’s name together during my 2-week paid maternity time off, which is more than you make you in a year MAGA mom selling DeSantis Bobble Head Dolls on Etsy. And it’s don’t say gay, it’s happiest place on earth day, Deplorable Mom Bombing. The name Moderna is very modern, sheik sounding and full of social good, don’t you think? My Indy rock wife wants to go all in on high-end hipster cheek and name our foreign imported seed Polly Fume Blanc, she’s Frech Polynesian, in case you’re not following my killer clutch smoker flow. We’re going on a second honeymoon in Bora, Bora after I pump out this asinine Alabatros already. It was my wife’s idea, not mine. She doesn’t live in Austin Texas anymore because of the no abortion thing. Before it was Kosher living there, because the city of Austin still covers the cost health insurance for working musicians still living there like Gary Clark Junior who takes on the era of Trump Era Racism in the song, “This Land”, because prison reform for gang bangers and no bail laws, post-George Floyed riots, regardless of them resisting arrest or not or Lebron ever getting called for traveling is so oppressive. What, I was raised in a red state like Oklahoma, why else do you think I’m trying to piss off my Oil Rigger Manager Dad on purpose, now turned Solar Pannel Salesman/Caterer for Horse De Vores and Bugs on Bill Gate’s placenta Smoothie farm retreat next to a nearby military base that just housed a wrap up party for Tulsa King starring Sylvester Stallone this Fall, which reminds me. That A& R boyfriend for Island Records who turned me on to Jamaican Beef Patties for bit because he told me that all the pineapple smoothies he drank, would offset his greasy baster tip, also told me that 4/20, the national pot smoking holiday, because it grew wild around King Solomon’s grave man, is also on Hitler’s birthday. Tuff Gong Junior said, “Now, puffing to Bob on Tuff Gong, never felt so wrong. I was bummed to. I mean, the last time I felt this violently hosed was when I learned how Sly Stallone snuck Mel Gibson in Expendables 3. What, I’m half Jewish to. I thought my squeaky annoying voice, borderline okay-ness with working in New York and balloon size breast implants made in Miami were dead giveaways, you Jess Land hater hicks who call me a raver pig who stepped in glittered shit. I’ll dox your ass in a NY Minute if you make fun of my IVF kid like that, try me, homo hater nation. I’m a raver pig who stepped in glitter laced shit you say. I wouldn’t have been let near any aerobics instructor acceleration class in the eighties because it looks like my ass swallowed up Jane Fonda’s extended family down south on Ted Turner’s side. But Peloton is a judge free zone you, glitter hating motherfuckers. And I’m not married to giving a shit about your PowerPoint presentations any more than your hipster hobbit homo, Long Island hack breath husband is. Will you still love me tomorrow, Peloton? A red state reared Jewish Lesbo sooner from Oklahoma who identifies more with going down on premium, fast lane puss on Pelton Mats on top of Tapestries made in Paris, than housing those snooze feast fur balls in my rent-controlled apartment on the Upper West Side next door to Carole King. Because I’m a killer clutch smoker and you’re not.”

Who knew that off the list Jess had so much to get off her chest.

Killer Clutch Smoker lives, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Wow Show

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, poetry, writing

I don’t think Justin Trudeau is Castro’s love child. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he used that pickup line on a young Barack Obama while in town to visit a local Chicago Bathhouse during Arafat Appreciation Month. Justin inches closer to Barack’s towel. “You know I’m Castro’s love child, right? It’s easier to believe without my candy-striped socks on in here. If you ever want to downplay your Bathhouse boners, I could hook you up with a Beard, if you’re ever serious about running for political office one day. Personally, I’m into the more manly looking she-he’s that could pass for a Michael with no makeup on to.” Barack says, “Relax Frenchie, you had me at Castro’s love child.” Wow Show, wows on. Joan lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Have you ever done a Google search for George Soros’s wife? You might as well Google Christina Tightcoochie. I don’t know why I expected her to be some old hag in an 8-thousand-dollar leather jacket that I saw in a local Hardware store in Katonah, NY while shopping for a campfire lighter with the easy to press button that my son Holy Lighter could use to light the Shabbos Candles with this Friday. Chances are, she’d just outsource gas chamber shower heads for Holocaust Remembrance Day to some out of work Proud Boys for hire instead.

Have you ever taken your kid to a 4 Car Garage Party in the suburbs before, that’s next door to Richard Gere’s pad in Northern Westchester County? You’re better off then, because in the presence of such towering wealth, I felt smaller than Kevin Hart around Eddie Murphy’s film library, which doesn’t make me a hater, just a small on laughs spectator. When I picked my daughter up from the party, Richard Gere made a cameo appearance and said hello to the birthday gal. I yell, “Those beads didn’t come in red Gere.” Wow Show wows on, Challah. Thank you very much.

The store made mozzarella at DeCicco, and Son’s is so scrumptious good, Michael Corleone would’ve divested its family interest in the Olive Oil business and casinos in Lake Tahoe if God promised to give Kay a pair of those Mozzarella tits versus a kid. Although, I don’t think Michael would be all hands-on deck about fathering a hermaphrodite after Kay’s Ultrasound. Kay gets the abortion anyway, just to fuck with Michael.

“Fuck your sacred Sicilian seed, I got an abortion Michael. But how would a Hermaphrodite as the head of the 5 families even work? Would his minions kneel down to kiss his cock ring pierced through she-he’s clit, or just be expected to show love by pinning the Hermaphrodite’s latest Gender Fluid Pink Ziti recipe post on Pinterest?

I don’t like actors playing dress up Nazi anymore. It rubs me the wrong way like my father-in-law playing Mel Gibson’s agent. You bet your ass Mel Gibson is still A List. Who cares if his mug is nowhere near the movie poster for Father Stu? You want an actor passionate about playing an easily triggered Alcoholic, you got it. “What do you mean I was speeding officer? Fucking Knish breath, my Japanese investors for Passion Of ANTIFA, can’t build me bullet train for the ADL fast enough.” Wow show wows on, Challah. Thank you very much.

But back to actors playing dress up Nazi. When I was 5, I knew that wearing a Swastika armband made by my friend Jason Metrakos was wrong, during a game of World War 2 during Recess once. Now, realizing, the Swastika looks like 2 stick figures doing a 69 on a Seesaw on some high grade, government issued Crystal Meth. Back then, I distinctly remember ripping the Swastika armband made from loose leaf paper and a number 2 pencil with extreme disgust in the sandbox like being forced to go down on Minnesota rep, Baby Face Omar gonna work it out on Yom Kippur to keep my hunger pangs at bay, while yelling, “I don’t play for your side. What about Jewish pride? Who do you think I am, George Soros’s love child?”  Wow Show wows on, Challah. Shana Tova. Thanks Lord, for heart gladdening humor come rain or shine, very, very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Next Level Sketchy

by doitalldadyear, posted in psychology, sports, writing

Why do I feel scuzzy for watching the Malice in the Palace doc on Netflix?

Outside, of realizing that I started chasing laughs 18 years ago on the open mike floor of the Rainbow Room on the Sunset Strip no less and have nothing to show for it outside of a bomb Faconnable leather jacket after getting my TV writing break with Vh1 Classic 7 years ago on America’s Hard 100.

I feel like I debased myself by chucking my moral stance on insisting I tell all modern NBA to go woke itself by listening to my brother’s recommendation to watch it, when he says. “Yoh, bro, the NBA isn’t political, they don’t take the knee anymore.” I say, “They painted Thugs Lives Matter Most on NBA hardwood courts throughout the nation for 2 years straight asshole, after Lebron yelled at his teammates for standing up for the national anthem since the league exists as a safe space for his rapidly punctured ego. I know, guaranteed money in the NBA despite 20 personal days off becoming the new normal these days despite never having to develop a reliable hook shot with your left is so oppressive.”

The fight only happened because a fan chucked a cup of beer on Ron Artest. He was chilling in the scorer’s table in a reclining position. Ron looked like he could use a frosty beverage after his scuffle with Ben Wallace that was a result of his semi-rough foul with 2 minutes left in a game and a 12-point lead in their favor. Fucking Stephen Jackson, the voice of reason, Mr. Ride or Die, I was defending my brother Ron. From what, a noogie headlock in the stands from an out of work mechanic who worked as extra in Gung Ho? Instead of throwing on his thinking cap while educating himself on Hitler after his boy Farrakhan, sprayed Elie Wiesel’s Twitter feed with Termite Emoji from dawn till night.

So, Reggie Miller didn’t win a championship, boo-hoo. Neither did Patrick Ewing and the only other semi-reliable scoring options on that team was a highly streaky, unproven John Starks who wasn’t a high school phenom drafted to play in the pros like the faultless Jermaine Oneil was. Reggie says, “If Jermanine didn’t slip, he would’ve killed that guy he sucker-slide-punched.” Because Jermanie O’Neil was on the right side of justice. That dude who just came off the floor before being sucker slided punched didn’t throw any 1st punches at Jermaine O’Neil. And stop acting like being sprayed with foamy beer is worse than being pelted by batteries by Bleacher Creatures in the old Yankee Stadium, before the house that Gentrification built was built. Well, if Bob Costas called us thugs, they’re really out to get my money. What did Jermaine Oneil want Bob Costas to say instead? Bob Cousey wouldn’t let his daughter date Stephen Jackson if his 6 rings depended on it. Ron Artest let his anxiety about beer pong spillage turn him into a raving, wronged lunatic like the rap video ho that’s get sprayed down with Old E in the video Gin and Juice. Ron Artest attacking fans in attendance is a punk ass, next level sketchy move like Nas and his boys stomping on Little Nas at the Source Awards after party for failing to give him lip service after exploiting his canonized rap name for all it was worth.

So, David Stern, suspended Ron Artest for the season. It forced Ron to dig deep, change his name and win a championship with the Lakers, good. Queensbridge represent. And how dare the original gangster David Stern, who made the NBA what it is today, suspend Stephen Jackson and Jermaine Oneil for 25 games without pay. But Hockey players fight all the time Jermaine. Yeah, amongst themselves. Plus, they don’t manage to slip while punching and they’re on the fucking ice player. And a sucker punch is a low class, next level sketchy behavior, which you’re guilty of Jermaine. You can spin it all you want, but next level sketchy behavior becomes thuggish, when you throw the 1st punch at a fan who comes up to your knee when he’s not looking, when you could’ve killed him if you didn’t slip on Ben Wallace’s headband sweat in the process. If that it isn’t excessively violent, uncalled for, behavior, then I’m just a sheltered suburban white boy who only supports Janice kicking the shit of any soccer mom who encourages her Stepford Wive seed to trip up Bobby’s daughter in the presence of Janice Soprano.

And what documentary is only an hour? It’s my fault for giving the doc a serious, contemplative look as if the unseen camera angle footage was going to reveal who the 3rd gunman was who killed Kennedy. I only wish David Stern was the District Attorney of any Democrat run hellhole these days such as Philly, New York, LA, Seattle, Portland, San Fran, Chicago, that’s closing freaking Starbucks and 7/11’s left and right because they can’t protect their employees from more thuggish attacks because looting Slurpee money is poetic justice. Hurry up and buy that line of bullshit, honky ass motherfuckers. Forget the violent crime committed against Asians on Subways on Fulton Street in Manhattan because Jeremy Lin hogged the bike lane all to himself, which pissed off JR Smith royally back in the day to. I don’t care about the tattoos, or shitty rap music in proliferation today. I just care about normalizing and accepting thuggish behavior, which is uncalled for, encouraged, enabled violence by so called activists that the media today gives a pass to, especially after the past summer of love 2 billion dollars’ worth of damage later, countless lives lost, over bullshit narratives such as Hands Up Don’t Shoot, and Thugs Lives matter most. Without consequence, laws, and rules, thuggish behavior is not only encouraged and accepted but proliferated to the point of complete anarchy, which is why gun violence especially among inner city youth and innocence bystanders is more out of control than Jill Biden’s hair on any given day. Shit, I’d look 24/7 disheveled, frazzled if was on 24/7 pill wet nurse detail for President Poppy Pants.

But Lebron, King of the Persecution complex says, “Boston is the most racist city.” Doesn’t Boston have the most affirmative action programs in place of higher education? Doesn’t Boston have a host successful charter schools in place? Hasn’t Boston completely decriminalized weed? Doesn’t Boston have Pronvincetown nearby, which has been a money in the bank, gay haven for all colors, sizes and shapes of dick since the dawn of time? Who never dared charge James Baldwin for the crime of boring everybody to sleep despite all the poppers in the universe jammed up your rectum to keep you up for more punch free, pontificating prose otherwise? Isn’t Big Papi, being a Dominican Republic legend, revered in Boston? Which makes him black enough to brush up against Joe Biden’s leg hair back in the day in Mr. Groper’s yes. Manny Rameriz, Pedro Martinez all loved playing in such a racist city Lebron. Shit, even Johnny Damon looks borderline Asian. Robert Parish was blacker than Dee Brown’s 45-inch vertical jump. If a black dude played for the Boston Bruins and broke Cam Neely’s single season, Hat Trick record, I’m sure the locals wouldn’t be running him out of town with pitchforks in hand. Nick Dipaolo, standup up great, is always referencing his black comedian friends, total racist I know, for making fun of Seinfeld for being clueless about Cosby being a druggy planting rapist for 4 decades straight. Where were your powers of observation then Jerry? Next level sketchy, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Too Funny To Fail

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, entertainment, fiction

I don’t like Kyle Rittenhouse anymore. Now, he’s down with Thug Lives Matters Most? Defending Dad’s store from getting looted and burned to the ground with an AR-15 in hand shoots that fake news placation to smithereens. Does he support resisting arrest? Does he support 2 billion worth of property damage during the past summer of love? Does he support Cops letting ANTIFA and BLM led riot mobs wreck any facade left behind cops existing to protect and serve anything but their precious pensions anymore? Does Kyle support the good cops who contributed to his bail fund? Who can’t find work unless they service truck drivers cruising down to Florida, with the hope of scoring a security guard job at Costco during the peak holiday season? Kyle Rittenhouse doesn’t like to be associated with lawyer Lin Wood, so he’ll receive less hate speech spewing’s about him on the View? Lin Wood only scored Nick Sandman a huge defamation lawsuit payday from CNN for trying to paint him as the second coming of Dances with David Duke. I don’t think Kyle Rittenhouse should’ve been on trial for acting in self-defense. Still, I wouldn’t exude a smug smile because the Matt Gaetz offered you an internship on Captial Hill since the day Democracy died without a whimper from the Republican righting side.

I wish Adam Sandler was more divisive. His Hanukkah song needs to be updated to make it less of a safe space for gentiles. The Golden Jew needs to downplay his cozy relationship with Obama running Netflix and replace the verse, “OJ, definitely not a Jew, with Linda Sarsour, definitely not a fan. And if that funny man assertion makes me alt-right, then I’m alright with it.”

If Adam Sandler went after Obama’s basketball game alone on his next Netflix song and joke special, I’d get my wife pregnant by accident again and name the kid Adam Sandler Kornbluth instead of Zevon Zappa Kornbluth. All Sandler has to say in a made-up conversation with Chris Rock on stage is, “Hey Chris, if Obama is such a baller, then why did he ride the bench at an all-Asian private school in Hawaii? And if Obama isn’t a radical jihadist enabler of the most despicable order, then why did he nuke gift Iran 1.5 billion dollars in the still of the night in unmarked bills as he slithered out the White House door on to George Clooney’s Banana Boat Team in St. Barts, only feel to like second Banana after Jay Z arrived? That’s right, Obama Be Good, gave all that untraceable terror money to create overseas manufacturing jobs for Build a Bear, to make the Iranian economy less reliant on the sale of hair removal cream for the Kardashians.”

Bruce Jenner wasn’t asexual when he was married to Kris Jenner. Although, I’m positive Bruce stayed harder longer after he pushed Krish to cut her short to look more like a dolled-up Ralph Macchio.

History of loser lamentation. Alien spawned, Christan baby cannibal loving Jews stabbed Weimar Republic loyalists in the back with their diamond encrusted pitchforks by using Uri Geller forms of fork bending mind control on the newly in charge democratic government to sign a peace treaty against their best interests despite losers in war having no fucking leverage to dictate more favorable terms otherwise, Kraut breaths. In the end, Germany lost some farmland that a location scout for Inglorious Bastards couldn’t even find using Waze anyway. 2 million Germans die after they decide to team up with Austria and Belgium against the big 3 England, Russia and Italy yet they expected to be a fair match against mafia bred Italian muscle, descendants of Drago and Brits who had nothing to lose in war except waking up to the dreaded prospect of cursing their wench wives for birthing such pasty, mole maligned kids after the United States of America came in as the ultimate Road Warrior tag team from the more hardcore southern WCW circuit to apply the final power slam on fake news assertions behind a superior superpower worth envying of any kind. But the Germans are proud people. The Germans are moronic people after they exterminated all the smarter Jews. What has Germany contributed the world since World War 2? Besides, 5-week rave paid maternity leave? But banking is a religion in Germany? Banking is a religion in Switzerland to. That doesn’t make the national embrace of gold tooth hording Gnomes for all their worth any less deflective creepy. Gnomes look like Santa’s dumpy, druggy trust fund babies who managed to survive after they eventually got cut off because they’re old enough now to collect Social Security. Hitler got his panties in a bunch because Germany had to pay war reparations which were beyond payable. And they call the chosen people monopolistic, greedy loot sack hoarder whores. Also, when you perpetuate a war resulting in 10 million lives lost that you ultimately lost, don’t expect free Starbucks gift cards for life. But the Germans are prideful people. Why? Any kid from El Salvador can shine my Ecco shoes with far greater polished precision. Plus, aren’t all German men uncircumcised? What’s respectable about an ant eater schlong? I don’t care how big your petrified pig in a blanket is. Last, none of World War 1 was fought on German land. So, the least mother Germany could do was pay some dead dad littering fines in Italy who gave the world opera, Leonardo Da Vinci and Sophia Loren’s luscious lobes of perfection, which I’ll take over the nerve pinching edgy film score to Run Lola Run any day of the week. Losers walk with a hunch of shame for a reason you bratwurst bitches. 400 thousand Americans died during World War 2 by the way. So, when you willingly watch the NFL today, understand you’re supporting players who take the knee who are cool with kicking Nazi destroyers in the nuts, again and again.

Succession on HBO jumped the shark after Murdoch’s daughter used the expression burning Koran’s. Like any sane person would burn the Pedophile Guide for Dummies since cartoons of Muhammad were deemed permanent no go-zones since French cartoonist Charlie Hebdo got canceled from breathing prematurely.

Wikipedia is so Fascist favoring. Root cause for the Spanish Inquisition, stupid stubborn Jews. Cause of the Holocaust, pinko, leftist Jews who dared to charge Germany interest 10 million lives lost later because they failed to prove why Aryan’s are superior organizer planners of risky world war. French Revolution, overblown reaction to high taxes and the inflated cost of cheese since the horn dog King starting hogging up all the Brie for in Northeast France for lube in marathon long gang bang sessions in Versailles because Nostradamus predicted the rise of sodomy in powdered wigs during France’s post Trans topping period. Nostradamus predicted that one day Versailles would become the perfect romantic getaway from the plague and anal stimulation starvation.

You know you’re not 100 percent gay when you get increasingly aroused from a teenage girl double fist a gentle caressed veggie burrito into her mouth without chomping down on it with fangy fearsomeness in the process. Plus, you’re not feeling 100 percent gay, when the girl at the Kosher butcher greets you with your full name after you gave her your business card prior, only to pronounce at the Kosher Buther in front of her, loud and proud, “I love how I’m up in your cranium already.” Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Waste Of Height

by doitalldadyear, posted in art, blogging, books

Once upon a time there was a Giant who lived in a tiny village called, Humungous Falls in Northern Westchester County, who never really fit in, despite owning a popular deli called Foot Long The Giant, which is what all the local lumberjack giants frequented every day, before chopping down more trees later used for bookshelves for their hobbit hipster southern neighbors in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Every day, the Lumberjacks would taunt Foot Long The Giant, calling him a waste of height for wasting his life making sandwiches for his fellow giants, when he could’ve just hired a bunch of Hipster Hobbits to perform the job instead. Ever day, they’d accuse of him being soft, for shying away from more hardcore forms of manual labor involving chopping down trees from dawn to sunset. One day, an 8-year-old aspiring professional food writer hobbit from Bushwick known as Hardcore Hunga, wanted to do profile for The Bushwick Post on Footlong The Giant, considering his legacy for making the best foot long heroes in New York, which were totally worth the schlep from Bushwick, assuming, you didn’t get too freaked out about getting stomped to death by a Giant Lumberjack by mistake on his lunchbreak. So one day, Hardcore Hunga fakes a tummy ache, ditches out on school, and flies his pet dragon to Humungous Falls to meet Foot Long The Giant face to face, praying none of the local giant lumberjacks sneeze in his general direction, which could send him flying all the way to Stink A Lot Jersey, where all the shitty smelling swamp creatures roam.

Footlong The Giant, descended from a land of giants who grew up to their full height out of Mother Giant’s womb, expected to get working from day one, being denied any sustained age of sheltered innocence from the real world of a grinding worker existence till their last dying breath. Mother Giant finally banged out her last giant, and with no female giants to procreate with, making these remaining giants the last of their kind, who normally started dropping like flies at a hard 40. So these lumberjack giants barely slept, and dedicated their walking life, to chopping more wood and tearing Foot Long The Giant down to size, for thinking he was better than them for being an artisan sandwich maker instead, when they weren’t getting wasted off Stouts, Porters and Barley Wine, which they were paid in from their Hobbit Hipster clients in Bushwick while competing in humungous cannon ball contents throughout Humungous Falls after work to blow up some much needed steam.  They also sold wood for precious gems to local Waterfall dwelling Nymphs, who made enormous bed structures, which always broke down and needed repairing for Sleeping Giants Are Us.   

Today, wasn’t any ordinary day in the life of Footlong The Giant, because today he turned the big 40, but as usual had nobody to celebrate it with, that is until the best looking, biggest hearted, funniest hobbit from Bushwick graced The Footlong The Giant Deli with a tape recorder in hand to conduct a career launching interview with the greatest hero maker the empire state has ever known.

Footlong The Giant gets ready to blow out 40 lit candles that go down in a straight line along his longest, star hero creation yet, a 40-foot hero that rests on a giant bench table that reaches from one side of the deli to the other. Footlong The Giant turns off the lights in the store and braces himself to take a depressingly long deep breath to make a 40th birthday wish, thinking, this might be his last and says, “Just once, I don’t want to feel like a waste of height anymore.” Then, as Footlong Giant opens his mouth to blow out the entire row of candles on his 40-foot-long cheese steak sub topped with Italian cherry peppers, lined with mayo, and semi-sharp provolone, he hears a knock on the door, which startles him a tad, because it was already way past lunch hour and was normally used to spending this time in the store to get the chicken parm stains off the wall after the standard lunch hour rush from the sloppiest eating lumberjacks who ever lived.

Hardcore Hunga knocks on the door again but peaks inside the window this time to see if anyone was inside, noticing a gorgeous flickering lighting of candles, thinking, he walked into a Death Memorial Giant Service, knowing the giants of Humungous Falls were a dying breed and dropping like termite infested Totem Poles these days. Footlong The Giant opens the door, not noticing Hardcore Hunga, who’s a solid 4 foot 2. Footlong The Giant says to himself, “I must be hearing things in my old age.” Hardcore Hunga, still holding his baby dragon on a leash instructs Dragon Lungs to blow a fire ball that nearly misses Footlong The Giant’s head. Footlong The Giant looks down and finally notices Hardcore Hunga and his trusted, always reliable companion, Dragon Lungs. Hardcore Hunga starts pitching, “Footlong The Giant, I’m Hardcore Hunga, I came all the way from Bushwick to interview a living hero maker legend.” Footlong The Giant laughs hard and long, blowing Hardcore Hunga Hobbit off his feet yet Dragon Lungs puts on the brakes to make sure he doesn’t get blown away into the wilderness, by wrapping his leash around Hard Hunga in midflight before slamming him to the ground to start wrapping him up as if he were roping a calf at a Texan rodeo. Footlong The Giant feels bad and invites Hardcore Hunga Hobbit and his pet dragon, Iron Lungs into his store yet totally forgets about never blowing out his row of 40 candles. Hardcore Hunga was smarter than your average bear, so he realized almost immediately, that he just crashed Footlong The Giant’s lonely heart, birthday celebration if you want to call it that. Hardcore Hunga Hobbit does his best to cheer up the sad hearted giant and says, “Happy Birthday Footlong The Giant, this looks like your greatest hero creation yet. You really are a living legend for a reason.” As Hardcore Hunga examines the scrumptious cheesesteak hero bursting with over the top, dynamite flavor, draped in glistening creamy white provolone that’s hugging on to the sesame loaded Italian loaf from end to the other for dear life and counts 40 candles in total in the process, which fills his hobbit heart with extreme sadness, knowing 40 is normally a death sentence for all giants who hail from Humungous Falls.  

Hardcore Hunga encourages Footlong The Giant to blow out his candles and make a wish already and says, “Make a wish and blow out the candles, Footlong The Giant. Wait a minute, one the candles went out already. Dragon Lungs do you mind? Dragon lungs blasts a stream of fire which lights the unlit candle on the end with laser sharp precision, which puts a big smile on Footlong The Giant’s face. Footlong The Giant wants to return the good, favored cheer from his kind, loving guests and gives them a birthday surprise to remember. Footlong The Giant turns his bum toward the 40 foot hero, lifts up his right leg and rips a humungous fart, which blows a gusty jet steam of sweaty, leg flapping, foul mist, which blows out all 40 candles in one swoop. Hardcore Hunga and Dragon Lungs fall down this time from laughing uncontrollably, while holding their noses in the process.  Footlong The Giant shoots off a smile that could light up a youth hostel with no Wi-Fi during the next Chinese rat planted Plague.

Footlong The Giant turns on the light in his deli and says, “Let’s eat.”  Footlong The Giant cuts off a four-foot 2 hero and serves it to his new friend Hardcore Hunga, who conducts a lengthy interview till they all finish the 40 foot hero together, Dragon Lungs included. After the story about Footlong The Giant got published in the Bushwick Post, New York state declared Footlong The Giant Deli a cherished, historical site, especially now that all his Lumberjack clientele dropped dead the next day after turning 40 themselves. Footlong The Giant no longer felt like a waste of height since his glorious friendship with Hardcore Hunga Hobbit began, who made him feel like the biggest star in the universe. After all the lumberjack giants drooped dead throughout Humungous Falls, Footlong The Giant moved to Bushwick with Hardcore Hunga Hobbit and opened a local deli, specializing in much smaller portions of course, when they weren’t building snow cones as big as skyscrapers every year for Hardcore Hunga’s birthday in February, the day before Valentine’s Day, which the entire village of hobbits licked up till they all became mostly brain freeze dead, proving how the biggest hearts come in all sizes and packages.

The End

Michael Kornbluth