Tag: NRA

Shooting The Shit With Jill Biden

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, education, family

Imagine Easter Sunday at the Biden’s Delaware estate this year? First, things get tense for Hunter’s new wife Melissa Cohen when Dr. Jill Biden says, “So today, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus after your people heckled the Romans into crucifying our Messiah to death.”

Melissa Cohen replies, “I don’t give a shit either way Jill. I’m an atheist myself. Still, my father a conservative Jew, would disagree with your messiah premise. He wouldn’t call your hubby putting up fencing around the White House as an incoming symbol of world peace, would you? If Obama wasn’t a secret, gay Muslim, I totally could’ve seen him putting World Peace 2.0 on his gym locker at one of those private gay bathhouse clubs in Chicago to remain anonymous though. My family celebrates the Passover holiday. You know the holiday where we sub IPA’s for giant stale unleavened crackers. Not that most Jews are heavy drinkers compared to our gentile nation, but you get the gist. I know drinking is the least of Hunter’s concerns. Plus, I’m positive despite you being a gentile, you’re capable of recognizing the hilarious irony of your son from a different mother, giving up blow for blow painting. Also, cut the Mother Theresa act Jill. Everyone in Delaware knows Joe had an affair with you when he was still married before the horrific tragic car crash, which you’ve collectively exploited politically for all it’s worth, which doesn’t sound very Christ like to me. Then again, the Crusades happened to get back at the all non-believers such as my people the Jews, despite Christianity not being an official religion back in ancient biblical times during the time of Jesus’s death. Also, I never understood why Christians hate Jews so much, assuming they were Christ Killers or not. First, Jesus was a Jew and gentiles weren’t flocking to see Schindler’s List opening weekend. Second, if Jesus doesn’t get crucified, the Bible part 2 is never written. There’s no record of Jesus ever ascending to heaven, giving his 12 apostles to write his comeback life tale with the promise of eternal life, assuming you acknowledge Jesus as the only self-anointed, bouncer gatekeeper of heaven and king of the Jewish people, despite possessing zero ancestry DNA with King David or King Solomon after him, just saying. How many Jewish friends do you have Jill, being a real doctor and all? But plenty of Jews hurt our people’s image such as Bernie Madoff, Harvey Weinstein, that crystal meth head, Adam Schiff. Trust me, after knowing your son during his druggy years, I know a meth head when I see one. If Adam Schiff’s eyes were any bigger buggier, he’d be John Holmes in Wonderland, assuming his best friend is another scumbag Democratic operative like Ed Buck being charged for manslaughter for getting black homeless escorts overdose on crystal meth in his West Hollywood pad before exchanging their services. Let’s just meet in the middle and agree Adam Schiff is no angel of light or will ever be confused for being a chosen cosmic perfectionist of any kind. So, if I wanted to drop Hunter’s IPHONE into the garbage can outside of Janssen’s Market, love their Filet Mignon Egg Sandwich by the way, with pictures of him putting a gun to my head during some kinky role playing, when I play the computer repairman’s daughter in Wilmington, Delaware. Would the Secret Service keep those pics under wraps for us, or am I blowing your husband’s compromised deep state relationship with the Secret Service and China completely out of proportion? Xi is a good a guy Jill? You know nobody believes that shit Jill, especially the suicide net makers for Apple. Granted, you haven’t taught in years but deliver that line about Xi being a great guy to every mother whose had to quit their jobs to help monitor their kids remoting learning experience, with no burning mask parities in sight, vaccine mandated or not, despite more kids dying of suicide this year than from fucking COVID. And maybe then, I’ll respect your alleged Christian good deed hued nature again babe. At least our baby boy is a boy. So keeping Joe away from any future hair sniffing incidents, is one last thing I need to worry about it. I didn’t marry into the Podesta family for a reason.

Michael Kornbluth

The Hunt for Remote Remorse

by doitalldadyear, posted in entertainment, travel, writing

It’s hard to feel bad for Alec Baldwin when his only deeply felt take away from killing a cinematographer on a film he was producing is victimized aggravation for costing him work. Alec Baldwin calls his agent at CAA, “What do you mean Tarantino doesn’t want me to play a young Victor Vega in Reservoir Dogs Without Remorse? Isn’t there a statue of Woody Allen in Spain still standing? Can’t Woody write me a star vehicle where I play Javier Bardem’s chef Dad who butchers the Spanish language after becoming reunited with my pig son in The Mighty Punta Bitch Dad? Isn’t Marty sick of working with Leo yet? Can’t he jam me into a script with Dinero despite that dumb mook on the View these days looking like Betsy Ross falling apart at the seams? Would Seth Rogan be willing to work with me? I can play a recovering alcoholic who becomes a famed pitch person on the QVC for a new brand of gum to wane your addiction off highly boozy IPA’s, called, Hop-O-Rama Chew. But he gets fired from that job because he shoots off at the mouth too much on air about how craft beer enthusiasts in Brooklyn look like special needs hobbits who should be eligible for 3rd term abortions in New York State. I’ll even do voiceover for Kevin Smith in his woke reimagination of She-He Man. I could play the alt right Skeletor with a MAGA hat on top of my purple hoody like the Grand Dragon of disinformation regarding the downside of pubescent genital mutilation despite Billy regretting his decision after mounting a fat assed Latino girl at the China Club on his 18th birthday, after realizing his missing link to banging old school hip-hop beats of yesteryear when Rum Shaker broke big, is gone baby gone.” Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Bad Boy Soy Boy Strikes Back

by doitalldadyear, posted in art, business, fiction

Once upon a time there was a biracial Korean and Jewish kid from the Riverdale section of the Bronx named Steven Park, who his friends called Bad Boy Soy Boy for unleashing his Nunchucks of fury at a block party on a bunch of black gangbangers who wore the same wife beater, corn rows and cut off jean shorts, looking like they were dressing up for Coolio Appreciation Day, who dared to call him a COIVD chink in his midst ever again, as he cracked one skull in 2 after another without breaking a sweat in a NY Minute. Son of Sam in the seventies was scary no doubt, but the surge in hate crimes against Jews and Asians in the boogie down Bronx Jersey City around the Island of Manhattan were at an all time high with no relief or added protection in sight.

Cops today, were younger, softer, and far less hardcore than their 9/11 predecessors, nobody in the force today has the balls to make on the side like 99 percent of the force in the movie Serpico. Bail was banned in NY, garbage filled the streets, rats grew the size of Lena Dunham during Restaurant Week after challenging Leslie Jones to a Junior’s Cheesecake off. But even these woke large in charge funny woman, couldn’t believe what a scary shithole their cherished concrete jungle of yesterday had become in 4 years flat.

Crazy talk slogans punctured the air such as, “Ban ICE”, because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years. It’s no excuse to mug Chinese grandma in Chinatown, yet the Wuhan made virus, had made New Yorkers at large crazier than ever, placing misplaced faith in a news media hellbent on feeding more unregulated hate and fear into the nation about black men in America being America’s most hunted, despite not one enlightened BLM member encouraging their fellow brothers to just stop resisting arrest, God forbid.

Every day, Bad Boy Soy Boy worked at his parents deli in the South Bronx, despite living in the leafier, more snuggle soft confines, of Riverdale in the Bronx, where abandoned torched, burnt down buildings to salvage a semblance of ROI from the insurance company were less common than a B plus Korean student at Bronx Science.

Bad Boy Soy Boy had to bite his lip at the deli every time some brother would come in there talking endless shit, yelling, “COVID Chink, this, COVID Chink that,”, despite him being fucking half Korean and half Jewish. It didn’t make a difference because cum bucket dumpsters such as Cardi B today were deemed heady, culture enriching, poets from the street, whose gaping, sloppy 3rds snatch couldn’t be beat, allegedly.

But one day Bad Boy Soy Boy, decided enough was enough, so he opened a medicinal speakeasy weed milk bar in Bergen, New Jersey as a front to offer Nunchuck self-defense classes for Asian Americans based in any of the 5 boroughs willing to make the schlep to fight for their life to live out the protracted, rapidly fading American dream with a semblance of peace of mind as they raged, raged against the dying of the light. Dylan Thomas lives, holla, thank very much.

Now, Bad Boy Soy Boy’s Self-Defense Nunchucks Of Fury class, became the number one tourist destination in Bergen history, not that there was stiff competition in this department. But Bad Boy Soy Boy had a college roommate from UPENN who he’d talk to on the phone every day who worked as a rock star chef for a Korean food truck in old city in Philly, known for their Korean eggroll cheesesteak hot pocket breakfast treats that had to invest in a bullet proof vest covered food truck in what was once the only really safe area in Philly outside of center city on Chestnut street. But safe spaces for Asian Americans were now deader than Jeremey Lin’s chances of gracing the cover of Sports Illustrated 7 times in a row again, especially since JR Smith bitched to Knicks management about the golden child Harvard grad who plopped in their lap out of the freaking blue, because he was hogging the Garden spotlight and bike lane all for himself.

Asian Americans including Koreans, Japanese, Chinese, who never bothered to study martial arts, thinking, it wasn’t necessary to learn from 1994 to 2020, were flocking to Bad Boy Soy Boy’s Self-Defense Nunchucks Of Fury class. Bad Boy Soy Boy’s grandfather, Michael Kornbluth was a Holocaust survivor because when all the brown shirt ANTIFA members of their day banned guns, he used his own Nunchucks of fury gifted to him from his Korean father in law, and cracked NAZI skulls hyped on crystal meth all his way to freedom from Nazi persecution in NY to later establish a family of his own with his former reflexology wife therapist as a proud 1st generation deli owner, getting Jewish New Yorkers hooked on Kimchee for more reasonable outs to ever slip their wife the tongue ever again. Both young and old Asian Americans no longer had to live in helpless, paralyzed fear, all thanks to Bad Boy Boy Soy Boy teaching them the infinite beat down possibilities, using the all mighty Nunchuck strikes of fury to ensure they were never fucked with again in the name of the COVID Chink virus or not, because Bad Boy Soy Boy was on a mission from God to prove Bruce Lee’s weapon of choice, is nothing to fuck with.

The End

Michael Kornbluth