Chapter 39 Parasites and Do It All Moms

 

 

Chapter 39

The Picnic Basket Entrepreneur

 

Joshua adored adventures with just his 3 kids without mama like the time they braved through the pushing through the more than expected runny current within the water hole in Woodstock, NY because it brought them closer together as a scrappy, fearless, home team on the road. Since baby Samuel was born, Joshua’s lucky number 3 was born 3 years ago, he was accustomed to going on many weekend adventures with his 3 kids because mama normally worked the evening till morning shit as nurse on a Friday night, leaving plenty of Saturday afternoons open to get creative with their time, give daddy’s brain a rest from making the universe laugh and seek out fun filled experiences, that Mama would feel excluded from and sulk a result, running their collective good time such as tackle soccer, trips to the driving range or venture into Central Park to throw the their new Beamo, around the Great Lawn in Central Park, only to realize it was more a glamorized, unkempt, semi-sprawling putting green.

Joshua loved to read stuff Mama would never read to hear kids on his ordained day rest every Saturday, such the book, The Joy of Yiddish, an dictionary with infinite examples of jokes to explain the depth and variety of this expressive, human condition of all forms encompassing language, finding a way to seep its way into Hollywood and modern culture at the large such as the word schlep.  Joshua’s in-laws lived in Delaware, which was closer than his parents, retired in Scottsdale, Arizona. Still, it was impossible for Joshua to not derive a burst of Do It All Dad Jewish pride, when the subject of taking a trip to Delaware was broached for Memorial Day weekend, before his 9 year old daughter Matilda, says, “Delaware is such a schlep daddy.”

There wasn’t one Friday night now, where Joshua wasn’t thrilled to spend it with his 3 favorite people in the universe, his cherished children, Matilda, Arthur and Samuel, who lived to spend quality time with daddy with mama at work, so they can do the Shabbat prayers together over the Challah, partake in space alien colonized synagogue drawing contents soon after, before the dance off to the Greatest Hits of the Beastie Boys on vinyl at  home would ensue.  Tackle basketball with nerf ball upstairs in Arthur and Samuel’s room would always get party started up in here.  Every Friday night now, after the sunset, Joshua’s children got the best version of him because he was done writing for the week and was able to bask in the Shabbat candle, flickering afterglow of his blemish free children, inside and out, as they played Barbie, sang, danced, built wine castles with magnet tiles, let their imaginations run wild or just jumped on top their daddy, from every conceivable direction and hug him with all their might, to give the best of their love.  If mama was home for a Friday night, she’d push for some recent Disney film, that got lot’s of NPR hype, versus Joshua would insist on exposing his 3 beamish, fuss free kids 90 percent of the time, to more classic, hilarious, life enriching movies such as Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Uncle Buck, Back To School, The Adventures of Ford Fairlane, knowing dropping f bombs wasn’t kosher come rain or shine .

If he had to choose, Joshua would take his snuggling, heart deepening forties with his 3 kids over his frantic, booze heavy loaded, perpetual hound dog, lucky to get out alive LA in his twenties and contract some new strain of HIV, even Magic couldn’t make disappear in a NY minute. Joshua loved to teach his kids kettle belle cowboy swinging exercises and core strengthening plank exercises with them, only for his beautiful 6-year-old boy to jump on to his back for the remaining 39 left. Joshua loved to watch GI Joe toy collection videos on You Tube on their fairly big flat screen, to give his kids some big Kahuna gifts like the GI Joe Command Center with a jail cell for Zartan to get excited about, once his writing career took off the ground already, after already blowing a mini fortune on the original Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes from 82.  Poison, Nothing But A Good Time would be playing on 95.1 FM, the local classic rock station for Westchester County and nearby CT, promoting Joshua to say, “The kids love this song.” Only for his wife to say, “They just love because you do.” Deep down, Joshua felt it was deeper that it. Joshua knew his children were unabashed, kick ass, patriotic, rock and roll loving Americans, who both respected and adored, any manifestation of you better recognize attitude, relentless, self-belief powered aggressiveness, unabashed weirdo flair and major league, kiss ass at costs, gaul.   Joshua could watch his daughter Matilda, ride her bike in the nearby, empty parking lot as his son Arthur zipped around on his scooter, as his younger brother Chosen Curls chose to zip around superfast earning his nickname Super Flash, for hours if he wasn’t still freezing his balls off in May, as the Metro North train passed by, as their dad would sing in out of tune, playful fashion, “Dinosaur train, Dinosaur train.”  Before Baby Samuel was born Joshua took Matilda and Arthur to a Kid Rock show in Hartford, CT, just so they could hear his latest hit single First Kiss, by Kid Rock, only to sing in blissed out, nirvana peaking unison, “With Tom Petty on the radio. If I could just go back in time to fall in love with you again.” Now, when Joshua heard She’s The One by Bruce Springsteen on a Friday night on the Born Run album on Vinyl, he’d dance like man possessed with the most extreme, ecstatic type of love, no MDMA required because his love of being a dad to the closest three best friends he never had, who loved everything about him and all his passions and dreams, in addition to his annoying tendency to interrupt them and yell more than he should like most native New Yorkers do.

Joshua learned spontaneous plans versus plotted out ones using the localized search powered Yelp app was guaranteed to provide more magic and surprise delights on the horizon. Today, Joshua and his 3 kids went inside a mini, sit down, designed to be a picnic to go take out fancy sandwich shop called Perfect Picnic on Central Park West in the high nineties, tailor made of shishy bitches himself, offering a plethora of baguettes, fig spreads and goat cheese spreads to get any Kosher practicing, part time vegetarian off long time. There, Joshua recognized the woman owner of the shop saying, “Wait a minute, I could’ve sworn we met at coffee shop on Houston in SOHO, when you about to pitch this picnic to go concept ages almost 12 years ago. I remember you telling me how your parenting gets really exiting when they turn 4 and older.” The Perfect Picnic owner says, “I can’t believe you remember this conversation. My daughter was 4 before my Perfect Picnic pitch to a VC investor, right around the time, I just gotten divorced, that’s correct”

Joshua proceeded to charm her panties off with plenty of dad material later such as, “God didn’t give me 3 unplanned kids to have a panic over it. Obviously, God never had the same confidence in Pete Davidson, the rebound boy king voice of Generation Z.”  But for all stroking Joshua had done in honor on his Do It All Dad Year podcast, blogs and books, he also made it crystal clear, none of his awe inspiring creative output would’ve been possible without his Do It All Mom nurse wife.  Do It All Moms who did their best to make the most of out a shitty situation, like Joshua’s wife choosing to work nights, enabling her to spend more time with her kids while giving her husband more freedom to write, sell books and secure an advertiser for his podcast already.  But a single Do It All Mom, doing everything on her own, was rarified feat, deserving the highest praise imaginable in Joshua’s eyes, because as baby boomer God, Bob Dylan captures beautifully in his son Visions of Johana, “Tell me someone, that’s not a parasite, and I’ll say a prayer for him.”  Being an ex IT recruiter agency journey man recruiter, who fashioned himself as an overlooked, funnier Henry Miller, who used to live off Anis Nin during his STD catching Paris years, hit more home than Joshua preferred to admit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 38 Eyes Of The Comedy Booker

 

Chapter 38

Eyes of The Comedy Booker

 

Any wannabe paid set comedian, who created an email address such as killerset@gmail.com like Joshua did 15 years ago never outgrew his insatiable need to dominate on stage and finally deliver the elusive, teasing, killer laugh wave set from start to finish for 5 minutes straight.  When Joshua told his dad about his new showbiz hued email address, his expected reply was, “I’d create a new email address, that sounds more professional because any employer will think you’re crazy. I don’t even know how we’re related. Killerset@gmail.com, is a good email address if you’re joining a sex cult in Waco, Texas, genius.”  But Joshua was way past giving a shit about acting in accordance with so called bounds of normalcy within the eyes of hiring sales managers and HR humpbacks littered throughout corporate America because becoming a professional comedian, who got paid to write funny or perform the funny you wrote on stage, was a giant fuck you to the straight, corporate hack, professional world, versus the world of entertainment, which rewards you for being excellent at getting your funny man freak on for a living.

It brought Joshua tremendous joy and prideful satisfaction to impress major comedy big wigs with his writing such as headliner great Nick Diapalo, who Joshua fondly remembers always  laughing the hardest from out of all the Comedy Cellar comics on Tough Crowd, which he used to get stoned and watch with his Ithaca bud JT who had just moved down to Hermosa Beach nearby back in the day. The same JT, who made tasteless Holocaust jokes, who peed himself constantly, but he was a solid drinking, weed smoking buddy, who had a shit together enough to end up graduating from Babson and score a job in SAP finance at Raytheon in nearby Redondo Beach. Joshua tolerated the occasional Holocaust jokes, because some Gentiles are more tasteless degenerates than their fellow Jewish friends, who weren’t blessed with the funny Jew bone either, so they can’t discern what’s really funny versus truly tasteless either.  JT and Joshua would love blasting the Motley Crue album, Too Fast For Love, together, after they got their drink on at the Poop Deck in Hermosa Beach after work with some other buds, right off the strand, where everyone would get picture of cheap lager beer for 4 bucks each, and you were allowed 2 pitcher each, so the amassment of pitchers grew quite large if they were 10 deep that night at the Poop Deck. During one of those nights, pounding cheap beer, soaking up the joyous youth of their mid-twenties, no longer freezing their balls off back east, JT tells Joshua, “Your short term memory is embarrassment to your people but you’re a social genius man.” Another of one of their drinking buds, who was a Marine, once told Joshua, “You can be the next Larry David man.” And Joshua wasn’t even that funny back then or even grown the ball sack to try being funny on stage yet.   Joshua missed his friend JT. They passed out at a 311 concert together in Long Beach, only 10 minutes in. Last he heard, JT got stone cold sober, after his ex-roommate and friend Jerard died from cancer at 32. The same good guy Jerard, from Indiana, who booked our hotel room at the Marriot by Times Square, insisting, he was always wanted to celebrate New Years Even in Manhattan, the place of Joshua’s birth, despite getting drunk and sluty desperate in the city for New Years being yesterday’s news for Joshua at this stage in his life.  It was impossible to not think of dear Gerard, when Joshua finished writing his script for America’s Hard 100 at Viacom Headquarters blocks down from the same Marriot in Times Square, where he saw his jubilant, edge free, rock solid, good guy face ever again. It was Greenwich Village, which held a longer lasting, special clasp on his heart than Times Square ever was, regardless if it being the site of his TV writing break, which was 12 years in the making or not.

Greenwich Village was another universe, within New York City, always more intimate, poetic and romantic than the now Salesforce building tainted skyline in Midtown Manhattan, yuck.  Herald Square by Madison Square Garden was still a dump at large, upper east had seen better days, upper west was still for single cat depressed cat ladies, Chelsea was overpriced, bland, and nothing to write home about.  Hells Kitchen, now nicknamed Hells Kitty on the outskirts of the Time Square and the Theatre District, possessed a quaint, quiet charm but never exuded a posh, I have to live here no what matter what, or I’ll die a creative failure.  The Lower East Side, south of Houston on Mott or Ludlow was cool, but cramped and Ronan Farrow lived there, in one of those luxurious condo high rises so how rock and roll was the former cruising ground of William Burroughs after all.  SOHO was gorgeous, the Euro trash in decked out Prada smoking American Spirit cigarettes, lingering outside the Mercer Hotel not so much. But Greenwich Village. The cobble stone street and Tribeca lofts off Battery Park were sweet, but it was impossible not to contemplate the avoidable spectator of large scale death still hovering in the air from ground zero, now replaced with sparkling Freedom Tower, as a heart crushing reminder, of America’s never ending war against terror, when W fucked up everything he touched without fail.  The East Village had Jones Street and Saint Marks, where Joshua used to get his bootleg Dead tapes in college, but now all he saw around these parts were fresh of the womb, zero style, nerds, who worked as coders, product managers or UX designers for good will hoodie at Facebook. Greenwich Village by NYU outside of Washington Square Park and the Comedy Cellar and Bitter End, is what gave Joshua sustained stiffage long time, that’s where action was, to chase down open mikes, bringer shows or paid performer gigs anywhere else was nuts. All of Joshua’s comedic heroes of yesteryear got their joke hitting practice at dumps such as Bitter End and within the basement bunker known as the Comedy Cellar. Joshua was still enamored with Joan Rivers, Rodney and the new school cast of big deal clowns like Jim Norton, Chris Rock, the late Greg Geraldo, and Nick lick my white Italian nuts Diapalo, knowing they all earned their pro stripes within these hallowed, better not suck walls.  The more fairy book tree lined, gas lit, stoop heavy streets of the West Village along Perry Street where Sarah Jessica Parker wrote her Sex In The City Column on HBO was and always would be magical in Joshua’s eyes, yet he wasn’t a fabulous, gay Investment banker with a personal MMA trainer at his beck and call either.

Joshua had good sets at the Comedy Cellar when he used to work as IT agency recruiter on 39 Broadway, using his office to fax copies of his Always Sunny In Philadelphia spec script, “The Gang Get’s Outsourced.” There was super cute, always perky up top Holly in his office, who he totally could mounted on top of his desk after work with real drill attack fury. They’d got out to lunch together for cheese steaks and her friends on Facebook in their early twenties compared to Joshua being a 31 at time, were even hotter, banging professional baseball players. Joshua was always into Italian gals and they felt the same. Holly even help Joshua develop his signature seeing eye dog bit at work one late night. She says in a friendly, helpful, way, “Why you don’t you try acting out the seeing eye dog on stage instead? Joshua took her advice and did his bit in front of beautiful, spastic laugh spewing Holly, “Do Blind Men get the beer googles? Assuming they do, does the seeing eye dog ever offer a second opinion? We better pass on this one Stevie. You can feel her face, but I can smell her snatch, woof, woof.” Holly finishes laughing and says, “I love you getting down on all fours. You’re going to kill at the Comedy Cellar tonight. I can feel it.” Holly was the best. If Joshua wasn’t a nice Jewish boy living with his girlfriend now wife Anna at the time, they could’ve made a hot to trot couple together. Holly even recommended Joshua write books for a living, without even reading any of his story scripts similar to his Summer wind Summer in Hermosa Beach, what a woman.

It was hard to not think of Holly as Joshua greeted Este, at her comedy club the Laugh Yanker, a new addition the Greenwich Village stand-up comedy scene, only blocks away from the Comedy Cellar, whose comedy booker was Isralie born also.  Ester greets Joshua outsider her comedy club, finishing smoking her Camel Wide cigarette, Turkish blend.  “Hi Joshua, you’re strutting the city like you’re in a NY groove again”, she says. Joshua says, “Your presence makes my mojo rising Ester.” Ester replies, “So I heard your comedy record, Resist This. You got it kid, very funny stuff. I just don’t know if New York City is ready for you yet. You can be a tad overwhelming. Have you ever considered writing a novel? You can let your imagination run wild and use a narrator voice, so your singular, larger than life personality doesn’t overwhelm all your senses at once the way it does on your comedy record Resist This. The seeing eye dog bit was one of my personal favorites. I see you a dreamy crossbreed of Richard Lewis, Dice and Rodney Dangerfield.” Joshua’s smart phone rings. He says, “You’re too kind Ester, just give me a second.” Joshua picks up his phone and hears, “Hello Joshua, this Pierre, the Creative Director at Porsche SUV. We loved your audition and want you to be our new face and voice for our family friendly Porsche SUV campaign.” Joshua replies, “That’s great news, Pierre, but you’ll have to talk to my agent Matilda, to hammer out all the business details.” Pierre says, “You mean you’re 9-year-old daughter? I already have Joshua, that’s why you’ll have your own comedy gold, Porsche SUV as a signing bonus as an act good faith to secure your services for this campaign. She insisted. Congrats again, or as your people say, Mazel Tov.” Joshua says, to Esther, “Feel my face, I just got my Comedy Gold Porsche SUV. Do my cheeks feel flush with untapped possibility? Still, why do I want to an open mike set at the Comedy Cellar right now and be the most patronizing asshole imaginable?” Ester says, “Sounds like you’re in the mood for a victory lap to me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 37 Boobie Talk

 

 

Chapter 37

Boobie Talk

 

Joshua missed sucking on some boob, that wasn’t his wife’s breast-feeding ones, who for the past nine years have tasted like a foamy tipped, regrettable non-fate latte. His summer wind Katie’s were perfect, as Rodney would say, 36 D to be exact. You’d think they were fake by the way they bounced when she was on top, because they barely moved out of their picturesque, perky plump place.  One time Joshua was doing Kettle belle chest raises off their fancy, Moroccan print, self-designated Rocky rug in the garage and having his 9 year old daughter do the same after, which prompted to her ask, “Daddy, will these chest exercises stunt my eventual breast development? Joshua says, “If you take off mommy, it shouldn’t be too much of a load off your shoulders.”

Growing up Joshua was more into the actress, Mimi Roger’s luscious lobes of round, from the 1st Austin Powers more so than Liz Hurley, who wasn’t making you feel shortchanged on top either.  Scandal in the Mansion was his favorite old school seventies porn by far, before tatted up white girls on Crystal meth ruined porn for him, being more of a golden age of bush, guy, himself. Like Dice would say back in the day, “Woman today, want to hide the smell with Chanel and stuff. When I go down there, I want to taste, SALMON.”  And smoking hot Nicole Eggert from Charles in Charge, who Joshua had poster from Child World, that his friend Jared offered to trade an Eric Lindros rookie card for, only became a woman in his Joshua’s eyes, after her boob job on full display in soft core porn flick Blown Away, starring a suddenly grown up ripped Corey Haim, before Hollywood used and abused him, sucking his life spark dry.

Now, Joshua was getting lost in Golda’s gorgeous, sun spotted, well tan cleavage formation with a star of David dangling between her swinging beauties on her nationally syndicated conservative talk radio show host of The Funny Jew Bone. Golda says, “Today, on our show, we’ve got a stay at home comedian dad, Michael Kornbluth, whose 9 year old daughter agent, suggested I book him a guest on my show already, after pushing for him to get into my Great American Jewish Novel Book club prior. Joshua just released his very funny, super ballsy, debut comedy record, Resist This. You recorded this comedy record from home correct? Joshua replies, “That’s correct Golda. I understand there’s no live audience, yet funny is funny and the material made me laugh out loud from start to finish, which is more than I can say for Dennis Miller’s White Album, also not recorded in front of a live stand up comedy audience. Also, what kind of a douche bag are you to name your comedy record, the freaking White Album, which is a top 4 Beatles record at best. Plus, shouldn’t comedians who consider themselves to true artists for creating comedic art of nothing, doing more some comedy gold digging to craft a stronger headliner hooker of a comedy record title than the fucking White Album. Also, isn’t great comedy, the most universal and not using the most obscure details to only stroke off your own fake news deep ego long time. Granted, Dennis Miller did encourage Lorne Michaels to give the golden Jew Adam Sandler and audition, but he also named his kid Holden, from Catcher In The Freaking Rye.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed that book when I was 15 like everyone else but he always came off a tad too preppy petulant for my taste. You were miserable in junior high, join the freaking club, at least you got live in Manhattan and lose your virginity to I’m assuming, was a semi good looking prostitute who knew she was doing a hole. Also, what kind of an asshole does a standup comedy show in Vegas, with his hands his jacket pockets half the time, fashioning himself as a punchier, styling Mark Twain minus the cutting, nationally acclaimed literary loaded, imaginative heft? So, Dennis Miller looks good in a beard and started defending Trump 2 years into his already wildly successful presidency, woopty freaking-do, Miller. Kevin Hart named his kids Hendrix and Heaven which is way cooler than Holden. Obviously, none of those names compare to me naming my son Arthur Morrison Kornbluth, pulling off a miracle by creating a freaking flow to Kornbluth but I digress.  I had an old joke, where I’d comment about how my last name Kornbluth is a mouthful and I even struggle to annunciate it despite having 4 decades of practice. Then, adding, Kornbluth is a total mouthful. Kim Kardashian can’t even wrap her mouth around it.  But now Kim Kardashian is studying to become a Criminal Justice Lawyer, after using her enormous social media platform to help get Alice Water’s pardoned from jail, so I’m just another loudmouth Jew in comparison minus the rich, successful friends, excluding you Golda. Kim Kardashian is going to become a Criminal Justice Lawyer. Criminal Justice Lawyers are so hot right now.” Gold finishes laughing and says, “I call this show the Funny Jew Bone for a reason folks. Joshua was obviously endowed with bigger bone than most.” Joshua continues to roll, constantly selling, “So my debut comedy record Resist This, consists of my greatest joke gem hits from my Do It All Dad Year Podcast, what gen X parents understand, controlling our kids with comedy can make our kids great again. My 3 fuss free kids most of the time, are living proof of it. I’ve done 162 episodes of straight up, topical stand up for 3 years straight, accumulating hours of grade A stand up material while looking after 3 kids in the process. John Lennon wishes he was this productive during his stay at home dad years.  Golda says, “Are you sure there isn’t anything you left out Joshua?” Joshua says, “Glad you asked Golda. I knew you got paid the big bucks for a reason. I’m about to complete my 1st coming of age, midlife crisis reinvention novel, The Great American Jew Novel in addition to securing our 1st round of super angel funding for my Do It All Dad Year Hero, Kosher Cheesesteak truck, using a plant based cheese wiz, which would blow off your bra Golda.” Golda says, “I noticed you getting lost at my balling beauties, prior. If you got it flaunt it.” Joshua says, “That’s why you couldn’t shut me up if you tried Golda, unless you buried my face into your chest during your next commercial break.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 34 Gold Driller

 

 

Chapter 34

Gold Driller

Joshua never cared for dentists. He didn’t care if they were oral surgeons like his ex-girlfriend’s father despite his keg of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale on tap at his house, because birthing the only Irish lassie in Westwood who couldn’t handle her beer or booze made it a wash. Plus, Joshua resented the standard smug stable, pseudo brainy, neat, never too taxing 9 to 5, assistant organized existence of dentists. They never made a cold call in their life. They never had parents who shit on their dreams from start to finish. They never had to endure passive aggressive insults from their wife’s blah breathed friends at wedding with lines such as, “So you’re hosting a podcast. At least, you have a creative outlet to express yourself.” At the same time no dentist had to bite their lip for the sake of radical civility at their wife’s best friend wedding in upstate New York, as the same girl gives you grief for drinking a seltzer at the bar in splendid isolation away from his kids for a change, only to hear, “Feel free to join the party any time.” Boy did Joshua grow to hate resistor liberal, fucking fatties from New Jersey. He’d father face fuck a trailer girl with no teeth from the backwoods of West Virginia. At least, she’d could instruct him on the difference between powdery cocaine to sniff versus Crystal Meth.

There was also a pseudo ex friend from high school, who was apart of his pink crew who became a Dentist in DC. Joshua was happy for him, but Phil had a streak of funny in him, winning wittiest over Joshua in high school, senior year compared to Joshua’s win for grooviest, an award invented in his honor, but losing out to Phil still pissed him off. But really pissed Joshua off, besides Phil never being responsible for making Joshua laugh out loud on any consistent basis ever, was him not taking any creative chances with his life become another fucking dentist in his life, after attending college at Washington University with Joanna and Ari, from his senior class, whose carbon copies quotes of What A Strange Trip’s It’s Been, on their respective senior year book pages, failed to project much NPR group think originality either. The same dentist, once inferring Joshua be more a behind the scenes guy, after bumping into him on Metro North after telling him about his 2-year pursuit into stand-up comedy. Some of his meat head, football playing buds from high school, always thought he overreacted to this assertion, of Joshua being a more behind the scenes type of guy. This fake news deep dentist could go fuck himself long time in Joshua’s eyes. You score a call back for Paul Mooney sketchy comedy show, showcase the balls to approach Richard Pryor’s best friend and only joke writer, who never went out of his way, to suck off whitey ever and get back to Joshua on your ball free, zero imagination, gunky teeth cleaning existence on what actual star power you’re capable of exuding to see emanate inside and out through others who got it, moron. Its not’s that Joshua was jealous of the hefty, paycheck dentists received or normalized respect their profession engendered. He just hated members of his tribe who were Dentists, who acted like your bud, who promised to read your books and review them on Amazon, who never did. Comedians as a whole hate two faced hypocrisy like so called non-violent liberals insisting ANTIFA wasn’t a terrorist organization, deeming them an instrument of good, despite them throwing bags of piss at cops, concrete milkshakes at gay journalists who have a bi-line for the National Review or set fire to US military recruitment offices in Berkley, because big bad Ben Shapiro is in town, to give another boring, grating speech on how to own liberals in a debate, despite him being the least threatening Jew in America next to Chelsea’s Clinton’s neutered hub. Joshua was fed up with east coast, racist calling, elitist conjuring bullshit. Caring was emoting in his honor and if you made an effort to devalue his potential with gain with, you’re writing the Great American Jew Novel with so, you’re were off the list, meaning off the list of people, he gave 2 shits with impressing at this stage of his life 3 unplanned kids later, raising his kids all by himself, as grandparents on both side, continued to watch CNN for only fiancé news. Yeah, and Joshua only watched Real Time with Bill Maher for his bible study group.

Joshua loved to read the Weird But True books to his kids at night, especially to his 9 year old daughter Matilda, who took a special interest them also, despite her constantly busting her dada’s balls for reading more books of fiction because the Godfather by Mario Puzzo didn’t count. Last night, Joshua was reading to Matilda the Weird But True fact about how human start shrinking after 40 but Joshua was no 43 going in 44 and felt like he continued to grow in comedic stature and actual height in real life. Every time, he’d see his old buds for a game of stick ball, despite them being products of the comfy confines of Westchester Country versus the more hardcore, brick laden surroundings of the boogie down Bronx, they’d comment, “Joshua you’re enormous. Then, Joshua would air out a football and they’d started hailing their old bud as someone who could’ve been the second coming of Vinnie Testeverde. But Joshua’s yoga improved posture and core exercise regiment involving a daily use of kettle bells and arm planks on his yoga mat in his downstairs garage work out sanctuary, daily morning prayer space only played a surface level contribution to his enhanced physical and spiritual growth, enabling him to grow closer to God every day, yeah, yeah. The other side to Joshua’s hypergrowth during his time in the wilderness here in Croton Falls, NY hosting his podcast and writing his joke heavy books from home in their comedy grant house on the most northern point of Westchester Country, God’s country in his eyes, enveloped by one pristine, water spritzing reservoir or glistening lake after another, was the searing growing pains associated with acknowledging he had outgrown the need or want of adulation from those he once considered his closest alleys, friends, or past believers in him, namely his wife. He didn’t want to hear about the questionable news sources he read from anymore. He didn’t want to her so, couldn’t have done this and that, but I was just joke when I said I hated him. He didn’t want to hear Americans were stupid anymore. He didn’t want to hear negative, downer, hysteria, hate driven drivel on social media anymore. He didn’t want to ease his kid’s developing anxiety anymore, because Mama equated a substandard tooth brushing job, to kids dying of eventual, premature plague covered heart failure. He didn’t want to hear his wife actually explain what amber alert was to kids in full fucking detail. He didn’t want his kids to feel they were in constant competition with their mama’s fucking Instagram anymore. He was done acting like he card to be charming around his mother-in-law whenever he was graced with her presence again, just because she send her grandchildren another belated birthday card 2 months after the fact, while only using more stamps of the Virgin Mary in the middle of fucking summer. Joshua outgrew the need to give 2 shits about understanding the nuances of English worshiping football, because watching it still bored him to death. Joshua was sick of hearing his English born and raised, father in law on how George Washington was nothing but a lucky general while George Harrison was underappreciated, wordsmith genius, despite possessing the riveting personality of a Mitt Romney’s power red, private equity tie collection. Joshua was tired of pretending his wife was uncomfortable with him teaching Solomon’s Song of Songs for his own version of weekend Hebrew School, because of her own non-believer status. Joshua was tired of hearing the line, I didn’t even know I was pregnant 5 months later, for those joyless, humorless, women in die hard, support of 3rd term abortion. Joshua was tired of putting PETA, NPR, ESPN, EPA and Nancy Denture Breath Pelosi, on any so-called elevated pedestal of any kind. Joshua was also tired of drilling for comedy gold with all his funny man Jewish fighting might only to have Republicans who live to own liberals, deride his edgy, in your face, bombastic showmen style as mere crazy, over the rainbow, certainly gone swimming. Joshua was tired of pretending his dear New York City wasn’t turning into a piss sprayed, weed stinking, glamor stripped shithole fast. Joshua had outgrown the limited, provincial, so called enlightened New Yorkers adopted or native born of his past, who zero respect for heart felt patriotism, our troops, cops or masterful ball busting and high-level salesmanship done good. Joshua was tired of pretending his mama didn’t hate him for serving lady laugh despite no clear pay day in sight. Joshua was tired of acting like he didn’t want to mount a sexy, chesty, older, Jewish babe or not, with ravenous delight, who cared enough to emote in his honor, intent on draining him dry in the most primal, non-fighting about the same bullshit again sense possible. This slut in a straight jacket, needed to break free from his rusty cage in pursuit of toner, sexier, more loving arms fast. But Joshua was a family man and couldn’t wreck his marriage because his sweaty sex period with his wife was over. Plus, the idea of any of male figure raising his kids killed him fast. Still, it didn’t mean Joshua couldn’t get his hardcore flirt on, flex with his magnetic might around those fetching, older, Jewish or not loving babes, who could be the dreamy fill in Jewish Godmother MILF for his kid while making his wife get jealous and more appreciative of just his children being so wonderful due to his handy work so far. But as Joshua always pounded into his kids craniums, money equals freedom and it was time to get this Do It All Hero Food Truck on the road to Kansas City for the World Series of Barbeque championship, to test market their star Kosher smoked brisket, plant based cheese wiz hero. But first Joshua needed to partner with a star Chabad hipster in Crown Heights 1st.

Chapter 35 The Big Brother Butcher

                                                             Chapter 35

The Big Brother Butcher

 

It’s not easy to eat Kosher. If not for the whopping 2 kosher meat stores in all of Westchester County, NY, or the Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods in Danbury, CT, Joshua would be screwed. But in all seriousness, Joshua was going weeks without Kosher meet a time, even months sometimes, because he felt like a total selfish, fat slob for eating almost the entire mound of Kosher fried chicken all by himself because everyone else in the house at pescatarian. The main reason he refrained from making another overpriced, 40 dollar slab of scrumptious, well marbled brisket, in a homemade barbeque sauce in the Instant Pot, instead waiting to be reincarnated 5 times over into Vince Vaughn with a less obnoxious sounding cackling laugh in the older than Yiddish, slower cooker, was because Joshua wanted to everything within his power to avoid hearing his wife utter with jealous laced disgust, “Did you wash the cutting board with disinfectant?” Joshua claims she was jealous of his devour heavy Kosher meat feasts because she had nothing to do with giving him such wow, worthy pleasure. Joshua was taken a page out writer Ayn Rand’s book, by no longer living to please others has much. Joshua realized, relying on others, even loved ones, to give you sustainable pleasure, was bound to lead down the path of crushing, let down disappointment again and again. Granted, his 3 kids were perfect, who were only guilty of being too much in Daddy, insisting on stroking his scratchy beard and smell his armpit one last time before he tucked them in a bed to determine if Daddy was wearing deodorant or not. Obviously, Joshua had zero problem with his children manhandling him any chance they could get, especially in front of his wife, knowing how much it proved Do It All Dads matter.  His 3-year-old son Samuel loved to be hoisted up to ceiling with his bum touching the ceiling so daddy can say, “You want to be Spidey baby?” After a double bath bomb special, 3 year old Samuel would ask daddy to wrap him up like a baby to the bedroom before giving back to back to back, elevator drops, where he’d pick him with the towel wrapped around his back and drop him down to bed to repeated, shrieks of joy and endless request, “One more daddy.” Before Baby Samuel would instruct his Daddy, “Now tell Alexa to play, No More, No More by Aerosmith Dada. No more elevator drops, the last one almost shattered my teeth.”     But if Joshua had to endure his wife guilting his daughter into giving forced, emotive praise in honor of her brown poopy liquid looking black bean soup, he’d start sneaking in cut off pieces of Hebrew national franks into kids Heinz baked beans in a NY minute.

Growing up, shopping at the Kosher meat store with his Dad was weird. The Hebrew lettering on the meat exuded a mystical, holy component to it more in retrospect, since Joshua got closer to God and started to acknowledge his existence on a daily morning and evening basis. But back sometime in the 1980’s, the Hebrew lettering imprint, on the sticker price tags, designating it’s Kosher meat status was just perceived as another unwelcome reminder of another boring slog through Hebrew School.  Again, Joshua had a hard time getting excited about trips to the Kosher butcher back then because he wasn’t into cooking for himself, or embracing making a Kosher fried chicken in 30 bucks worth of Peanut oil from the Corona Virus laden, now closed down Chinese grocery store, within the derelict, strip mall stretch one floor below the DMW in White Plains, NY.  Joshua got a tad chummy with a butcher at the Farmer’s Market by the Grove in West Hollywood, when he started making homemade meatballs based on the recipe from the Soprano’s Cookbook, a NY Times Best Seller pre-fakes news, when he actually read the paper of record on a religious basis, to make him feel smarter and more informed in the process, after learning Walt Clyde Frazier read it religiously since he got drafted by the Knicks to expand his stupendous, ever expansive vocabulary with such nimble, “feline quickness.” Joshua loved these meatballs, because they combined ground veal, ground sirloin beef and ground, pinkish pork, back when eating some occasional pork didn’t bother Joshua one bit, despite his rapidly developing fondness for thick, double stacked, Turkey burgers from Astro Burger on Santa Monica Blvd, slathered with mayo, shredded lettuce and gooey slices of American cheese draping the mouthwatering bomb burger throughout. Joshua even introduced the same butcher to his mother during one her visits to the city of angels, which were always nice. What’s there not to like about LA, except the brutal bumper to bumper traffic and Hollywood producers, studio heads and directors giving the green light to rape kid actors at will?  Corey Haim Gen X’s dear lost boy, included.

Now, Joshua was in Crown Heights Brooklyn for the 1st time to meet Schmendel at Kosher butcher shop, which makes brisket heroes to go, which he was going to squirt his latest and greatest planted based cheese wiz on for a taste test.   Schmendel hugs it with the Kosher Butcher Jeremiah from across the butcher counter.  Jeremiah says, “Good to see you brother. I got your 2 Brisket Bomb heroes to go, the best in Brooklyn, including Williamsburg and I don’t to rely on melted, hard provolone, which tastes better by itself cold, on top to do it. Are you the Do It All Dad Hero guy, my younger brother has been yapping about it?  Joshua says, “In the flesh, you 2 are brothers?” Jeremiah says, “We pledged Zeta Beta, can’t you tell? We figured our natural good looks and superior wit wasn’t enough to guarantee us access to all the high-end puss John Hopkins University had to offer. I’m just playing, John Hopkins didn’t have much scrumptious trim to inhale in the 1st place. Joshua says, “Do you mind we squeeze some of your big brother’s plant-based cheese wiz on top your Bomb Brisket hero? I don’t want to trigger any hardcore orthodox Jews in the process. Would you mind making an announcement to your customers, we’re not using actual cheese wiz?” Jeremiah says, “Big brother, that’s a good one. If he was the big brother and real next in line man of the family, he would’ve taken over dad’s Kosher butcher business, not me. Do you have any idea how long it takes to scrub the smell of Kosher flank steak out of your hair? But don’t worry it Joshua, stop being such worrisome, neurotic Jew. Let’s try this plant based, cheese wiz already.” Joshua grabs the can of wiz from Schmendel and sprays on his Do It All Dad Hero and takes a bite. His eyes light up and says, “Fuck stand up comedy and writing more books, I can’t even get paid fucking reviews for because I violated so called rules of hate speech. This Do It All Dad Hero is fucking delicious, even Bill Maher would suck it down if given the option of going down on 2 black trannies first.” Jeremiah says, “Brother, Joshua is growing on me already.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 34 Gold Driller

Chapter 34

Gold Driller

Joshua never cared for dentists. He didn’t care if they were oral surgeons like his ex-girlfriend’s father despite his keg of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale on tap at his house, because birthing the only Irish lassie in Westwood who couldn’t handle her beer or booze made it a wash. Plus, Joshua resented the standard smug stable, pseudo brainy, neat, never too taxing 9 to 5, assistant organized existence of dentists. They never made a cold call in their life. They never had parents who shit on their dreams from start to finish. They never had to endure passive aggressive insults from their wife’s blah breathed friends at wedding with lines such as, “So you’re hosting a podcast. At least, you have a creative outlet to express yourself.” At the same time no dentist had to bite their lip for the sake of radical civility at their wife’s best friend wedding in upstate New York, as the same girl gives you grief for drinking a seltzer at the bar in splendid isolation away from his kids for a change, only to hear, “Feel free to join the party any time.” Boy did Joshua grow to hate resistor liberal, fucking fatties from New Jersey. He’d father face fuck a trailer girl with no teeth from the backwoods of West Virginia. At least, she’d could instruct him on the difference between powdery cocaine to sniff versus Crystal Meth.

There was also a pseudo ex friend from high school, who was apart of his pink crew who became a Dentist in DC. Joshua was happy for him, but Phil had a streak of funny in him, winning wittiest over Joshua in high school, senior year compared to Joshua’s win for grooviest, an award invented in his honor, but losing out to Phil still pissed him off. But really pissed Joshua off, besides Phil never being responsible for making Joshua laugh out loud on any consistent basis ever, was him not taking any creative chances with his life become another fucking dentist in his life, after attending college at Washington University with Joanna and Ari, from his senior class, whose carbon copies quotes of What A Strange Trip’s It’s Been, on their respective senior year book pages, failed to project much NPR group think originality either. The same dentist, once inferring Joshua be more a behind the scenes guy, after bumping into him on Metro North after telling him about his 2-year pursuit into stand-up comedy. Some of his meat head, football playing buds from high school, always thought he overreacted to this assertion, of Joshua being a more behind the scenes type of guy. This fake news deep dentist could go fuck himself long time in Joshua’s eyes. You score a call back for Paul Mooney sketchy comedy show, showcase the balls to approach Richard Pryor’s best friend and only joke writer, who never went out of his way, to suck off whitey ever and get back to Joshua on your ball free, zero imagination, gunky teeth cleaning existence on what actual star power you’re capable of exuding to see emanate inside and out through others who got it, moron. Its not’s that Joshua was jealous of the hefty, paycheck dentists received or normalized respect their profession engendered. He just hated members of his tribe who were Dentists, who acted like your bud, who promised to read your books and review them on Amazon, who never did. Comedians as a whole hate two faced hypocrisy like so called non-violent liberals insisting ANTIFA wasn’t a terrorist organization, deeming them an instrument of good, despite them throwing bags of piss at cops, concrete milkshakes at gay journalists who have a bi-line for the National Review or set fire to US military recruitment offices in Berkley, because big bad Ben Shapiro is in town, to give another boring, grating speech on how to own liberals in a debate, despite him being the least threatening Jew in America next to Chelsea’s Clinton’s neutered hub. Joshua was fed up with east coast, racist calling, elitist conjuring bullshit. Caring was emoting in his honor and if you made an effort to devalue his potential with gain with, you’re writing the Great American Jew Novel with so, you’re were off the list, meaning off the list of people, he gave 2 shits with impressing at this stage of his life 3 unplanned kids later, raising his kids all by himself, as grandparents on both side, continued to watch CNN for only fiancé news. Yeah, and Joshua only watched Real Time with Bill Maher for his bible study group.

Joshua loved to read the Weird But True books to his kids at night, especially to his 9 year old daughter Matilda, who took a special interest them also, despite her constantly busting her dada’s balls for reading more books of fiction because the Godfather by Mario Puzzo didn’t count. Last night, Joshua was reading to Matilda the Weird But True fact about how human start shrinking after 40 but Joshua was no 43 going in 44 and felt like he continued to grow in comedic stature and actual height in real life. Every time, he’d see his old buds for a game of stick ball, despite them being products of the comfy confines of Westchester Country versus the more hardcore, brick laden surroundings of the boogie down Bronx, they’d comment, “Joshua you’re enormous. Then, Joshua would air out a football and they’d started hailing their old bud as someone who could’ve been the second coming of Vinnie Testeverde. But Joshua’s yoga improved posture and core exercise regiment involving a daily use of kettle bells and arm planks on his yoga mat in his downstairs garage work out sanctuary, daily morning prayer space only played a surface level contribution to his enhanced physical and spiritual growth, enabling him to grow closer to God every day, yeah, yeah. The other side to Joshua’s hypergrowth during his time in the wilderness here in Croton Falls, NY hosting his podcast and writing his joke heavy books from home in their comedy grant house on the most northern point of Westchester Country, God’s country in his eyes, enveloped by one pristine, water spritzing reservoir or glistening lake after another, was the searing growing pains associated with acknowledging he had outgrown the need or want of adulation from those he once considered his closest alleys, friends, or past believers in him, namely his wife. He didn’t want to hear about the questionable news sources he read from anymore. He didn’t want to her so, couldn’t have done this and that, but I was just joke when I said I hated him. He didn’t want to hear Americans were stupid anymore. He didn’t want to hear negative, downer, hysteria, hate driven drivel on social media anymore. He didn’t want to ease his kid’s developing anxiety anymore, because Mama equated a substandard tooth brushing job, to kids dying of eventual, premature plague covered heart failure. He didn’t want to hear his wife actually explain what amber alert was to kids in full fucking detail. He didn’t want his kids to feel they were in constant competition with their mama’s fucking Instagram anymore. He was done acting like he card to be charming around his mother-in-law whenever he was graced with her presence again, just because she send her grandchildren another belated birthday card 2 months after the fact, while only using more stamps of the Virgin Mary in the middle of fucking summer. Joshua outgrew the need to give 2 shits about understanding the nuances of English worshiping football, because watching it still bored him to death. Joshua was sick of hearing his English born and raised, father in law on how George Washington was nothing but a lucky general while George Harrison was underappreciated, wordsmith genius, despite possessing the riveting personality of a Mitt Romney’s power red, private equity tie collection. Joshua was tired of pretending his wife was uncomfortable with him teaching Solomon’s Song of Songs for his own version of weekend Hebrew School, because of her own non-believer status. Joshua was tired of hearing the line, I didn’t even know I was pregnant 5 months later, for those joyless, humorless, women in die hard, support of 3rd term abortion. Joshua was tired of putting PETA, NPR, ESPN, EPA and Nancy Denture Breath Pelosi, on any so-called elevated pedestal of any kind. Joshua was also tired of drilling for comedy gold with all his funny man Jewish fighting might only to have Republicans who live to own liberals, deride his edgy, in your face, bombastic showmen style as mere crazy, over the rainbow, certainly gone swimming. Joshua was tired of pretending his dear New York City wasn’t turning into a piss sprayed, weed stinking, glamor stripped shithole fast. Joshua had outgrown the limited, provincial, so called enlightened New Yorkers adopted or native born of his past, who zero respect for heart felt patriotism, our troops, cops or masterful ball busting and high-level salesmanship done good. Joshua was tired of pretending his mama didn’t hate him for serving lady laugh despite no clear pay day in sight. Joshua was tired of acting like he didn’t want to mount a sexy, chesty, older, Jewish babe or not, with ravenous delight, who cared enough to emote in his honor, intent on draining him dry in the most primal, non-fighting about the same bullshit again sense possible. This slut in a straight jacket, needed to break free from his rusty cage in pursuit of toner, sexier, more loving arms fast. But Joshua was a family man and couldn’t wreck his marriage because his sweaty sex period with his wife was over. Plus, the idea of any of male figure raising his kids killed him fast. Still, it didn’t mean Joshua couldn’t get his hardcore flirt on, flex with his magnetic might around those fetching, older, Jewish or not loving babes, who could be the dreamy fill in Jewish Godmother MILF for his kid while making his wife get jealous and more appreciative of just his children being so wonderful due to his handy work so far. But as Joshua always pounded into his kids craniums, money equals freedom and it was time to get this Do It All Hero Food Truck on the road to Kansas City for the World Series of Barbeque championship, to test market their star Kosher smoked brisket, plant based cheese wiz hero. But first Joshua needed to partner with a star Chabad hipster in Crown Heights 1st.

Chapter 33 The Jewish Super Angel

                                                                         Chapter 33

 

The Jewish Super Angel

 

Growing up conservative Jewish in Edgemont, NY, Joshua was never entirely comfortable around Angel ornaments of any kind. For example, when his wife’s best friend got his daughter Matilda fairy wings for Christmas one year, insisting she try them on immediately, lead to Joshua freaking out instantaneously, stating, “Take the fairy wings off my daughter now. She looks like an overdose at the Limelight waiting to happen.”  The Limelight was an abandoned church turned into a clubby, rolling paradise throughout the late early 80’s, mid 90’s, making Macaulay Culkin look like a rapidly aging, embalmed, cadaver in fairy wings in the movie Party Animal, draining him of any old school, age of innocence charm left.

 

You would think Joshua’s mother from Louisville, Kentucky converting to Judaism would make him a tad less tense around angels on Christmas Trees, without feeling the need to deride some Christmas trees as, “too overtly churchy.” It didn’t help knowing his father would constantly shoot down his mom’s requests to get a Christmas tree every year during the holiday season, because they already had Christmas Stockings full of clementines and they put Christmas gifts from their relatives down south on the piano, nobody ever played.  Randy Newman piano playing, Jewish pride was devoid in this Kornbluth household on Glenwood Rd.  Every year, Joshua would push on his mom’s behalf, sticking up to his dad for a change back then saying, “Dad, get mom a tree already. She only abandoned her relationship with her lord and savior Jesus Christ to marry into your putzy DNA. It’s the least you can do, don’t you think? Dad says, “Joshua, Jews don’t buy Christmas Trees, unless they convert into a Tree House and flip it for a profit.”

Finally, Joshua’s dad relented one year, but only allowed the placement of a dwarfish scrubby bush within the cob webbed laden corner of the darkened, inside side porch. Still, Joshua marrying a gentile, did his best to get more comfortable in Church, even taken his 3 kids to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral during the holiday season, to ask God for a favorable review from the NY Post after he got the book editor there interested enough to give his debut book, Controlling My Kids With A Comedy, A Love Story, a read.  Joshua never heard back from the NY Post editor yet Hail Mary’s only work for Doug Flutie. Also, Joshua didn’t perceive a glowing review from a book editor at the NY Post, as an act of God in need of a miracle, because the all mighty was already channeled through the book, flush with A plus jokes and poetic prose, enough to give King David who first became famous as a big time singer songwriter musician, sustained stiffage long time.  But in Church, Joshua made it clear to his kids, “Just address prayers to God and not Jesus, and your still Kosher in the Old Testament’s book. Bill Maher could give a shit either way. “

 

Joshua had starting brushing up on angel literature, learning Joshua was Moses’s number one assistant, which is more daunting than the last one working for Harvey Weinstein trying to secure a meeting with a new hot actress on his old casting couch at the Four Seasons. Joshua decided to give the Hebrew name Jeremiah for his son Arthur Morrison Kornbluth, because he wrote the Book of Lamentations. And Joshua was always a huge Hair Metal power ballad guy, whose songs similar to the Book of Lamentations were always sorrowful but full out poetic longing and fleshed out feeling. Later, Joshua gave his son Samuel the Hebrew name Isaac, Yitzhak in Hebrew literally,  which Joshua loved because even the Koran gave Issac props, granting him immunity from ever being charged with intentional Islamophobia. And if Joshua were to rank the best prophets on Ranker, he’d put Isaac in the top 5 after Moses, and Abraham and King David, knowing he was no minor side character like the Tim Meadows of prophets, because he was the grandfather behind the 12 tribes of Israel. Nostradamus wouldn’t make Joshua’s list of top prophets on Ranker because he converted to Catholicism, so he wouldn’t be lumped together with all those dirty, crumb hoarding, Christian blood eating, ratty looking  Jews, for being the main culprits behind proliferating the fucking Plague, how convenient.

 

Now, Joshua was buzzing with heady anticipation knowing he destroyed during his audition for the family friendly Porsche SUV campaign, as he sipped his Macchiato at a swanky, modern, high tin ceiling covered coffee shop in the West Village; which could belong in Park Slope, Brooklyn if it ever attracted stylish, zero frump, 8 plus trim and above.  Joshua addresses the Barista who made the Macchiato at the coffee bar after he savors another sip, “Phenomenal Macchiato, it’s the most hydrating, non-burnt Macchiato I ever had in my life outside of Melbourne, Australia. I just feel like a moron for having to fly 5 million miles across the globe at 35 years to finally try a Macchiato for the 1st time in my life during my honeymoon in Australia. After dropping 2 Ambien and 2 mini servings of Jack before good night Irene on Quantas, farting up fumes of clam chowder from our layover in San Fran prior. The Macchiato is a circumcised Cappuccino, with half the foamage in my book. I wanted to marry my wife in Australia in Mother’s Beach in Victoria, where she grew up for a bit, yet my mom calls me on the phone one day and says, “Australia is a long flight from New York and your father doesn’t love you that much.” And I said, “Mom, just tell dad to drop another Ambien to sleep on the plane, which won’t be a radical departure from him doing the same at home after work on the couch for another 6 hours stretch at a time.   Finally, I reached a compromise with my wife, I said, “If we have a boy, instead of hiring a Rabbi for the circumcision, we’d hire Crocodile Dundee, just so we could hear a roomful of Jews, say, “Now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.” The grey Canali draped Jewish Super Angel, sporting a black power CAA power tie, finishes laughing, “Shouldn’t you be performing at the Cellar or at Caroline’s on Broadway? Your delivery is even better than the A plus material itself.”

“Joshua perks up immediately, turns his body toward the Jewish Super Angel and says, “Thank you very much. I appreciate the praise long time. I’m actually banned from the Comedy Cellar for going over my allotted time by 5 hours after getting the one minute warning sign to wrap it up, only 2 minutes into my killer set showcasing killer Heather Mills material, only after I invited  my own well-paying private militia. Taunting management, with that actual militia line, didn’t make management there hate me any less either. I did audition for the New York Comedy Festival and for a reality show titled America’s Next Great Roaster at Caroline’s, after an older comic gave me the idea to audition; who used to attend an open mike I hosted in the downstairs of a belly dancing, Moroccan restaurant along bumble fuck, most derelict slab of real estate remaining in Manhattan, on the corner of 99 cent pizza store on 40th and 10th. My roast subject was Justin Timberlake. I said,”Justin Timberlake is like George Michael, he sings, dances and sucks.” I also sampled some Park Slope stroller mom material. I said, “Do kids in Park Slope make your mama so stupid jokes about Stroller moms in Park Slope like your mama’s so dumb she can’t complete the crossword puzzle in the Monday New York Times? That joke is so elitist, Hillary just got moist for the 1st time in years. “The Jewish Super Angel finishes laughing and says, “Yeah, I hate that evil wench also. Remember, when it took her 5 times to get her MetroCard to work? Joshua says, “I do. With the all camera crews hovering around her, Hillary says to herself before swipe number 5, super predators, I mean black people are watching. You can do it.  Nice Windsor not, add that to my never ending learn how to do list.”  The Jewish Super Angel says, “You mean Seinfeld hasn’t done an entire laugh free, Driving in Cars episode on the subject with George Lopez yet?”  Joshua says, “I just read about Jerry selling one of his porches at a charity function in the Hamptons. I just hope half those proceeds went to Larry’s kids.” The Jewish Super Angel says, “What brings you to the West Village? Joshua says, “I just finished an audition to become the new family spokesperson for the new line Porsche Cayenne SUV’s. I could use the startup money for my Kosher food truck business, selling the Do It All Dad Hero, the first ever Kosher Cheesesteak truck, made with Kosher smoked Brisket and a plant-based cheese wiz. I got a Kosher cheese wiz master working on the recipe for the wiz right now, who graduated John Hopkins before I could complete my untimed SAT. The Jewish Super Angel says, “Take my card, consider me your Jewish Super Angel. I invest in startups for a living. But what I really invest in is people. Ashton Kutcher stole that line from me for the record.” Joshua says, “I’ll be in touch in then. Played Ashton Kutcher in a game of pick up ball at Fairfax High School once. He looked way prettier than Demi Moore when I saw her in person outside the Century City movie theater. She had a droopy, elongated, stretchy neck and the figure of undeveloped, 12 year-old boy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

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 the Buddy, I made a guitar down south growing up as a share cropper’s son out of fucking, busted porch door wife.  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 thoughts 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 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 hard 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 even has something happened to beehive, horn hiding, Benjamin Lover who exploited the great Palestinian song book for all it was worth. Can I 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 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 poke 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 trying something new, but it really came down to him hooking up with some upper classman during his trip to the college, which made him feel like a bigger baller on the rise.   Joshua had an older, platonic friend, Shannon who a place in downtown, Chicago, and enjoy getting his puff on with his other hippie buds there, yet what he really longed for the 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 his 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 outside when Joshua when to college for 2 years in the Midwest, knowing it was the 1st time it 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 good those Midwest girls drink. He used to party with these girls 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 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, rat a tat steam of busting balls throughout.  Still, did Joshua love Kayne West? Yes, but did he envy his soulful, cinematic powered, lyricism on par with 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 Sun Yee in his top sock drawer, because the Time life photo of her wasn’t enough, in a New York Minute. Did Joshua revere bands from who hailed from Chicago like Smashing Pumpkins.  Pearl Jam? Yes, but he revered bands such 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 Lowe 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.

 

 

 

Chapter 29 The Path of Most Resistance

 

 

Chapter 29

The Path Of Most Resistance

 

Joshua never underwent Psychoanalysis.  Still, it didn’t take some fake news deep shrink who majored in Psychology at Tufts, to realize Joshua pursued the comedic pursuit of making strangers laugh for a living because being shipped off to sleep away camp in Kent, CT 3 months a year every summer, without any burning desire to attend, never gave him the impression of being the center of his parents universe.  It’s not as if Joshua was such a perpetual drag on his parent’s time after they came home from work. He’d hear them talk about their workdays over dinner and then retreat to his room to play with his blocks, bang his GI Joe toys together way past the appropriate age to do so, as he used to Gung Ho to turn Cobra Commander into his personal gimpy, bitch in his own innocuous, pubescent form of Pulp Fiction. When Joshua got a bit older, he’d organize his Basketball card collection, consisting of almost every rookie who played for the original USA Dream Team, MJ an the Bird, MJ combo rookie card excluded, because together they cost more than ounce of Maui Wowie. That’s so good, you take only one hit of delicious, crystal flecked green, watch the entirety of Pink Floyd Wall Sophomore Year in college and think you comprehended all the symbolic nuances from start finish, back when Roger Waters was more pro wall but no so much in Israel’s case to prevent more blatantly unnecessary death. Later, after Joshua in Junior High, he’d decorate the walls of his bedroom with an unoccupied top bunk, with cut out pictures of all his Hair Metal Gods from Circus Magazine, which included non-pretty boy faces such as the Freddy Kruger of shredding Mick Mars from Motely Crew. But sometime in the early 1990’s, Joshua’s parents decided to repaint his lost in fantasy island room. The Italian painter took one look at Joshua’s wailing wall of metal and says, “There’s a lot of dolled up men on your wall.” In Joshua’s Heavy Metal High pilot trilogy, which he pitched to the EVP of VH1 Classic in Manhattan, his character replies to the Italian painter with, “I’m sorry are blush covered cheeked Bret Michaels from Poison not manly enough for you Dominick I Ain’t No Fag Scholanti.”

Joshua would never forgive himself for letting his father bully him into inviting his friend Ari to see Motley Crew in the 6th grade at the Nassau Coliseum, during their revitalized, hit heavy Dr. Feelgood tour, with Warrant as the opening act, after promising his closer friend Coop, with his far deeper ties at the time.  Coop didn’t talk to Joshua for a solid 5 years afterwards and they hung out plenty in Elementary School, going to movies at Movieland in Yonkers all the time because Coop was an only child, whose parents were both Lawyers, at the same law firm, the father owned, so the could afford a pair of smoking hot, au pairs from Switzerland who tasted good inside and out guaranteed.  Coop was a mensch. Before he became a top realtor in Manhattan, he was the Nino Brown of weed dealing at Hartford University and would let Joshua’s younger brother, sell major weight for him back home and let him off the hook no problem if he was ever light 500 here, 800 bones there. Plus, when Joshua had his stand-up comedy bringer show at the New York Comedy Club, Coop’s presence among his high school class of 99 caused the biggest stir. Coop also delivered the most touching, emotive praise after Joshua’s friend Ari, who was still a mensch in his own right, simply stating in a stupefied, teetering on awe inspired state, “Awesome.” Coop approached Joshua outside the New York Comedy Club and said, “Great show, very funny stuff bro” with all knowing stony Buda assurance. Joshua replied, “Thanks Coop, but I’m still so broke my Hebrew name is under Judicial review.” Coop refused to give into Joshua’s feeble attempt at self-deprecation, which never captured his true funny man essence entirely and says, “Stick with it, you’re funny.”

Understand, this is more emotive encouragement Joshua ever received from his own flesh and blood, being his younger brother and 2 parents. But as they says, the 1st hilarious Bat Men Lego movie, you get to chose your friends, not your family and Coop’s push for Joshua to continue down the pursuit of getting Lady Laugh off long time was a noble pursuit worth fighting for with all this funny Jew bone, God blessed might.  Joshua developed a later in life, cast iron dense strong friendship with adopted valley brother Jay from Southern California, who knew the real him inside and out and gave him an even more rousing, inspirational, Mick type pep push from Rocky when he said, “Never lose your edge JK.”

 

Now, Joshua was 43 turning on 44, still pursuing the path of most resistance. His parents wouldn’t acknowledge his debut comedy record nor would his younger brother. Joshua’s wife claims to overhear portions of his Do It All Dad Year Podcast from downstairs because he’s such a loudmouthed, crazy man Jew, but 150 episodes in, had never listened to one from start to finish.   When Joshua had moved back from LA after living out there for 6 years, in West Hollywood, Hermosa Beach and Sherman Oaks in the valley, another old school high bud saw him do an open mike set at some shit hole bar east of Madison Square Garden in Midtown east, total no man’s land and he said with stupefied bewilderment, “You’d be ok with dying alone. You’re really in no rush to be in a relationship again ever.” The reality is, ever since Joshua fell in love with making Lady Laugh, laugh, he never felt alone again.  God didn’t give Joshua 3 unplanned kids to have panic attack over it. If Joshua was out with his 3 kids by themselves, which was often, a stranger would say, “You got three.” And he’d say, “All 3 were unplanned. Obviously, I never planned the art of the pump fake.” Then, Joshua would hear the same random stranger comment on how pretty his lucky number 3 Samuel is and he’d reply in a relaxed manner because he was accustomed to the unsolicited praise so often by now, “He’s a very pretty he. I envision a future where he’ll be fronting a Poison cover band no problem” These lines would generate streams of laughter every time. Joshua wasn’t ready to relinquish his God given edge just yet.