The Flirting Conductor

By forsaking flirting, we’re cheating ourselves of a richer life to tap into for more joy spewing tomorrows. At least, that’s what I’m teaching my son today as we near close to ending his homeschooling apprenticeship, on the importance of flirting power. But why does flirting power matter? Because sometimes, loving the one you’re with isn’t enough. Screw Stephen Stills. Loving the one you’re with is a whole lot easier in 1970 when your able to forsake condoms for silky smooth lining instead of plastic covered seats. At the same time, my son is only 5 and hasn’t started Kindergarten yet. And I haven’t even joked about sending my kid to junior high during the post me to era with a lawyer on his person to hand out pre-poundage consent forms just yet. But I never think it’s early enough to get your kids into flirtation meditation. But what is flirtation meditation exactly? And since when is small talk at the bar considered fantasy material to get off your mind anytime?  Similar to Magic Johnson visualizing what no look passes he’d turn heads with while running the Showtime Lakers at the Forum on the fast break, flirtation meditation also helps you get into the mindset of picturing what scoring and balling means to you, that’s done with the intent of being the main floor general and driving force of your life instead of remaining a starless scrub on the bench who just goes through the motions of life like a passive, beaten down dog who only eats whatever scraps he’s lucky to get thrown his perpetually downer way.

My biggest regret growing up was letting my father bully me into disinviting my dear friend Coop from attending a Motely Crue concert during the Dr. Feelgood Tour because he deemed my new friend Ari a more deserving choice. I don’t remember the reason why pops pulled an Indian Giver move at the last minute, but it might have been because Coop was the fat kid and Ari wasn’t, I don’t know. All I do know, is that I sucked that much more than my dad for not sticking up for my friend by allowing my dad to bully me into bringing my friend Ari to the concert instead.  Another huge regret was letting my father bully me into selling all my basketball rookie cards to use as drinking money in Cancun during Spring Break my senior year in High School, without pushing back at forsaking my age of innocence for pass out money on the Booze Cruise. Understand, collecting basketball cards was a major labor of love for me as a kid, to the point where I somehow was able to amass enough loose change from my father’s change dish to afford almost every rookie card of those who played on the original Dream Team such as Patrick Ewing, Scottie Pippen, Charles Barkley and John Stockton. But dad was paying for my trip to Cancun, so how much leverage did I really have at the time? Could I threaten to burn my Bar Mitzah photo album if I refused? Still, in retrospect, I’m the one responsible for allowing my dad to push me into selling my basketball cards without ever taking the time to question whether passing out on a Booze Cruise off the coast of Cancun was more important than my cherished basketball card collection that gave me prideful ownership of my own.  So, in life, don’t always be so willing to let other’s map out what moves you make. Nobody remembers the King who financed the Columbus expedition into uncharted waters, but history sure as shit remembers who the fuck Christopher Columbus was. Christopher Columbus was the original old g new life commander, and nobody could take that away from thee, who gave birth to the rebranded Indigenous Day, motherfuckers.

So, what does bequeathing any sense of free will over to your dad have to with flirtation power and being a shallow, spineless friend with zero sense of loyalty who’s already moved on to the next best thing have to do with Christopher Columbus discovering the land of Fats Domino, Micky Mantle and John Huges comedies again?  Easy, Christpher Columbus refused to settle for what shit sandwich his superiors insisted he be content eating without ever daring to flirt with major changes of his own making to make on his own, his way, all the way. Sinatra lives before he was born, Challah, thank you very much.

Christopher Columbus flirted with change and made change his booty call, muse and go to top bitch to plow for deeper, unforeseen treasures never dreamed imaginable prior. In short, Columbus allowed himself the freedom to dream of a more adventurous, conquest heavy, freedom favoring life before taking such courageous, corrective action to live in order to avoid a subservient, gun-shy, die a thousand deaths before you die existence. Loving the one you’re with wasn’t enough for Columbus and shouldn’t be enough for you either, unless you’re the type who actually enjoys going on long walks with your significant other 10 years into your relationship already.

Pig Pen, the unofficial leader of the Grateful Dead and honorary member of the Hell’s Angels during the late sixties, who looked like Captain Morgan and the Sons of Anarchy had a baby, knew a thing or 2 about the importance of flirtation power. Pig Pen was also a powerful harpist, soul fused keyboardist and blues rap singer extraordinaire who had a summer fling with the gypsy queen of ramshackle soul Janis Joplin no less. It was 1967 at the Winterland Ballroom in San Franisco, a converted ice rink converted into a jam rock palace paradise, where Dickey Bets from the Allman Brother’s jammed out with Duane Allman with ferocious fluidity into uncharted, previously unexplored horizons as endless odes to spacious, soul piercing blue skies on the Stratocaster prior filled the air, when Jimi and Santana weren’t making endlessly beautifying a plus atmospheric space hurling blues rock of their own.

But on this night, Pig Pen turned on his love light on the crowd when he encouraged the gun-shy Deadhead stoners to snap out of their stoner stuck funk, when he bellowed with big man, flirtation power, “Get your hands out of your pocket, shake your love maker, and find somebody to love, so you won’t go home again lonely tonight. Love the one you’re with, that being yourself for life, by not letting that pretty girl with rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes pass along by without saying more than hi. In other words, get it while you can, you burnout bitches. Janis did. Flirtation power is your hands. So don’t squander it all just to trip face on tour with the band.”

And that’s why Pig Pen badgering his fan base into acting like more cocksure conquistadors for a change is the greatest flirting conductor story ever sold.

The End

Michael Kornbluth

Ballsy Better Hits

Bourdain and Joan Rivers walk into Heaven. Bourdain says, “How about a titty blast Joan?” Joan says, “I thought you’d never ask. Shit God, can you zap Bourdain’s foreskin off in a flash.”

Fuck Michael Jordan for calling Pippen selfish for daring to postpone knee surgery during the Last Dance. I’d make every day standing down day to, if I was being paid less than BJ Armstrong’s nanny.

If a boy is born 100 percent gay, does he suck down booby milk regardless, because he doesn’t know what his preferred oral fixation is yet?

Explaining Internet porn to my kids eventually. It wasn’t enough for Louie, it’s our last safety rail left. It’s what daddy does to squeeze in some me time alright.  

Coming to terms with my ex-social life pre 3 kids. It was the best of times whenever the condom broke from overexertion, as I yelled, “Woo, sex is fun again.”

I’m sacred of getting a vasectomy because I don’t want my ball sack to feel like Edward Scissor’s Hands face.

What Gen X parents understand. Snoop’s Dog’s wine tastes like mouthwash used in porn hood hell.



My son finds the Kama Sutra book in my office. And my son says, “My penis popped out opening it.” Daughter starts singing, “Irresponsible Daddy.” I say, “Matilda, ignore this book because it’s a recipe for Aids.” Daughters says, What’s Aid’s Daddy? I say, “A reason to become a Lesbian. You can take a licking and keep on ticking.”

Daughter gets the book Rebel Girls from Grandma for Hanukkah. Grandma asks, “Do you know who Hillary is?” Daughter says, ” 2-time loser alcoholic, Russian dossier financier, best-selling voodoo doll in Hatti year after year?”

My son is the best slacker alert of all time. Son asks, “Daddy, did you go on the Peloton today? I said, “I got COVID, and food poisoning form the Halal Guys. Son says, “Enough with the excuses daddy, “You’re worse than Hillary.”

Random parents always ask, “Why is your son, so happy, “I say, Funnier dad, happier, baby.” You want to compare kid photos buzzkill boomer? My son has more muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set of Growing Pains with Alan Thicke.”

Why do kids love back? Because you make them feel like the center of your universe, instead of the reverse. Kids love back because when you say I love you, it doesn’t sound manufactured hoarse, like you’re forcing the issue to avoid divorce.

A son’s love is a second chance at respectable redemption, because abstaining from bourbon at home does wonders for your complexion.



This is my younger brother getting defensive on the behalf our father because he’s the favorite despite making Hunter Biden come off as a serial slacker underachiever. Brother says, “Dad isn’t a narcissist.” I say, “You post driving selfies on Facebook. Your past the point of objective return bro.”

My 3rd kid is Chosen Curls Was Bound to Woo because chesty Italian MILFS hit on him constantly. One said, “When you get older, you’re going to have 3 girlfriends to juggle. I said, “If James Woods had this kid’s face, your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.”



This is my daughter playing marriage counselor again. “Pause Daddy, mama, got your point mid breath.”

Fact, kids don’t need to be dressed up in masks like Michael Jackson’s kids on holiday in Bahrain. Plus, we shouldn’t gut any more cities, and ruin more professional lives over stupid vaccine mandates over catching an itchy esophagus. COVID has 99 percent survival rate. So, stop treating COVID as if it’s death sentence like backend entry into the Dallas Buyer’s Club.

But masks are the new condoms, not. Only because I can’t cum in my wife wearing one either.

Anyone see the new Woody Allen doc on HBO, Crimes and Misdemeanors the Early Years? Woody actually kept naked pics of a 9-year-old Soon Yi in his top sock drawer. The only naked pic missing was Soon Yi crying on the cover of Time Life Magazine.

I’m so sick of seeing Cuomo’s ugly mug in the paper. He still looks like the Thing and Mama Fratelli from the Goonies had a baby. And Cuomo getting paid to write a book leadership is like Hitler getting paid to write a book on anger management or Woody Allen getting paid to write a book on hands off parenting or R Kelly getting paid to babysit the latest Kardashian out the womb.

The Italian Reptilian inside Cuomo, getting paid to write a book about leadership makes less sense than Kevin Durant getting picked to do a Ted Talk on how to block out the sound of cyberbullying.  

What does makes sense is making Carmelo Anthony the next spokesperson for Tampax Tampons already. Name another NBA player, responsible for stopping so much flowage.

Growing up, I wish LaVar Ball was my substitute coach dad because he wouldn’t have allowed my younger brother to lose his virginity before I did. LaVar Ball would’ve held house parties in my honor and only invite Stuck-Up Jenny from the block. 5 minutes in the party, LaVar Ball yells into Stuck Up Jenny’s ear, “The Yooho bottle doesn’t spin itself bitch.”

I stopped smoking weed because I felt like a moron answering my daughter’s question on it after I thought she was already asleep. Daughter asks, “Daddy, if God created the universe, then who created the universe?” I eventually come up with, “God went back in time, in a Time Machine made by Elon Musk. Daughter says, “That’s really convincing Daddy. Thanks for making me an atheist at 4.”

This is an impersonation of merger talk between Dr. Dre and Eminem. “Hey Slim Microsoft paid 3.6 billion for LinkedIn. Worrrrd, LinkedIn is lamer than ever yoh”

This is Russell Simmons denying rape allegations with Gayle King. “Read my lisp.” I didn’t rape any of those vengeful over the hill hos.”

This is Jeff Ross roasting Jay Z in the VIP room for Super Bowl Sunday. “Child Separation is overrated Jigga. Look how you turned out. Plus, if Coco never got separated from his family, he never would’ve become a mini–Los Lobos in the making.”

The Woman’s March on Washington was gross. All I saw was a whole lot of Rosie’s sporting a whole lot of chins. My mom asked if my daughter watched it. I said, “No mom, Matilda’s finally learning how to read. So, the last thing I need in my life is my daughter trying to make out one of those protest signs on TV and ask, “Daddy, what’ a pa, pa, Pussy Power? Is that a new show on Amazon Prime?”

At the grocery store, I comment to the lady behind me, “I wrote the book the Koshertarian Comedians. So, I can’t make it, but do you ever make shrimp wrapped in bacon? Or is your attitude, “I’ll dine at Morton’s for a post Burning Mask Party, maybe.” Italian NY mom laughs long time. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth