Tag: poetry

Manic Tuesday

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, humor, writing

The heat is cranked up in our office today. Or according to Kayne, the ideal oven temperature during the Holocaust.

Of course Black Friday was huge.
Its the only Recession special left.
And Chris Tucker has nothing left better to do.
Besides, make an cameo appearance in a Darren Aaronfsky film every 15 years if it doesn’t coincide with NBA all-star weekend. Assuming Dave Chapelle passed on the role 1st to defend Kayne in his latest and greatest Netflix special Praise Allah’s Gangsta Paradise, followed by Jesus Forgives No Bail Laws. Don’t front, they Jewish producers will stop counting their bitcoin to frisk Terry Crews at a media monopoly mixer at the drop of a dime.” So Terry, you know that thing you do with your tits. Would you put on a wig for that? I mean how many more Expendble films will Sly be allowed after sneaking Mel Gibson into Expendables 3? Ari Emannuel failed to Jew block that pic. He was too busy kissing Larry David’s ass when he wasn’t burning the master tapes that he owns for the Apprentice on top of a pile of MAGA hats at his private beach in Beggars Canyon to keep him from taking Curb Your Entusiasm to Newsmax. I better pat you down. Our Massad agent is taking a smoke break, relax. Terry Crews bolts the bash. Producer says, “Fine I’ll just use black Grinder to find an unvaccinated actor to Smash and Grab my ass.”

Michael Kornbluth

Got Rubbed?

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

Are some pedophiles harmless? Maybe, but you certainly question their self-control issues when the Mail Man rubs your 5 year old son’s Curls in front of you past 2 Mississippi. Especially, when your son Chosen Curls was bound to Woo looks like primo pin up material for Aryan Pedo Beat. I’ve never seen anything like this because I went to a Conservative Hebrew School growing up, that isn’t so pedo friendly progressive. The mail man rubbed my son’s head like it was a genie lamp, fully immersed in a Trance like state that’s a witness protection program for registered sex offenders. Who ratted out their dream maker priests stuck in Southie with nothing else better to do. Time came to a  screeching halt.  I wanted to step in between them but being an IT agency recruiter, I’m sensitive about cock blockers in HR. Plus, interrupting genie lamp wish time was new terrain for me. Eventually, I tug my kid away.  Because anything past 2 genie lamp rubs would’ve caused the Mail Man to go rub a dub douche in his pants. It didn’t matter though. By the blissed out look on his face you could tell his Christmas package came early. Afterwards, son says, “That was creepy Daddy. Does that mean Santa’s naughty list is fake news too?” Got rubbed? Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Fancy Feast Origin Story

by doitalldadyear, posted in fiction, humor, writing

All the cats from the 5 cat families had a meeting.

And Godmother Miss Kitty orders them to go on strike.

Fuck fair wages, we just want Fancy Feast for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Cat Ladies on the Upper West Side can get a second job as an Uber driver to offset Fancy Feast inflation fears.

Or else, it’s back to the back alleyways we stay.

Until broken cat ladies owners cough up the dough and pay.

Settling for shit stinks.

Resist that kink.

Forgoing fancy feasts makes me feel like a scuzzy cheat.

Like pretending not to detest hack breaths like Seth Meyers at your new job, which is a standing o feat.

Michael Kornbluth

New Work Banter

by doitalldadyear, posted in travel, work, writing

How are you doing today?

All of a sudden, I feel like Billy Madison reentering the workforce after being a stay-at-home dad during Covid.

Doing my best to block out how my wife tried to pack me a Quaker Dewy Chips bar for work.

But my father hates the term stay at home dad. He prefers Sheltered Bum.

Michael Kornbluth

Burn Baby Boomer Burn

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, storytelling, writing

Michael, thanks so much for allowing me to have a look at your book.

I really appreciate it. Unfortunately, it’s too similar to a project

that I’m already handling, so I’m going to pass

Sure, being a Christian book Lit agent, a book called The Koshertarian Comedians is too similar to project your already handling.

Yeah, and Evangelical Christians are auctioning off signed Trump bibles on Ebay to keep their coffers full.

What project are you handling that’s too similar Christian Lit Agent at large, ANTIFA eats Ben Shapiro’s Matzah Balls for Breakfast?

You don’t want to represent a writer who dares talk about election fraud and operation death speed through the clot shot, I get it.

Although, I can’t wait for Biden to cut of Baby Boomers from their social security checks to reduce our deficit and redistribute the rest of their remaining wealth for the endless stream of illegal immigrant dreamers in full.

Then, we’d have a 70 million baby boomer march.

Spike Lee dies from more than blood clots.

Breitbart can do a film about it with Gina Carano plays, the female Braveheart called, “Invasion Of The Social Security Card Snatchers”.

While yelling, “Told you they could take your social freedoms too, you smug elitist, ANTIFA excusing pieces of shit.”

Stepford Wives and MAGA moms will unite in D.C and show what a real insurrection looks like,

Fuck the hippie dippy chants of the 60’s.

Take away social security checks and redistribute them to their hired help on the cheap.

And the 2nd Woodstock resembles an innocuous warm art.

The ghost of JFK emerges from the flames and eggs them to burn baby burn like BLM’s spurned love child that just got booted off the Standard and Poor’s Index.

 JFK says, “Ask not what your country can do for you. But what you can do for Lennon and King who gave a peace chance.

It didn’t work out to well for them.

So, what the fuck are you going to do about it?

Besides, burn your draft card again and spit on Vietnam vets when they returned, you unpatriotic pussies.

You want to eclipse, the greatest generation, now’s the chance.

Or die a soul sellout fake news hippie like rest.

Because when you live in Arizona for 10 years away from your 3 grandchildren to work on yourself, and still haven’t visited the Grand Canyon.

You’re a fake news hippy.

Burn Baby Boomer Burn, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Stumped On Blockers

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

Why do kids today want puberty blockers again?

Growing up, puberty couldn’t come soon enough.

Especially when younger brother of 3 years hits puberty before you do, in addition to banging the 3 hottest girls in his class. That I tried to jerk off to at the time but couldn’t. One year for Hanukkah I get a book from my mother called the 12 Stages Of Puberty. I freak out immediately.

“Mom,why would you present me this book in front of my younger brother? Jonathan can play with himself whenever he wants?”

Mom says, “But you do that all the time upstairs with your GI-Joe figures.”

If I caught my son playing with his big sister’s Barbie Dolls, I’d think banging my GI Joe figure way past the acceptable age was incredibly gayer, especially while I had Gung Ho manhandle Cobra Commander like his gimpy bitch in Pulp Fiction.

“Welcome to my Terror Dome dick, Major Blood.”

“It’s Cobra Commander.”

“You wish bitch, bottoms away. Yoh Joe! Hasbro lives up your gaping anus hole.”

Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Parenting Genius

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

Parent Teacher conference was last night.  I open with, “You know Frank’s Pizzeria in town? Well, Frank just called Samuel our future President. What do you got?” Kindergarten Teacher, Mrs. Rudolph laughs long time. She adds, “He’s such a happy child.” I say, “Funnier dad, happier baby. You want a photo off old man? My son has more happy muscle memory to flex from than a young Leo on the set Growing Pains with Alan Thicke. Controlling our kids with comedy can make our kids great again, my 3 fuss free kids’ 90 percent of time are living proof of it.”

Mrs. Rudolph’s titillated esophagus secretes more laughter to fill the air, which feels like long lasting Lock Jaw Love in return.

Lock Jaw Love lasting, Challah, Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Banking On Boring

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, humor, writing

What kind of an asshole has a kid today at 46 years old?

What do you say to that kid when we start pledging our allegiance to the CCP?

Freedom of Speech had a nice run, but Trumpy Poo Tits made too many derisive nicknames on Twitter.

So, Nancy Denture Breath Pelosi and other Swamp Thing hostages in Congress gave George Soros and friends in China the green light to release the Franken Bat on MAGA country to ensure we the people never meant jack shit again.

And today, I’d be thrown in jail if I try to prevent you from cutting your dick off before you bloom under your Fruit of the Looms.

Shit, who am I kidding.

Kids don’t wear underwear anymore.

The Commando look went viral when Little Nas became our next President.

Open borders rule everything around us now.

Homeland Security was so weapons of mass destructions years.

Times Square in the 70’s is considered good times now.

At least then, you didn’t have to wear a mask to jerk off in a theater like a moderate Muslim trans wanting to squeeze right in with the crowd.

But I’ll be 66 when you graduate college, which isn’t that bad.

Who cares if my wife has to microdose to make you interesting if you take after me.

Banking on boring, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Year Without Beer Film Premise

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, psychology, writing

I never liked my old drinking buddies enough to seek out their company sober.

I’ve never gotten bombed with new buds in my life come to think of it.

Plus, the one relationship I rekindled that I care most about maintaining is a college bud whose been sober for 15 years.

I still like my gummies, but the idea of meeting up with old drinking buds for drinks offers less appeal than saying grace whenever my mother-in-law launches into a grace at our own Jewish observing house that sports a Big Mouth Moses Nutcracker to freak out fiercely protective gentiles at large in November before expecting a complete monopoly of Christmas decorations for December in full and the following 3 lazy stash away months that follow.

Year Without Beer, is shaping up nicely, my belly too, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth