Not Working LinkedIn 

I hate the #OPENTOWORK hashtag badge on LinkedIn.

It feels like white-collar panhandling.

It’s the worst networking innovation since Meetups for out-of-work Cup Scout leaders.

And who chose that puke moss green color?

It’s not an inviting sea foam green or handsome conjuring IVY.

It looks like some target sign that appears in Predator’s headset.

Plus, the dark olive-green badge drains your profile pic of all-electric edge.  

Slap that #OPENTOWORK badge on Gweneth Paltrow’s pic and still evokes stained Avocado pits.

Mug shots offer more color contrast.

It looks like a sign you wear around your head in Game of Thrones while having apple pits thrown at your head. Shame on you, LinkedIn, shame. 

Badges should scream earned respectability like one on a racehorse for winning the Derby.

Does the #OPENTOWORK badge feel like a prominent brand plug to you?

For me, it screams, please wait to swipe past my profile.

Good recruiters don’t need permission to make the 1st move on candidates. They’re not sweating the prospect of being charged with unwanted aggression through LinkedIn Recruiter. 

Also, if the candidate is out of work due to recent layoffs in the tech space, isn’t the #OPENTOWORK badge option rubbing it in?

If my future wife wore an #OPENTONEWLOVE badge on her shirt when I approached her on Barry Diller’s balcony, it would’ve stripped the moment of all spontaneous charged lift.

“Hi, I’m Joshua; I work for CitySearch. I couldn’t help but notice your #OPENTONEWLOVE badge on your shirt. In other words, yes to flirty.”

Yes, to flirty, Challah. Thank you very much.

Your Favorite Headhunter Writer, 

Joshua Kornbluth 

8 Million Butterflies

It’s your fault if you don’t make Hanukkah more festive than Christmas. I get it. Most likely Jesus himself who celebrated Hanukkah with his apostles, even invented Christmas to make the holiday season feel more festive. When the strongest drink offered was Manischewitz before eggnog was invented. Spinning Beastie Boys records while blaring Intergalactic planetary to honor the Aliens in helping his fellow Hebrews build the Great Pyramids wasn’t a thing yet. Can’t all the Jews, Muslims and Christians unite on the 1st night of Hanukkah on the premise behind Home Depot never being erected in the Israelites’ honor? Growing up, I’d push my dad to honor my mom’s Christian side after she converted. I say, “Dad, mom dumped Jesus to marry into your putzy DNA. The least you can do is let mom throw up a tree. Dad says, “The only time a Jew from the Bronx would get a Christmas Tree is if he planned to convert it into a tricked-out Treehouse and flip it for a profit.”

Finally, one year, my year my dad budges and allows my mom this pathetic, sorry excuse for a bonsai tree relegated to the side patio covered in cobwebs that got less touches than a St. James Bible at a bath house colony in Pronvincetown. But seriously, can’t you see Jesus recognizing the festive limitations of Hannukah after receiving one carved dreidel too many? Jesus says, “Thanks for the Dreidel, Judas. I’m glad that my carpentry session on dreidel building 101 at The 92 Street Y paid off so handsomely. But why don’t we make Channukah a more drawn-out celebration that’s ten times festive by celebrating my birthday for the entire month of December after Hannukah.”

Matthew says, “Yeah, but Jesus wouldn’t Hannukah then be considered a forgettable warm act, that gives you ball balls just thinking about it.  You were born my immaculate conception, right? Yet by the time your 4 brothers James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon were born, the magic was gone baby, baby gone.”

Jesus replies, “Yeah, but I had a vision in desert last night about a future comedian named Billy Crystal bemoaning in his autobiography, Baby Boomer Arrogance Never Dies, about how Jews bend over backwards to adopt Christmas traditions, so they don’t feel so old world clingy Jewy. Nobody cares anymore about the rocking band of Maccabees reclaiming the Great Temple of Solomon because they’re not the polytheistic whores like the rest. Taylor Swift is the number recording artists in the future, and she grew up on a Christmas Tree farm for Christ’s sake.” Hillary Hammer Time Cankles strikes again, Challah. Thank you very much.

Matthew asks, “What’s a Christmas Tree Jesus? “Jesus says, “A camouflaged cross, but it’s going to be tricked out in lights that run on electricity, which will outshine any burn a mile of minute candles on a Menorah.  Any Jewish record executive would jam a pinecone up their ass if they promised Taylor Swift more inclusiveness gayness spirit to be produced on her next Christmas album.

Now, I used to get very tense about the mention of Jesus, but not anymore, since my invention of a new tradition, Jesus Fridays, which allows me to break my Koshertarian diet of the past 2 years and counting. Understand, I’ve been following the Koshertarian Diet for 2 years now. Finally, I’ve allowed myself the inclusion of shellfish for a special occasion because who cares about eating soulless shellfish? Plus, Jesus, the original super Jew rocked the Pescatarian diet. So, if it’s good enough for Jesus, then it’s good enough for me. I also like the idea of acting less like an all-knowing exalted prick. And celebrating Jesus Fridays inspires me to connect with my fellow Gentile like a retired fireman who runs the best deli in Westchester in North White Plains. Outside my new office, after just resurrecting my IT Headhunter Writer career. Where I’m getting paid to creatively sell job opportunities for Software Engineers, digital designers, and Information Technology workers in general, whose job prospects have more legs than Lieutenant Dan. I like Jesus Fridays because it divorces me from perpetuating any messianic complex of my own, which screams, the original version of the Bible is better than second part that I’ve barely dabbled in for the most part. And I’m tired of being that old timer Gen X guy that just bemoans new age Simpsons episodes as woke filler compared to season 1 through 7 without even dabbling in the newer versions to make any ultra judgy informed decisions of my own. Like when I saw Juno, ages ago and got angry about how everyone was hailing the hardcore hilarity of it, when I saw Juno as nothing more than a poor girls’ Jeanne Garafalo. I wrote a blog about the movie being overhyped, yet I told myself afterwards, don’t be a critic, hack breath like the rest. It’s way better to originate, then merely pontificate. So, I wrote mini porn parody that I turned into my 1st screenplay, Juno Does Williamsburg, later named Brooklyn Blogger. Edgeless titles suck pinecone dick, Challah. Thank you very much.

At the same time, I’ve worn Jewish pride on my sleave for the past 5 years and change as host of the Do It All Dad Year Podcast, responsible for banging out comedy records such as Big Mouth Moses, Koshertarian Offensive, and the Pig-Headed Jew, Challah. Thank you very much. I’ve also written and published The Great American Jew Novel, which Diane Sullivan from the Midwest Book Review described as a “Hilarious exploration of New York Comedy and Culture.” Which proves that my material wasn’t too overtly Jewy pushy annoying for the Heartland’s tastes. And for the past 2 months, I’ve renamed my Do It All Dad Year Podcast, the Shabat Shalom Ramble, in honor of my dad accusing me of never being on point, despite him proclaiming 5 years ago before I launched my podcast, how nobody cares about my political opinions anyway, 45 thousand page views on my Do It All Dad Year blog later.

 Well, I haven’t read the news since Dominion Machines won. And I don’t see Kari Lake recruiting Linda Hamilton as her VP to take down the new Sky Net For good. Plus, how much more can we stomach talk of Alex Jones being bad Santa versus John Fetterman being a burnt out offering of the Democratic party who looks like the Good Will Grinch who showers in Bong Water. So, more than ever 3 million Jews in the US, according to Alexa, which is most likely an inflated claim, like Antifa still being nothing more than an idea in Patton Oswalt graphic novels, about a gang of wannabe Punisher vigilantes, in hoodies, could use some miraculous ways to modernize Hannukah and make it more festive than Christmas than Google ever would. Because I want other Jewish American Dads to derive extended Nachas from pronounced Jewish pride from their offspring when they proclaim to Daddy how they get butterflies in their stomach every day before each night of Hanukah begins, which was the opposite of my experience growing up. Getting a Pinball Machine one tear one year for Hannukah was unbelievable, despite being woken up every night prior to Hannukah because dad couldn’t resist the urge to play with it himself and break it in personally. Which made my younger brother and I believe that Aliens from Space Invaders were raining Gama Rays on top of our house eight nights prior to Hannukah because my dad was making his best Hannukah gift all about his own self-enrichment over ours. Still, my dad was raised an only child, so you can’t blame him for occupying his inner loneliness in his forties the week before Hanukah, because playing Dreidel by himself, gets played out faster than trying jerk off with your left in honor of shortest-lived New Year’s resolution yet. Which only leads to more played out blue ball’s devastation. So, here’s 8 ways to start making Hannukah more festive than Christmas. There are 14 million Jews worldwide. So, if this post goes viral, my Hannukah wish of 8 million butterflies can come true. And you can’t knock the miracle of mitzvah moves, Challah. Thank you very much.

  1. Understand, I haven’t collected paychecks in 8 whole years till this past December after resuming my IT Headhunter Career, where I can drop lines like, “Michael Kornbluth here, Recruiting Manager for Digital Unicorns USA. With a last name like Kornbluth, I specialize in mind control, in Kayne’s mind. So, when my wife tells me, “Don’t get carried away with getting the kids gifts this year for Hannukah.” I fire back with, “New tradition kids, when you get 3 Big Kahuna gifts on the 1st night of Hannukah. You each declare loud and proud, “Hannukah Hatrick, Challah” I add, “So, in this instance, go woke yourself babe, Gentile Grinch.” Challah. Thank you very much.
  2. 2nd way to make Hanukkah more festive is to start the tradition of Hannukah Halloween. And force your son to dress up like Van Halen with a pack of candy cigarettes in hand. Who cares if your mini air guitar appendage looks like an overdose at the limelight waiting to happen. Party Monster spirits live, Challah. Thank you very much.
  3. 3rd way to make Channukah more festive is to play Dreidel for Bitcoin versus more fake news Gelt. But explain the rules in humorous ways. For example, when the dreidel lands on Hey, you sing, “Hey, hey Paula, I want to marry you. Now give me half and full custody of the kids. I don’t want you coughing your natural immunity all our kids anymore, you anti-vaxer piece of shit.” Challah, thank you very much. Shin, means put it in, think Cardi B on a slow Tuesday. Nun, means nothing, goonish. Remember our routine at the Deli Matilda, when you could only put 2 words together? What did Tyson Chandler give the Knicks Daddy? And you’d say,” Bookpus, Boopku. And Gimmel means, give me everything because we control all the blockchain technology, Federal Reserve and all the banks in the North Pole too. Son says, “Samuel, don’t even think of stealing my bitcoin, or I’ll sell your pure blood on the Dark Web along with your vintage Cobra Commander with the blue mask and eyes holes in it that looks like Gung Ho’s bottom bitch in Robot Chicken remake of Pulp Fiction.” 8 million butterflies Challah, thank you very much.
  4. 4th way to make Hannukah more festive than Christmas is to play the Adam Sandler Channukah song on Vinyl backwards only to hear the latest and greatest chorus addition, “Linda Sarsour, not a fan.” Challah. Thank you very much.
  5. 5th way to make Hannukah more festive than Christmas is to Jewish guilt Software Engineers at Amazon into seriously questioning the state of their moral compass by sending them LinkedIn Inn-Mail messages through LinkedIn Recruiter that read, “Tell Bezos to make the Hebrew Hammer available on Amazon prime already despite Florida and antisemitism being so hot right now.” 8 million butterflies, Challah. Thank you very much.
  6. 6th way to make Hannukah more festive than Christmas is to sign your kids up for art classes that teach your kids how make masked morons made out of clay for fuck the CDC day. 8 million butterflies, Challah. Thank you very much.
  7. 7th way to make Hannukah more festive than Christmas, permit your kids the freedom to pile drive mommy’s white Guido, non-denominational tree while dressed as Mr. Wonderful for Channukah Halloween instead. 8 million butterflies, Challah. Thank you very much.
  8. 8th way to make Hannukah more festive than Christmas is to launch your Burning Mask Party already, for eight glorious nights while throwing some of mama’s Gnomes on top because they look like Santa’s burn out Trust Fund Babies on Social Security. What’s another burnout offering after making Goodwill Grinch Fetterman the new face of the Democratic Party. So, what difference does it make? 8 million butterflies, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Top 10 New Work Intros

  1. Joshua Kornbluth here, Recruitment Manager for the Human Edge. Consider me a less annoying matchmaker than Kris Jenner or the sloppy third Kardashian sister.
  2. Joshua Kornbluth here, Recruitment Manager for the Human Edge. I’m like Match.com without the doctored photo. It’s not how you met but who you meet, that matters, right?
  3. Joshua Kornbluth, Recruitment Manager for the Human Edge. I’m a professional flirt for a living. Think Vince Vaughn in Swingers minus the SAG card.
  4. Joshua Kornbluth calling. Recruitment Manager for the Human Edge. I’m a poor man’s Tony Robbins who doesn’t overcharge for my life coaching expertise.
  5. Joshua Kornbluth here, Recruitment Manager for the Human Edge. I bring dead resumes to life like an EMT worker who moonlights as Dr. Frankenstein on LinkedIn Pulse.
  6. Joshua Kornbluth here, I’m a Recruiter for the Human Edge. I’m not an edgeless putz or else I’d still working for Robert Half.
  7. Joshua Kornbluth here, I’m an IT recruiter who specializes in mind control in Kayne’s mind.
  8. Joshua Kornbluth here. I’m an IT recruiter whose been talent hooking since Y2K. So, I wasn’t born with a vape pen in my mouth yesterday.
  9. Joshua Kornbluth here. Before I launched my IT staffing career. I worked as the number one assistant for Moses. Because I didn’t complain about my developing carpel tunnel after transcribing the Torah into stone.
  10. Hi Mary, Joshua Kornbluth here. I’m an IT Recruiter who wrote The Great American Jew Novel. So, you know I’m not your middle of the road schmuck in a headset either.

Michael Kornbluth

Stand-Up Staffer

Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth lived for play dates with her best friend from Columbia Shannon, who turned her on to Shakira despite her Do It All Dad insisting, at first, that “Shakira is a belly-dancing lounge act for Saudi royals on holiday,” only for his daughter to fire back, in her standard hot pitch, effortless fashion, “Actually, Shakira is the most downloaded artist of all time, and those stats don’t lie, Dada.”

             Feeling good about being dejected in the presence of such all-natural sales star ease, Do It All Dad admitted defeat with playful, funny man charm by wrapping up a conversation he regretted getting into (for the most part) by now, saying back, “I wish Mama’s hips had concealed their ever-widening reality, already.”

            Do It All Dad also operated an IT staffing business, Stand Up Staffer, from home, placing front end developers, graphic designers, and now-UX designers throughout the Island of Manhattan. On Stand-Up Staffer’s business card was a long stage hook like the one they would use at the Apollo on Amateur Night; except in this pic, a bearded Millennial Mouseketeer stick figure hipster in glasses is getting hooked off into the loving, saving, life-enriching arms of Stand-Up Staffer.            The slogan for Stand-Up Staffer on the card states, “Been Talent Hooking Since Y2K,” before LinkedIn thought that leadership posts by Marc Cuban would make Jack Welch shake in his penny loafers, made out of Leprechaun gold teeth.

            Do It All Dad was also a part-time, open mike comedian in both LA and Manhattan before Matilda was born, so his daughter, Singing Rose Kornbluth (otherwise known as Grace In Motion) was bound to absorb her father’s always-on, constantly pitching leanings.

            When Matilda was only two, she could only string two words together, so her Do It All Dad would mold around those limitations, understanding the always-relevant adage “less is more,” especially when you’re in the pursuit of hooking a hiring IT Director’s interest in hearing about a hot-to-trot candidate over the phone out of the freaking blue, without making any contact prior or delivering a fumble-free first joke difference-maker, which determines whether you score a semi-respectable set with enough momentous, kickstarting oomph at another open mike in the East Village with five other struggling, aspiring stand-up comics stuck in their heads, rehearsing punch lines bound for comedic glory compared to your hack stabs at being professionally funny for five minutes straight at a time.

            Still, Matilda would always shine in the scripted lines her dad gave Matilda to score laughs with, at two, so she grew up trusting her Do It All Dad’s stand-up sales wisdom even more each day, yeah, yeah, yeah.

            Do It All Dad’s favorite routine at the deli back in the day, when Matilda was only two, was, “Hey, Matilda, what did Tyson Chandler give the Knicks?” And Singing Rose Matilda Kornbluth would take the nookie out of her mouth and say, “Bupkis, Daddy. Bupkis.”  

            When Matilda was five, her Do It All Dad enrolled his five-year-old in acting camp despite prolonged protests from Mama stating, with huffy, annoyed disgust, “But she can’t even read yet.”

            Do It All Dad snaps back with, “We’ll watch Rocky 2 together, for pointers.” Then, the next summer, Matilda co-stared in fifteen or more commercials uploaded on to YouTube for his Standup Staffer business, which later led to her Do It All Dad scoring a retainer staffing fee to place a VP of UX Design for a new food tech startup, FOODIEFRIEDNFORLIFE, based in the NOHO section of Manhattan. It billed itself as a lunch matching service for single working professionals who wanted to network with new business contacts over a shared ribeye for two, knowing that your vegetarian girlfriend never would.

            Plus, you could write off these pricy, big-deal-conjuring lunches as a new business development expense if you worked in B2B sales, account management for Madison Avenue, or as an Associate Editor for a major publishing business to woo literary studs on the rise who weren’t complete social spaz attacks off the page, who exuded more than 0.0 charisma off the page.

            Matilda’s favorite commercial for Standup Staffer included the one called Blonde Power, where she plays a star UX Designer who’s worked for twenty companies in five years, stating, “I fall out of love easily, like Trump.”

            Then, when asked why she decided to dye her hair blonde, Blonde Ambition says, “Guy software engineers prefer blonds, to feel smarter and superior. They’re nerds, remember? Plus, only ugly girls go to coding boot camp.”

            So, Matilda was no stranger to performing and selling as she started the 4th grade, especially knowing that her old-school go-to line (whenever her dear dada used to pick up her from daycare in Scarsdale Village after working for the man Robert Half in Manhattan) was, “Can I get a treat, Daddy? I was fuss-free today—fuss-free.”

             In short, Do It All Dad played a huge role helping transform his daughter into a supremely confident, effortlessly charismatic, logic-loaded, never too overtly wordy, dronish sales machine. As a result, it pissed off Matilda to no end when the Girl Scouts Of America denied her entry after se admitted to marching in the annual Israel Day Parade with her dear dada because it was insensitive to Arab Scouts in their troop (despite their alleged secular, wholesome girl-nextdoor leanings; despite there being a Planned Parenthood abortion referral fee patch in the works since full term abortions in New York State became Kosher in the empire state’s eyes under Governor Cuomo’s all-knowing watch, otherwise known as a cold-blooded Italian Reptilian, inside).

            Matilda fumes to her best friend Shannon over the phone about being denied more primo face time with her friend through the Girl Scouts Of America, saying, “Israel is not the country who fires rockets into their neighbor’s backyards, expecting nothing more than an Edible gift basket in return. Hamas terrorists in charge of their government are supposed to be trusted partners in peace, eight days a week, my chest.”

            Matilda’s also admitting to ‘Dude Looks Like A Lady’ being her most liked song on Spotify didn’t warm her up to the Girl Scouts Of America, either, especially since the Boy Scouts started admitting girl men like Juno into their ranks, too.

            Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth was intent on revenge, now, for being denied more face time with her best friend in the universe, and launches Standup Sitter Club, an accelerated sales camp for kids which unmasks the power of cold calling for those interested in scaling their babysitting business to the next level. 

            Because of that, the head PTA mom calls for a sit down with Stand Up staffer who runs his own IT staffing firm from home, who gave his daughter the idea of recruiting burnt-out goodie-two-shoes from the Girl Scouts Of America in the first place.   Matilda started Cold Calling Camp seminar lectures with lines such as, “Smartphones Don’t Come With Balls To Make Cold Calls For You” and “You spent enough time on your ass doing more remote learning from home. The first rule of the Standup Sitter Club is: no chairs when cold calling.”

            Now the head PTA mom in charge of her local Girl Scouts chapter calls Stand Up Staffer to demand a sit down, threatening to report his daughter to the better business bureau for unfair recruitment practices, since Matilda’s Cold Calling Camp For Kids Camp depleted her group dry by offering commission-heavy rip profits.

            ‘Babysitter’ sounds so passé. Matilda’s stable network of enterprising babysitters were rebranded on LinkedIn as Creative Play Consultants.

            Stand Up Staffer meets the head PTA mom at a local coffee shop and says, “You can’t knock my daughter’s Cold Calling Camp For Kids. The only way to get ahead in life is to cold call yourself into stranger’s hearts.

            I wasn’t introduced to my wife of ten years through a friend. I didn’t swipe her over to my lap at a new cider bar opening in the east village. I didn’t overcome my zero confidence, shyness stutter from a fancy internship connection to the agent training program at the Creative Artists Agency.      I didn’t break through the soul-destroying, mentally crippling door of dependence on my parents to pay rent for my apartment in West Hollywood through being bequeathed some cushy IT Account Manger role to wine and dine IT Directors  who worked for wine distributor behemoth Southern Wine and Spirits, to secure more job orders to fill, without having to throw my balls on the line in the service of winning over the trust of new clients through sheer audacity and relentless, houndish delight while minimizing my sprinklings of spamish overtones until I became more polished inbetween.”

            Stand Up Staffer adds, “More importantly, your daughter Maya is making money at Standup Sitters, earning hefty referral babysitter fees up the wazoo.

            “Also, let’s not depreciate your daughter’s increased ability to listen better due to her hardcore cold calling camp training. That makes it easier for her to bear drawn-out conversations with you with more emotionally present awareness and concern the next time you start moaning on about your immovable belly rolls three kids later; or how life offers rapidly depleted meaning once your daughter outgrows the need for Mama’s nurturing hugs as you pop open another boozy mommy seltzer again, for head-lightening relief.”  

            PTA mom says, “If I can’t knock the cold call, then can I hit you in the face really hard, once? It might turn you on, actually.”

Michael Kornbluth