Chap. 25 Persian Puss Fever (New End)

 

Chapter 25

Persian Puss Fever

Joshua had a very successful friend from Edgemont High School, who now lived in SOHO on West Broadway, clearing almost 400K from doing ad sales for companies at the ideal time in their maturation such as FX, when they became the new air apparent to HBO with smash, genre bending hits such as the Shield and It’s Always Sunny, which he revered as the most dynamic comedy to advance the art form post Curb without having to be overtly Jewy one iota in the process. His friend, also a groomsmen at his wedding, was the superior basketball player in high school, who he’d battle hard in games of one on one basketball and in legendary games of HORSE made a splashy move to the city of angels and worked for Hulu, selling advertising to all the dream factories in Century City and Burbank, before Harvey Weinstein’s wife finally divorced him to focus on her lifetime battle with amnesia. 3 kids later, Joshua
didn’t get out much to see his old school high school bud, but if they did connect over the phone, making his wife jealous at how much rollicking, laugh producing fun he was having without her, he’d always end the conversation the same way every time with his old school basketball bud in arms, “Bang a Persian girl for me already, because I can’t.”

The 1st time Joshua got sexually charged around a mountainous chesty, pursed lipped, dark tan, olive smooth skinned, slightly broad shouldered, bootylicious Persian minx was during interoffice meetings with one his IT recruiter agency colleagues who worked in Westwood, California on Wilshire down a couple of blocks for the nearby Boylston Group. She had graduated Georgetown University and was the brightest, bustiest yet classiest, highest biller in her team who placed mostly Oracle DBA’s among various Internet startups through Southern California by far. Joshua learned not to place too much value on someone’s undergrad college education but he was a tad more east coast elitist back then, and knew Georgetown wasn’t accepting any dummies, so him being a tad of a college snob, touting the Bachelor pedigree degree of his past summer wind love Katy who graduated Duke in 3 years as a double major, so this Persian beauty in his eyes, who wasn’t petite by any stretch of the imagination, who was a brainy busty sweetheart rainmaker on top, turned him on longtime. If Joshua had any major balls back in the day, he would’ve made a move on her, but upper management told their naive, cultish minions getting jiggy with it with their fellow coworkers was a fireable offense, and Joshua was finally enjoying being off his parents nip of dependence, so he never did. It was only after he got fired, did Joshua learn the rule was fake news bullshit, and managers were banging co-workers at will left and right, but at least he developed a modicum of character building self-discipline in the process. The Bhagavad Gita lists the 3 portals to hell being lust, greed and anger and at the time Joshua wasn’t even aware of being fooled into passing on such a prime opportunity to pounce on his 1st Persian bombshell beauty, so he didn’t have too much to be enraged about in the process either. Still, Joshua had one month on the job at nearby Remington International, where he did deals with Coke O Cola, Zenith National Insurance and some obscure Internet startup Creative Planet, placing a gazillion Unix Administrators, earning his firm almost 100K in placement fees and a seat at the all-stars dinner at the Sunset Room. Which made Joshua feel like a hot shit for the 2nd time in his life after his 1st sales raise dinner at Morton’s on Beverly Hills, inhaling a porter house for 2 and shrimp wrapped in Bacon, thinking, life doesn’t get better than this on top of what the fuck what was my dad thinking, denying me exposure to what scrumptious heavenly sales promotion dinners awaited as a result of sheer hard work and self-possessed determination, despite at the time being the only schmuck in a headset to graduate from a top communication school in the country with a career crippling stutter. Which Joshua eventually overcame, through relentless, repetitious, around the clock cold calling heavy, exposure therapy.

Joshua’s escalating, all consuming, fixated desire to mount the scrumptious, highly inhalable, star Persian IT agency recruiter reached peak interest on their drive to work together the morning after their All Star Sales award dinner at the Sunset Room, that she attended of course. Because today, he wasn’t driving to work in his used yet cherished hunter green Honda Accord but in her BMW,l but she was still only 22 max, so this means she came from money also, schwing. Never before had any sexy gal Joshua fantasized about titty blasting had offered a leather interior BMV to drive, so he knew the sexually charged interest was mutual. But as Robert Dinero says in the movie Copland, starring the holy trinity of actors Harvey Keitel, Ray Liotta and Sly Stallone, “I gave you a chance and you blew it.”

It was impossible not think of hot to trot love, at the Polo Lounge Restaurant on 5th Ave, as Joshua was surrounded by a myriad of oil paintings of mo-money making star race horses like Man O War and other Arabian race horse beauties, as Joshua also took in the tall, slender, sculpted, high cheek bone pronounced, Persian beauty, Ester has he continued to scroll, through the menu, trying to decide what limited Kosher items to choose from on the menu during their 1st power lunch together. Joshua get’s his Kosher inspired rant underway, “Ralph Lauren, baby, I love your overpriced Polo shirts because they’re sturdy, classier alternatives to schmatta Tommy Hilfiger wigger polos, weird sized numbered, instantly shrinkable, Lacoste shirts and Vineyard Vine shirts because I’d rather dress for old school, scrappier, Bronx bred, pre-smart phone success. Still, what the fuck were you thinking, making your marquee sandwich, a corned beef sandwich with swiss on marbled rye, knowing pastrami rubbed brisket is ten times more soul tantalizing scrumptious 8 days a week? Also, marble rye, are you freaking kidding me? Was pure rye too overtly Jewy for your country club, Gentile loving tastes?” Esther, the star executive search owner of Silicon Alley replies, “You’re too funny Joshua. How are you not working?” Joshua replies, “Because God has a wicked, sense of humor. But I appreciate the invite here, to be surrounded in such a posh, clubby, wannabe be a rich gentile setting.” Esther says, “I feel like an unwanted outsider in here also, for what it’s worth. I don’t care that Giselle is sitting next to Tom Brady one table over.” Joshua says, “Eli Manning is a bigger pimp daddy than Tom Brady for ruining his shot at perfection. So, Tom Brady is married to Giselle, big deal, she’s 80 in model years. Also, why isn’t Terry Bradshaw even mentioned among the best quarterbacks ever? He won 4 rings and never lost in the Super Bowl once. Plus, he was also known for airing it out. Fine, that much he shares in common with Brady. I read some article recently about how Tom Brady did some comedy sketch on Netflix about Patriots owner Bob Kraft’s fondness for happy endings, denying the jokes were about him. Because his ex-owner could never be guilty of exploiting underage sex trafficking, because he only insists on using older happy enders who weren’t yanked off the boat yesterday.” Esther finishes spitting out more mouthfuls of laughter and says, “I’m an LA girl, born and raised, so I’m a Raiders fan myself, but I don’t care for Tom Brady’s personality all too much either. He also dumped his pregnant ex actress wife, the moment he fell in love with Giselle’s uppity, lispy snatch, just saying.” Joshua says, “I’m glad you found my contact info on LinkedIn like any Executive Recruiter with a brain would. I love the fact how you became a consummate rainmaker in the startup tech recruitment agency game, I was much more of a trickeler.” Esther says, “I envision mucho dinero money shots in your future Joshua.” Joshua says, “Well, I do have this idea for a food truck. Would you know of any super angel investors you can get me a meeting with? My vision is to create a food truck, which sells the Do It All Dad Hero, which is a Kosher rib eye, cheese steak, with a mock cheese wiz substitute. And I’d launch a viral bash campaign against the Hallall guys, about who would you rather submit your cheese steak urges to, all mighty God or all the blood thirsty, rape happy, throw gays off roof tops preaching Allah? I read on Chowhound.com, Hallall guys have to pray to Allah, before their ritual slaughtering, versus Kosher slaughtered cows, who don’t use the stun gun, who unlike the Hallall guys, aren’t required by law to give any praise worthy shout outs to a God who instructs his true believers to treat woman like disposable bee keeper punching bags.” Esther says, “I agree with everything you’re saying and would recommend softening your viral attack campaign against the Hallall guys just a bit. Still, I love your fierce, fiery, fighting style. You’re more Bronx bred scrappy than you think big boy.”

Joshua spots Spike Lee waiving his hand up in the air causing a scene in front of his white privilege waiter, clearing 400 a day before 2 easy and excuses himself from the table. “I’ll be right back Ester. I want to pay homage to the Knicks jilted mascot Spike Lee.”  Joshua hovers tall over Spike Lee’s table, only learn he’s dining with Chris Rock. “Hey, Spike, sorry to hear about the Garden not letting you into employee entrance way. I’m positive it had nothing to do with your Resist This shirt, or your portrayal of all Jews in your films not being such fine people in the face of your insistence of sucking off Jew demonizing Farrakhan for all his signed bow tie collection is worth.  How does it feel knowing, still your President, Donald Trump directed the construction of Wollman Rink under budget and ahead of schedule, knowing you couldn’t do the same for Malcolm X? Malcolm X was bisexual but why didn’t you portray that in your film Spike? I thought you were all about celebrating the beautiful, strong, totality of the black man inside and out? And thanks for giving your impressionable brothers the encouraged permission to riot and burn a second generation pizza joint to the ground because they didn’t care for fake news, underprivileged Chuck D from yenta breath country in Long Island, rapping about how Elvis was no role model of yours, but Chuck Berry installing a secret female bathroom cam in his Missouri restaurant was Kosher in your book because they were just stupid white bitches, who you should’ve know better, right Spike?” Chris Rock says, “You’re move Spike. I don’t know who this crazy ass cracker is but is shit talking game is tight.” Joshua adds, “Huge fan Chris, I stopped watching the Knicks after they traded KP for a box of Cotton Candy.” But the garden faithful like yourself know deep down Uni will fly high again. And tell your boy Stephen A his take on his why they traded KP was lame. KP’s brother agent made Dolan uncomfortable because he reminded him too much of the Russian gangsters in 25th hour? Now, that was a great film you directed Spike. Positive it had nothing to do with you not writing the screenplay, the book was based on. Last, Chris, you don’t believe KP raped a neighbor in his Manhattan apartment building, the day he tore his ACL, do you? Do you see Harvey Hair Clumps Weinstein trying to rape Wonder Woman played by Gal Gadot only one good leg?” Chris Rock replies, “Who are you again? And why have I never seen you the Cellar before ever?” Spike interjects, “Rock, I love your like a brother from another mother, but if you suck off his big headed Jew’s ego for one more second, our friendship is over, you dig?”  Joshua throws down his Do It All Dad Year Podcast business card for Rock on the table and says “Call me some time Chris. I’d love to write a movie or create a new TV show with you some time. Oh, and congrats on your 40 million stand up deal with Netflix because the white man, can no longer get away with paying the great Chris Rock with only one rib.” Joshua heads back to his table with Esther triumphant, after showcasing his Bronx bred scrappy, fighter instincts, back, back in a New York groove once more.

The Cape Cod Interloper

Chapter 19

The Cape Cod Interloper

Joshua was never intimidated by wealth or overly impressed with Ivy league degrees, mainly because he knew at least 4 kids who got into Harvard out of his high school graduating class of 99 students, and the 4th kid, mush mouth, Sanket Bulsara, only got in through class petition only, despite him boasting the lumbering, personality of a sinus challenged Mr. Snuffleupagus. Al Gore, another Harvard Alum, couldn’t even beat W by a wide margin because he couldn’t even be bothered to project an aura of patriotic, God loving sincerity without barreling into his portly yet pretty faced wife for a kiss more at the Democratic National convention more forced than Michelle Obama’s befuddled look of appreciation after Melania gave her a beautiful, turquoise, Tiffany gift box at the White House on Inauguration day with the number of her hair stylist inside, considering she couldn’t even bothered to have her army of 5 stylists, prop up her hair, regardless of her no longer being proud of her country or not.

It wasn’t until Joshua attended the wealthy enclave of Lake Forrest College, on the North Shore Illinois, until he was in the presence of real descendant wealth. All his friends, there either attended private schools in Honolulu, Manhattan or in boarding schools back east in Connecticut or the Berkshires, which boasts more rehab centers per square foot, than Portlandia has safe spaces for shooting up heroin or even Lens Crafters for that matter, knowing how slamming high octane, IPA’s at 8 percent in rapid succession will put strain on any four eyed hipster’s eyes trying to make out the chalkboard written specials for fried Kale Pickles that tames the smokiness of Rogue’s Shakespeare Stout on tap better than you think. In college, he learned his Hawaiian roommate for 2 years there attended Punahou on the big island of Hawaii, which Obama attended prior. In his act Joshua would dare to make the fun of the hopeful one, insisting, “Obama renamed ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times. So that’s an Obama accomplishment for you. Also, if Obama is such a good baller at Basketball. Then, why did her ride the bench an all Asian private school in Hawaii. Last, did you most Americans think Obama a was a better president than George Washington. But I don’t see good old Georgie gifting Iran 150 billion dollars out of the freaking blue with nothing but power of his phone and pen, for more overseas manufacturing jobs for Build A Bear, to make their economy less reliant on the sale of hair removal products for the Kardashians. Kim Kardashian will be taking the bar soon to become a criminal justice lawyer. Criminal Justice Lawyers are so hot right now. Also, Bruce Jenner wasn’t asexual when he was married to Kris Jenner, but I’m sure he stayed harder longer, after he got Kris to cut her short eventually, so she’d look more like a dolled-up Ralph Macchio.”

Joshua’s friend Cling, another boarding school kid, who was total preppy stoner, who knew how to use his fists, worked as chef in Nantucket for the summer, so he was never hurting for cash either. Paone, who also loved Dice, attended a private school in St. Louis, who never met a Birkenstock’s he didn’t like or the even more well-off Pam who rode equestrian horses out of the freaking womb. Joshua did have a friend Jim, who was from Wisconsin, who didn’t drip inherited wealth compared to his other buds but in retrospect, could’ve easily attended some prestigious, private, Catholic school there, knowing he wasn’t enough of a Brainiac to get into Lake Forrest on a full scholarship, but was literate enough know hair metal shredder’s White Lion, were at their core, a Christian metal band, citing lyrics, which proved his assertion and everything, which made hair metal crooning loving Joshua feel like a bigger, degenerate, spiritual bankrupt, clueless Jew than before.

Joshua also had spent the one summer in Chatham, in Cape Code, Kennedy country, during his 1st summer of self-reliant independence after his sophomore year of college, paying his own way, outside of the leased, Forrest Green Grand Cherokee, his parents decided to lease him out of the freaking blue. Joshua loved blasting I Found A True Love by man and half Wilson Pickett in that car, especially the part, where he can’t contain his sheer electric state of ecstatic rapture, declaring with the utmost pride and loving tender satisfaction, “I can shout about her, yeah, yeah.” Because after Joshua made his 1st ever big time hook up request of God off the sandy white shores of Cape Cod by his lonesome, heart reeling self, stating, “God, I need a romance of some kind already God. Please, thrown me a bone already, I’m dying over here.” Only days, later, the original striking beauty in his life, Katie King, glided into his heart in one beautiful seamless motion, as her silky, smooth, blond straight hair draped over his muscular yet feminine shoulders, looking the most statuesque southern beauty imaginable, with sultry, rounded lips, who was a double major at Duke University, the Harvard of the south, who could kick the shit out of Reese Whitherspoon during a debutant spelling bee in the 9th grade guaranteed. Joshua was rocking his semi long, fluffy long haired look, practicing a guitar chord his friend Sam just taught, him as she entered the back patio of Skyler’s parents house who had a beer delivery man who came twice a week, including Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, the pale ale that never gets stale, Harpoon IPA, Pete’s Wicket summer brew, you name it. Actually, back then in the summer of 96, there were only a handful of specialty craft, breweries, which Joshua became intent on sucking down with divine commandment commanded fervor. This didn’t please Joshua’s stiffy snot roommate from Williams College, an athletic, tall, waspy, blond haired 6 by east coast liberal arts standards, would introduce him to casual forms of Anti-Semitism, dropping lines such as “Take your banged up Jeep and go back to New York already.” Translation, Jews aren’t welcome in Cape Cod Kennedy country moron. She also expressed her disdain for Joshua drinking the lion share of the beers despite them remaining untouched by the 4 other housemates, Joshua was rooming with temporarily at Skyler’s parents house for one free month, before they all moved into another house, they’d all contribute rent for that summer. Joshua was doing his drunk hand thing with Katie, where he starts touching a girls hand without being intentional or predatory about it, as he could feel the collective gentile gaze look of abject horror despair among his other female roommates also who attended McGill College, up in Montreal, as they thought, “Who does big head Jew, think he is, flirting with such a ravishing, southern belle beauty in our midst like he’s fucking Jeff Goldblum crushing on Laura Dern in Jurassic Park for Christ sake. Reality is Katie was way hotter, prettier, sculpted, towering blonde dame than Laura Dern, considering the fact Katie’s mom was Miss South Carolina for a reason. Then, out of nowhere, when Joshua wasn’t sending tingles of sparkly summer love through tips of Katies’ classical pianist trained, beautifully elongated, strong tan fingertips, the Williams Wasp hits him with, “Put the beer down already. Haven’t you had enough already? There’s 5 other people who live here you know. Translation again, “You don’t belong here, you grubby, greedy, lushy Jew.” Still, Joshua got the last laugh, because his summer romance with Katie bloomed, and his friend Sam from Lake Forrest, found him a cheap room at this older ladies house off the main drag of Chatham, as he spend the majority of his nights in Katies’ arms in her spacious, air apartment way closer the beach with her cute, feisty, southern fierce smart, roommate Briana who chose to forsake AC for the topless bra look whenever he was around. God couldn’t have made Joshua a bigger believer in his divine powered giving grace, by ushering Katie King into his heart during the summer Fugees hit the airwaves, to wash away any remnant of heart beaten scare tissue for being a sad, single romantic, lost at sea prior, which was killing him loudly more than ever before. Joshua and Katie were love birds; his heart had finally taken flight to heaven on earth. The could kiss for hours, held hands in town instantly, even compelling his own mother to comment after they took them out to dinner once, saying, “Son, seeing you with Katie, blissfully in love, put me at ease, making me think my son will be ok after all.” Although the real show topping highlight during the Summer of Katie was his southern belle angel, tell her sweet Joshua, “I love how happy you make me feel.” Joshua felt the same because thanks to God, answering his 1st , big time favor ask prayer, he could shout about her, yeah, yeah.

Chapter 1 Rabbi Mendel Schneerson Lives

Chapter 1

Rabbi Mendel Schneerson Lives

 

Joshua loved his Grandma. Without her Pfizer stock money, he never would’ve been able to take the plunge into open mike stand up comedy during his recovery year living in Sherman Oaks, California with his dear bud Jay, who met during his IT recruiter days of yesteryear. Growing up, his stylish, rambunctious, art loving, bi-polar Jewish grandma would tell her eldest Grandson, “Slow down.” And her grandson wasn’t even addicted to time release Adderall yet. Nor was he an unplanned father of 3 who never mastered the art of the pump fake yet, trying to get his Do It all Dad Year Podcast on to I-Tunes New and Notable list without no immediate grandparents on both sides to help out with the kids in sight.

Joshua felt like his entire life was a cold call since graduating Ithaca College, which he calls Cornell’s retarded next door neighbor. Still, Joshua also likes to advertise his 2 decades worth of pot abuse and add, “But he attended the distinguished Roy H. Park School Of Communications, so he could puff bong hits of exceptionally strong outdoor and managed not to stutter every other 2 seconds.”  Becoming an IT Headhunter paying his own way in his world, after his parents finally cut him off at 23 made him the man he is today. Now, Joshua being a father of 3 tends question of the everlasting value of his college education, knowing he was the only putz to graduate a top communication school in the country with a debilitating stutter. But cold calling through his heavy pain period of being hung up on by IT Directors twice his age he cold called non-stop from 8 to 6 each day pre-smart phones in 99 when you actually had to call information for phone numbers when dial up Internet Access through a fucking Earthlink account wasn’t available in your office yet either. Still, despite crying it out in the bathroom stall at work after another crushing day of endless, dejected defeat from being hung up on all day long, not knowing how the hell he was going to make a living to support himself in this world, he plowed forward, out of sheer desperation, being totally optionless in life, possessing zero leverage over anything despite his adamant refusal to throw in the towel and quit the job, despite his Garbage Man son’s boss from Queens, giving the option out, stating, “How many more times can you deal with being hung up on exactly?” Joshua was never strong with numbers, having to count with his fingers for simple arithmetic, explaining why he’d constantly call himself a degenerate Jew, leading to a recent exchange with his 9-year Bashert daughter, Matilda Singing Rose Kornbluth. She asks. Daddy, how many zeros are in a trillion? Daddy, do you really have to Google that? Daddy are you financially illiterate. Is why you call yourself a degenerate Jew who still counts with fingers for simple arithmetic after all?

5 months later Joshua’s persistence was rewarded. Finally, he was able to slam his phone back on the receiver triumphant, yelling out loud for the entire open office of IT agency recruiters to hear, “Deal.” The room erupted with instantaneous jubilee, as all of his fellow IT agency recruiter took at time out from their daily cold call assaults to come over and give the traditional high five to a recruiter who just closed their first deal and broke his cherry, feeling a semi-capable, functioning human being the business world for a change.

Now, Joshua is with his dad, his best friend from the Bronx, affectionally known as Uncle D, his Grandma’s sister’s son Bernie and Wife Ruthie along with a Rabbi in a damp, blistery cold day in a graveyard in Queens,  staring down a barren, wooden box his Grandma is buried in. At this point, Joshua realizes he’s never been to a Jewish funeral before, so the stripped-down proceeding of the bare, non-ostentatious bare as can be coffin, chills him to the core. The final enormity of death pulled at his heart like a ton of bricks. All of his Grandma’s friends were dead now, so not one was there to pay their final respects. She also spent he remaining years, in fancy old age homes, she never cared for, off her bi-polar medication, which eradicated her special spark. Now, she was better off Joshua thought, reunited with his Jewish Grandfather who he never knew, who died before he was born, most likely from the nuclear radiation considering his close proximity to the big one in Japan, when he served as medic in the army, winning a Bronze Star for bravery in the process. Understand, Joshua had no intention to speak at his Grandma’s wedding because was frankly still pissed off at her for blowing off his wedding because he married a Gentile. In fact, since Joshua started pursuing a career in stand-up comedy, he’d do a bit, stating,” I wish I snubbed by whiny, no show Jewish Grandam for a wise Black Grandma at my wedding. Post an ad on Craig’s List, stating, Tyler Perry impersonators are welcome. Must be comfortable performing in front of white audiences only. Truth is Joshua being a native New Yorker, always enjoyed making the a New York brother laugh long time, considering his affinity for the New York Knicks, which he describes as forced marriage his father pushed on him, despite there never being a ring in his lifetime to show for it. Before Joshua even became an unplanned father of 3, he experienced an epiphany while on a run at his old high school, within bucolic, mountainous, tree topping, surroundings, of Westchester Country, in Edgemont, NY. As he picked up the pace to finish his final lap around the track where he used to drink flask of Southern Comfort and forties of old E from the local bodegas in White Plains who never asked for ID, Joshua thought, we learn our behavior from our dad. Which explains why I became a fat fuck in high school, sitting my ass on the couch, eating like shit, watching the Knicks stick up the joint on TV again and again.  Growing up, Joshua’s father would call him a waste of height because the highlight of his basketball career in high school was scoring a whopping ten points against an all Japanese team based in Westchester Country. Joshua in his act would say, “It wasn’t hard to score against these Japanese players who half my size because every time I’d drive to the hoop, they’d run away scared from me like they were movie extras in a Godzilla film, except instead of saying, Looking Godzilla, they’d say, look Hugh Grant on Stilts.” Raising a benchwarmer could’ve made Joshua’s dad beam with pride, especially senior year, knowing he’d schlep from his VP of packaging sales job in Jersey to high school a gym in Eastchester, NY only to see his son ride the pin because he never got his never putz energy under control, still hadn’t lost his virginity yet and started to have a more active social life involving, getting drunk with his friends at bars along North Avenue In New Rochelle to Oh, What a Night and smoking sprayed weed from the Bronx at a fake news Jamaican Record store, that taste like Windex. Joshua had also taken up smoking cigarettes because he his good friend Ari got him into on top both of them being enamored with Dice, the king of heavy metal hair comedians back in the day.

After Joshua spent a summer in Israel for a Masada teen tour, which is late Grandma paid for, he finally felt like man on the rise with a semblance of mojo working in his favor a change. Sure, hooking up with 2 Israeli girls the week he stayed on Kibbutz, that summer, did wonders for his self-esteem. Because prior, he was consumed with heavy heart, knowing his younger brother of 3 years had not only achieved puberty before he did but also banged the 3 hottest girls in his class, which he tried to jerk off to at the time but couldn’t, making him feel like a big brother bust, like Eddy Curry on the Knicks, with an even shittier, less reliable hook shot.  Chances are that Joshua doesn’t have the senior yearbook staff coin the award Grooviest in his honor if his Grandma never insisted on sending her eldest Grandson to Israel for the summer. Nor would he win the International Award, for hooking up with the two Israeli girls during his Masada Teen Tour. Prior, the only award Joshua ever won was for Most Improved Basketball Player at sleep away camp in Kent, CT, marking another award invented in his far less cocksure manner. Joshua was overwhelmed with emotion, when he won the Most Improved Basketball Award, knowing he was such a shy, unsure kid, he’d skip out on Canteen mixers with the neighboring girl camp in favor of doing defense shuffling slide drills at night, which he got laughed and ridiculed for. That is when he wasn’t reading Cracked Magazine in his bunk alone yet happy or trying to jerkoff to a Playboy magazine one night with his flashlight while the entire bunk was full without having the entire cabin to himself. Thinking things through was never Joshua’s forte.

Now, the Rabbi had asked if anyone wanted to speak about his Joshua’s dead grandmother, Ethel.  Joshua was consumed with a lofty spirit of some kind and finally reached peace with his grandmother blowing off his wedding because he married a gentile. He said, “I loved my grandmother. With her giving me Pfizer stock money amassed from her years of working as an executive assistant in the Manhattan at their corporate headquarters, I never would’ve been able to throw myself into my dream of becoming a strong enough stand up comedian to get a job writing TV sitcoms like American Dad or pilots of my own creation for a living. But what I cherish more is a book she gave me once, which was a first, titled, The Teachings of Rabbi Mendel Scheerson.  “Think good and it will be good.”   He also talks about not allowing yourself to be controlled by fear, knowing how mercurial humans can be. So, it’s a total time suck and way too emotionally draining to invest so much into caring so much about the opinions of others knowing how fickle we can be. Of course, I’ll never forgive my younger brother for writing some girl’s phone number on the inside cover. But he’d didn’t know any better, I’m assuming. Nor did Grandma know any other way but to always be brutally honest and bust balls because that’s what Jewish Grandma’s did back in the day. Later, the Rabbi, approaches Joshua, moved by his warm words about his grandmother asks Joshua, “Tell me about this dream your Grandma helped make true. What do you write for now Joshua?” Joshua can’t help but laugh inside and says, “Myself Rabbi, lady laugh, take your pick.” And the Rabbi’s face turned from glow filled acceptance to dejected dread, considering the Rabbi’s imagined success for Ethel’s too tall Jew, grandson prior.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to Hebrew School

Can we grow closer to God without following his commandments?

How do we know if your wife is on your side or her parents?

Why do atheists act so smug superior over actual believers?

What kind of an asshole, professes to be a practicing Catholic, but only confesses to never going to confession?

Why are some Christians intent on defining whose Jewish and whose not?

Should you divorce a mother of your 3 children because her parents have zero Jewish friends, no respect for your Jewish traditions or interest in embracing them and insist on doing grace in your Jewish home?

Why do certain Christians fail to respect Jews just believing in a different Messiah, nothing more nothing less?

Do self-hating Jewish New Yorkers learn self-loathing from their dads or from society flush with more athletic, chiseled, taller Gentile man who know their way around a power tool or under the hood of sports car than they do?

Why does a Jewish New Yorker feel more strongly about his Jewish identify than a Jewish accountant from Kansas City?

What makes a man fight to preserve the Jewish heritage he was raised with?

What’s more important to Jewish New Yorker’s money, success, love or God’s grace?

Why are writers do quick to discredit God when the prose they write is deeper and more impressive than anything they say off the page in person?

Does God want me to re raise myself Jewish and go back to Hebrew School to prove my worthiness for being a chosen funny man Jew for hire?

Why is raising my kids Jewish an important crusade?

How can you express your Jewishness in the most soulful, inspiring fashion?

Why are signs of Jewish pride the best way to combat Jewish hate?

Why do certain gentiles pretend to love the Jewish people or Israel as a whole just because they love Mel Brooks films?

Once a Jew hater, always a Jew hater, why is that?

If you’re not a true Christian believer than why is converting to Judaism such a big deal after all?

Why do woman who attended Catholic school fear upsetting their parents more than God?

Why does advertising your Jewishness make gentiles so uncomfortable knowing crosses around your neck or way more prevalent than Stars of David last time I checked?

Michael Kornbluth