Tag: socialmedia

When America Winces

by doitalldadyear, posted in blogging, entertainment, humor, politics

At a parent-teacher conference for my son’s Kindergarten class, his Spanish Teacher implores us to bring Spanish to our home. I raise my hand and ask, “Isn’t one home invasion enough?” 

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much. 

Self-Defense is deader than Kyle Rittenhouse’s prospects during pledge week at the University of Arizona. 

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much. 

I wish toothpaste tasted more like Bud Light. So, I wouldn’t taste anything afterward except Kid’s Rocks spurned tears. 

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much. 

Now Kid Rock can’t play beer pong with groupies on Spring Break in Daytona Beach without his gag reflex kicking in to the image of a Dylan Hepburn finger popping American Badass from behind to Devil Without Cause?

When American winces, Challah, thank you very much. 

10.8 million Tik Tock followers are ten times platinum. So, I’d lose my zest for pounding Bud Light on the front leg of my F Hair Plugs Sniffer Tour, Born free, my balls.

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much.

I’m guilty of wincing after asking Alexa how many followers Dylan Hepburn Mulvaney has on Tik Tok before finishing that joke. 

I didn’t wince because Dylan Mulvaney is trans. I winced because she’s hackier than John Mullaney’s act in Jerry Seinfeld’s Bar Mitzvah suit. 

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much. 

I also winced at the thought of how Dylan is the best American-made Trans talent Tik Tok offers these days. Our Chinese Overlords wouldn’t consider Dyland Hepurn Lady Boy gold material of any kind, especially since the price of the US dollar is more depressed than Trumpy Poo’s tits knowing that Operation Death Speed continues to cause more cases of cardiac arrest than torn condoms on Bill Maher’s party bus tour of Rio De Janeiro during Marti Gras, sponsored by Third Legged Beauties.com. 

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much.

I bet Dylan Mulvaney isn’t even real, just a CIA-made, augmented reality version of what a trans influencer spokesperson for Bud Light would look like based on John Mulaney’s stool sample alone.

How Dylan’s sex appeal alone is generate 10 million followers on Tik Tok? It sounds more prosperous than John Mulaney selling out Madison Garden because he had the balls to after Seinfeld for a change. Cosby was rapist for 4 decades in a row. What happened to your powers of observation then Jerry?

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much.

Click Farms in India wince at padding Dylan’s numbers more than they did for the creep Swede in Succession.

When America winces, Challah, thank you very much. 

Michael Kornbluth 

Avant-Garde Good

by doitalldadyear, posted in business, technology, writing

As a Headhunter Writer, it’s rare to desire a potential friendship with a candidate. My attitude is different this time because he’s a performance artist, a classically trained violinist turned Software Engineer who played at Carnegie Hall. So, I consider him a kindred spirit. Granted, I’ve only done 5 minutes of standup comedy at the Comedy Cellar, in comparison.

All obsessive, aspiring artists are treated like delusional hack breaths at one point in their life. Or been forced to endure passive-aggressive wails of, “It’s important to have a form of creative expression,” or similar lines of disparagement in their presence, such as the dreaded word “Hobby,” used to describe your life’s work that provides the greatest source of pride in your life. So yes, I’m going to take personal offense if somebody minimizes this kid’s artistic heft and heart-enriching wonderment on the Violin as a mere “hobby” after he sets the stage ablaze at Carnegie Hall, the way Lenny Bruce tore the house down during his historic show one blistering cold winter tonight on February 3, 1961, immortalized on wax forever.

That is before the omnipotent federal government decided to bankrupt Lenny into silence and deny him a living for pointing out shaky moral high grounds at large. Where have you gone, Lenny Bruce? That is what’s weighing on my mind today. Did you know Lincoln jailed journalists who spoke out against his war to crush state rights permanently? He confiscated firearms and property and jailed anyone that disagreed with his rule of tyranny. England had ended slavery peacefully too. I’m so red-hot pissed today; I want to get a Confederate flag tattoo and say, “Fuck you, Dad, I don’t want to be buried in a Jewish cemetery anymore. I’m a Jew for Jesus now. Because even Jesus would have a hard time forgiving the unnecessary slaughter of 600,000 plus Americans, more than all our major wars combined, just so Yankee Bankers could impose their military-industrial complex on anybody whenever they wanted in addition to printing money at will, they even taught secession to West Point cadets back in the day.

So much for this post being LinkedIn-ready appropriate anymore. Time for an impersonation; this is an impression of Dr. Dre discussing the LinkedIn merger with Eminem. “Hey Slim, Microsoft paid 4.5 billion for LinkedIn. Worrrrrrddddd. LinkedIn is lamer than ever, you.”

Oh yeah, and Lincoln didn’t end slavery. Confederate Generals like Stonewall Jackson taught reading and writing to the enslaved Black people during Sunday School, and Robert E Lee possessed a higher opinion of African American capacity for betterment than elitist banker licking Abe ever did.

Now, my candidate has been working as a Software Engineer for a major media company at odds with Dominion allegedly, who boasts an A Plus rating on GitHub, which is a portfolio site of code judged by fellow nerds. Think Reddit plus 1000 IQ points minus the creepy broken English undertow vibe.

Understand, this kid is a Julliard grad, like freaking Robin Williams. Miles Davis is by far the most famous Julliard grad of all time, who decided to trail Bird everywhere, that being Charlie Parker, and learn under his tutelage rather than learn Jazz from a professor who grew up in the snuggle soft confines of Scarsdale, NY. Granted, Miles Davis came from money; his father was a big-time dentist in St. Louis who owned his practice, but still. You have to admire Mile’s commitment to artistic integrity, willingness to take experimental chances with his art, and wanting to learn from a one-person wind farm in Bird, who blew all his peers off the stage in a tsunami of soul-splintering sound around midnight when his blowpipes just stared to get warmed up. Avant-Garde Good, Challah. Thank you very much.

I’ve met this candidate only once, but after watching this kid play his heart out on the Violin on the Carnegie Hall stage through YouTube, I became an instantaneous fan of his for life. This kid vibrates earth-shaking talent up the wazoo. Suddenly, I had a new mission in my life. Take a time out with my art of comedy record creation and get this kid a new work family that cares about celebrated working artists as much as I do. This kid played freaking Carnegie Hall; he’s got a master’s in musical performing arts and is a Juilliard grad. So, when he started, did he envision banging out code as an alternative backup plan for a living? And Bill Hicks contemplated applying for a marketing associate intern position at Proctor and Gamble if his standup comedy career never materialized into a profitable trade.

My point is I can relate. I wasn’t planning on working as an IT Headhunter Writer after my TV writing break with America’s Hard 100 on VH1 Classic. I should’ve been in the WGA 7 years ago before I wrote The Great American Jew Novel, which Dianne Sullivan from the Midwest Book Review described as a “hilarious exploration of NY Comedy and culture.” In short, I’m a total hack breath; that’s no better than the rest if I can’t convince a hiring manager in NYC to give this kid a shot to prove what he’s got.

So far, my email headline in his honor that I’ve been blasting hiring managers with throughout NYC through email addresses listed on Zoom Info has netted goonish, meaning 0.0 replies. That headliner hooker to nowhere being, dramatic drum roll please, “Developer Prodigy Who Played Carnegie Hall.” Are these Engineering Directors for Startup Nation feeling like an ineffectual hackling in his presence already?

Because folks, sometimes people don’t want to hire younger, smarter, faster, more creative, and impressive workers who make them look vastly overpaid and overrated in comparison. So yes, I will proclaim loud and proud on your incoming voicemail, “Joe, Joshua Kornbluth, Human Edge. I’m calling you about a developer prodigy who played at Carnegie Hall. What have you done with your life lately? Did I mention his A Plus rating on GitHub yet? Or that he’s a Juilliard grad yet? Or is he the steal of the century for 140K compared to his blah-breathed, uninspired peers? He’s Avant-Garde Good. #WinnerAtWork. Joshua@HumanEdge.com, Get him while you can.” Janis Joplin lives, Avant-Garde Good, Challah. Thank you very much.


Was that too boastfully long for your tastes? I don’t care. As Jon Bon Jovi sings, “You’ve got to make your breaks,” and it’s a more emotionally charged ride when you’re creating urgent buzz around a star software engineer that I’ll get a better job for because fresher is better, one way or another. Pat Benatar lives, and so does my killer gender-fluid flow. Avant-Garde Good, Challah. Thank you very much.


Michael Kornbluth

Chopping Block Blues

by doitalldadyear, posted in business, culture, technology

Has Obama given any Ramadan shout outs on LinkedIn yet?

Does he have to clear the plug-in front of his in-house Arabian horse whisperer Valerie Jarrett first?

So, Valerie what do you think of the hashtag, “HackingHymensAreUs?

Or is that too extremist for the Muslim Brotherhood’s tastes?

Can I accuse our prophet of culturally appropriating Lent?

But adding the fast during the day thing to root out the Infidel moderate Muslims in our midst?

Do you think Congress would’ve dared to impeach me if they caught Baby Face Omar in Minnesota emailing me for fasting tips on Ramadan in the face of her staffers eating so many wings in front of her during March Madness at YourMamaObama@gmail.com?

For Ramadan do you think Kamala Harris abstains from kicking her kick the can clit around the oval office whenever Hair Plugs Sniffer is around mulling over whether Jill sucks dick for bitcoin on the downlow at Hotel Dupont during the weekends after pooping out at hard 7 again?

What do you think Dave Chappelle does throughout Ramadan Valerie? Abstain from licking R. Kelly’s ass in his latest and greatest comedy special for Netflix? During Ramadan does Dave refrain from calling R. Kelly, the black Elvis with weaker bladder control in his act?

What do you think Trumpy Poo Tits does during Ramadan Valerie? Burn a printed-out version of my fake news social security card from Darian, CT?

Have you heard this impression yet Valerie? This is Corey Booker flirting with Rosario backstage at the Source Awards? Was it you or Chole Sevigny who died of Aids in the movie Kids? Just playing, in the end, that white bitch didn’t feel so privileged after all.

Finally, Valerie interjects.

What does Michelle do during Ramadan Barack? Pal around with Ellen at her compound in Santa Barbara with W over games of Operation, Gender Reassignment Edition? I know Ellen is pro bush, but admitting to being pals with W is a tad weird, don’t you think Barack? I mean I hate Trumpy Poo Tits to for what had our military do to ISIS. After you rebranded them ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times. But seriously Barack, what do Ellen, and Michelle do on a Saturday night together, when you’re busy ignoring Jussie Smollett’s texts again? Do they howl with perverse delight, as W paints another watercolor print of Portia De Rossi having her white privilege laden clit being hacked off for Sharia Law Appreciation Month? Have you told Groping Biden; I mean Mr. Groper to make that an official holiday yet? So, put down the crack pipe already Barack? You look more cracked out skinny than Dana Plato after tanning in Aruba.

Barack replies.

Fuck you Valerie.

I can come up with my own Ramadan plug to post on LinkedIn.

I don’t need to clear it with you first, you she camel ape.

Stick to the BLM thing kiddo. hashtag, Thug Lives Matter Most, that sort of thing.

Accuse Turbo Tax of being culturally biased software, which you’re Obama Be Good lickers left in Silicon Valley will lick up.

Assuming, they’ve recouped their losses since the US dollar has become more depressed than Sharon Stone’s snatch on the chopping block during Sharia Law appreciation month at a charity gala in Brentwood to raise funds for her latest passion doc project with Breitbart, “Will Flash for Bitcoin.”

Chopping Block Blues, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Sensitive To Stale

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

The technician from Optimum reconnects our Internet.

I declare.

“God is dead. Not today Nietzche, not on Optimum’s watch. God lives, Challah, thank you very much.”

And the Optimum Tech says, God lives. Can you include that plug in your customer service satisfaction survey?” Hashtag, #GoWokeYourselfNietzche.

Fresher is better, Challah.

Thank you very much.

I’m flipping 2 middle fingers to the Internet for being out for 3 days by playing a plethora of records at home on vinyl during our Internet fast such as Fats Domino, Warren Zevon, Miles Davis and Meatloaf. But then I try to inject artistic deepness into my life by buying Hunky Dory by David Bowie to play on a Saturday night which failed to give me sustained stiffage of any kind.

You know a David Bowie record is a chuck worthy offense. When you can’t even get through half of the second side without flicking the clunker at little Hudson’s face.

And say, “Stop bitching kid. Your hipster hack dad could’ve named you Bowie instead. Ziggy Stardust sucks when he reverts to being David Bowie again. Glam metal is no substitute for an enviable personality kid. That’s why your mom Micro-Doses with magic mushrooms to make you more interesting than your father pretends to be.”

Fuck David Bowie.

I want to dress my blond-haired son as Craig Ehlo for Halloween.

To celebrate a time, pre-social media when the NBA wasn’t a safe space for Lebron James ego before he anointed himself, King of The Persecution Complex.

Just so a dad from my Gen X generation says.

“Hey kid, are you dressed as Craig Ehlo from the 86 Cavs? I should call Child Services. I can’t tell if you’re dressed up to go Trick or treating or tea bagging with MJ? Hey kid, did you know that Tom Chambers isn’t in the hall of fame after scoring 20,000 career points? White privilege, my ass. ”

Fresher is better, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Flawless Light

by doitalldadyear, posted in happiness, poetry, writing

Pro abortion on demand posts proclaiming it’s the greatest thing since hand sliced Nova on LinkedIn have tampered off dramatically off since Friday. What happened? Oh yeah, you remembered that nobody gives a shit about corporate activism since your evil-siding scumbag overlords mandated forced clot shots since the day Democracy died. Who only 2 years prior, acted fake news outraged about a Russian collusion tale with less legs than Lieutenant Dan, right Buzzfeed? Use your head America, Trumpy Poo would never hire 2 Russian hookers to pee on each other because he’s a notorious germaphobe. And could always hire a bunch of Ivanka look likes who sound more like Melania who could pee on each other at his hotel in DC sporting nothing but mink hats from Spies Like Us whenever he likes.

I know, without your abortion you’d never be a proud homeowner at 33. Or know what it’s like to be on the receiving end from endless streams of yummy hugs after blowing your kids away with a chive specked, farm fresh, scramble mushroom supreme. Or be motivated enough to make your year without beer count. So, your sons can aspire to follow your lead with a follow up series of launch parties on top of the Box Jump that you just made your blast off bitch while blasting Take Me The Top by Motley Crue. Is that parenting rich premise worthy of intellectual contemplation Ayn Rand, self-serving cunts are us?

Have fun with your empty, drab, lifeless home in Northern California with no hardcore hilarious kids to brighten up your endlessly beautifying day with slacker prevention talk like this.

“Daddy, why didn’t you go on the Peloton yet?”

“I got food poisoning from the Hallal guys and never-ending long COVID from 5 booster shots in a row. I got full blown AIDS from Andy Dick through Zoom.”

“Enough with the excuses daddy. You’re worse than Hillary.”

Flawless Light shines on, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Sloppy Second Son

by doitalldadyear, posted in culture, entertainment, film

If you laugh at the idea of your dad ever learning sign language to speak with his son, then you might be a sloppy second son.

If your mom gets the humpty dance on to a slow song at your brother’s wedding with her idealized partner in love to prove Freud still maters, then chances are you’re the sloppy second son.

If you brother remains the focal point of your parent’s existence, who continues to encapsulate all their best hopes and desires, despite making Hunter Biden look like a slacker, underachiever in comparison, then you’re mostly likely the sloppy second son.

If your mother insists you become a garbage man, because you’ve been on shit detail as a Stay At Home Dad for the past 4 years after writing for TV twice, then you’re the sloppy second son. Especially when mom’s attitude is, “At least my son has on the job experience to cite for a steady, six figure salary. It would finally mean he had his shit together for a change versus being another burnt out IT agency recruiter whose been fired than a Palestinian Sling Shot.”

Postponing the dildo talk with my 10-year-old daughter after discovering’s mom’s dildo stickers for an upcoming bachelorette party. Daddy, “What’s this sticker supposed to be?” I say, “Look, you already know about the Holocaust and 9/11, but I’m still not prepared to have this conversation now. For now, let’s just agree to call them, symbols of self-sufficient love, when your partner loses all interest in pleasing you without being guilted it into first because that same person supports kids being forced to wear masks, which kills off any chance of sustainable stiffage in their presence, naked or not over the long run.” Eagle’s lives, Challah, thank you very much.

UPenn Swimmers getting uncomfortable with Trans Phelps in the locker room.

“If he’s really a girl, then why does he flaunt his man meat in front of us? And are you sure Joe Rogan didn’t slip him boner pills laced with CBD? Because those estrogen pills aren’t working. Plus, I thought trans between middle leg mutilation, had a hard time keeping it up without being pumped with enough DNC fundraiser crystal path to keep the party going. Last, why is Trans Phelps immune to the gravitational pull of post pool shrinkage? How does that even work, you identify as being a girl yet pop boners around a bunch of flat-chested nerds? If Trans Phelps is really a big, backed lesbo in the making, shouldn’t he she be more turned on by four eyed slobs in hand me down wool sweaters on Chestnut Street who have less interest in scented bathing salts than dieting during finals week on Adderall, avocado balls and fish oils alone? Assuming, Trans Phelps is bisexual, what kind of girl does he fashion himself to be? A cross between Suge Knight and the Showrunner from Orange Is The New Black? I don’t get it. You’d think Trans Phelps would have a Go Fund Me Page to complete the gender reassignment surgery already yet he’s dragging more than his balls in our girl’s locker room floor. I’d tell Trans Phelps to cut out the act and just admit he’s undecided on cutting off his link to manhood but I’m not holding my breath like Joe Rogan taking a gravity hit for old time’s sake either.” Old school weed references rule, Challah, thank you very much.

It’s hard to bring up an article about fellow UPENN swimmers complaining about the Trans Swimmer from UPENN showing off his dick in the locker girl’s locker room without injecting your kids into the conversation one bit. I say to my wife, “Babe, I don’t want any dick, straight, bi, or Trans around my daughter when she didn’t ask to see it or actively seek it out in the 1st place, do you? Besides, aren’t you the one who told our daughter about artificial insemination? Trust me, I love the idea of no penis ever entering the gravitational pull our daughter but look how Hillary turned out. At the same time, our daughter as a lesbian doesn’t have to worry about getting Aids because she can take a licking and keep on ticking. I’m not enthralled with what limited options she has for celebrity role models either. Ellen admitted on her show that she’s actually friends with George Bush after being caught palling around with him at a Cowboys game because regardless of political affiliation, Ellen is pro Bush all the way. And how patriotic is Meghan Rapone for siding with fake news Collin Kaepernick who made every day in the NFL kicking Nazi Destroyers in the nuts by taking a knee day. What, Collin Kaepernick sports a fake news fro? Have you ever seen a bi-racial afro that large before? Slash tried to grow it out and it was a total flop. Lenny Kravitz, my favorite bi-racial Hebrew could never make his fro bounce that way. And do you really see Meghan Rapino running for President babe? What’s going to be her campaign slogan? “Penetration is overrated.” That’s the same line she used on her prom date at the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance. Or will her campaign slogan be, “Fuck Spotify Obama, and bring back the L Word to Netflix. Your our only hope. I can make a cameo in a new TV show starring Michelle Obama about a Drag Queen Tina Turner tribute act in Martha’s Vineyard called, “What’s Talent Got To Do With It? Just don’t expect me to be chill about our son’s wanting to get their dicks chopped off because pee hard-on blues in elementary school are more embarrassing to shoulder than pic pen spills into their progressively ripping Bugle Boy jeans. At the same time, I don’t see baby samuel wanting to part with his dick anytime soon, when he says to his big brother, “Arthur, sit on my penis.” Before I say, “Not Kosher Baby.” Challah, thank you very much. Just don’t expect me to buy any Meghan Rapino endorsed products at Victoria Secrets since she became their new spokesperson babe as tempting as it is to blow 80 bucks on pair of edible shin guards that taste like hair fish sticks.” Sloppy Second Son shoots and scores, Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

The Dishonorable Front

by doitalldadyear, posted in faith, family, fiction

Best way for Obama’s half-brother to downplay his Terrorist ties to the Muslim Brotherhood. Ditch the Islamic head cap for a MAGA hat during a Facebook livestream on the 4th of July, while blasting the Kayne West portion of Black Republicans in the background. Before wishing Soccer Mom Nation, a Happy 4th, immune from low-income housing from radicalized Sunni refuges from Somalia like Minnesota did for congressional rep Baby Face Omar gonna work it out. Then, Malik, no I wasn’t the swing forward star from St. Johns, Obama, says, “Kenyan lives don’t matter, unless you’re Barack Obama, Christians decapitated by ISIS excluded. But you got to give Barack props for rebranding ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times during March Madness. That’s an Obama accomplishment for you Tucker, that boasts thousands of likes under the Muslim Brotherhood fan page on LinkedIn. And if my half-brother is such a baller at basketball Tucker, then why did Barack ride the bench at an all-Asian private school in Hawaii?”

You ever get a LinkedIn connection request from an impossible to annunciate Arabic name which you’re only uncomfortable with because their profile shot is a headless one?

You don’t want to be accused of Islamophobia, so you’re forced to feel like an asshole for questioning whether this a warning shot from the Muslim Brotherhood for spreading disinformation on your WordPress comedy blog about Public Enemy and The Bomb Squad being bigger Elvis haters than lovers of Farrakhan’s use of poetry slam intended rhyme.

“I’m not an anti-Semite. I’m anti-Termite”, is an ok turn of phrase to try out at an oxygen bar open mike in the valley within the stench laden bowls of North Hollywood. But it’s no, “Emancipate our minds from mental slavery.” Or the demonic Jew in charge of CNN will praise ANTIFA for their unheralded bravery. Farrakhan isn’t my number one pick for prophets above Bob Marley on Ranker is all I’m saying.  Although I’m positive Snoop Dog would disagree, despite Wine Spectator claiming, “Snoops’ Cabernet tastes like mouth wash used in porn hood hell.”

Did you know Hitler was born on the pot smoking holiday 4/20? I haven’t felt this duped by the satanic Jews in charge of green lighting Cheech and Chong films since they allowed Sly Stallone to sneak Mel Gibson into Expendables 3.

Has Don Lemon interviewed Ziggy Marley on 420 yet to discuss the plunging birthrates in NYC because of Lena Dunham’s encouraged arm fat flapper look on Instagram? Don Lemon asks, “How did your dad have so many kids Ziggy? Doesn’t ganja drain your ball sack dry? Ziggy Marley says with an extra lit powered grin, “Fake News Man.”

Michael Kornbluth





Platypus Puss Attack

by doitalldadyear, posted in fiction, storytelling, writing

What’s more despicable, going on a J Date with Al Franken or supporting the candidacy of Liz Cheney for anything besides HR Manager for Halliburton? She doesn’t even bother checking references.

“Are you cool with the US military taking out Pablo Escobar? So, Hunter can smoke crack freely without any drug enforcement collusion like he’s auditioning for the white privileged version of New Jack City? Yes, my younger brother makes Hunter come off as a slacker underachiever in comparison. Alrighty then. You start on Monday. The Taliban is in the market for some new escape pods for Kwanza. I voted for Trump twice. Get the fuck out of my office. Office, your chained to a vending machine out of Baby Ruths in a boiler room below Dante’s Inferno, below Penn Station. Get out. Fine, I’ll move to the Ukraine and get a job for a sports energy drink company that will pay me 52 grand a week to push borscht as the new Kombucha.”

But seriously, why would Al Franken throw his support behind Liz Cheney? Does he sell Spanx now for a living? Did Rebel Wilson tell him to piss off after he tried to squeeze her for a selfie in front of Jamba Juice? Rebel snaps. “You’re not Instagraming shit Al. The Alt Right will think I’m playing Liz Cheney in Oliver Stone’s new flick for Newsmax, The Day Democracy Died. Plus, the only reason pussy grabbing eludes you is because you’re only 4 foot 2. I mean what kind of self-respecting Jew supports Biden after he lied about visiting The Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh? The Rabbi vehemently denied ever meeting Mr. Groper there ever. He even went on record stating, “Do you think I hang out much at Ben & Jerry’s these days?  Rocky Road To Peace will create peace in no time. Newsflash United Nations, when Hamas terrorists in charge launch 5000 rockets into Israel’s backyard. Don’t expect an edible gift basket in return, with a thank you note written in Farsi, with all the hardened pineapple tops chucked into the Dead Sea.  Platypus Cheney could use all the tough love she could get, before resuming her job as the HR Manager for Halliburton next Monday.”

Platypus Puss Attack, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Short Lived Nirvana

by doitalldadyear, posted in comedy, entertainment, humor

I dislike any rock journalist or cultural critic who still lives in Portland, Oregon or in Seattle, Washington, ANTIFA apartheid represent. Especially those intent on selling us why Kurt Cobain was destined to become another rock casualty cliche due to a stomach irritation aggravated from too much soy. But at the height of his popularity, with all the f-you money in the world to avoid touring if he wanted to, after becoming a proud, doting father no less, Kurt Cobain wanted to pull an Ernest Hemingway after his shotgun marriage to sloppy seconds hole? Because Kurt Cobain couldn’t bear the burden of being branded as the voice of Generation X by Kurt Loder, when Sonic Youth had less brand name recognition on MTV than the Fine Young Cannibals or Midnight Oil throughout the early nineties for that matter?

Kurt Cobain admitted that their records sounded closer to Motley Crue records than punk rock ones, which doesn’t make him sound like the overgrown kid in the Jermey video on the verge off blowing his brains out over his Trapper Keeper in AP Bio either.

And Kurt Cobain killing himself at 27 no less, which is when Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison died from accidental overdoses is too cliche ridden planned for a rock star who raided his dead grandma’s closet for her most unflattering, wool sweater to sport on MTV Unplugged.

In the song In Bloom, Kurt Cobain sneered at meathead jocks with hardcore sardonic disdain, more likely to be first in line to see the Foo Fighters play the first MSG show post pandemic for the privilege of seeing big pharma sell out shill Dave Grohl perform in front of a vaccinated only crowd, to mark another monotone milestone through their edgeless, ever long lives. Yet were supposed to believe Kurt Cobain would give those same homophobe faggots in University of Maryland hats, who like to sing along to his “pretty songs”, the satisfaction of killing off his legacy as being the most kick ass, wildly popular non-conformist artist of his generation by proving to be another unoriginal, poser artist burnout tale of premature, blatantly avoidable ruin on VH1 Behind the Music like the rest. Yeah, and Eddie Vedder met his smoking hot second wife at a lesbo coffee shop in Seattle for slam toxic masculinity night.

All I’m saying is that Kurt Cobain was not one to do cliche, outside of doing his best Sid and Nancy impersonation with Courtney Love for a bit. And in the end, his overhyped stomach pains cited as the main driving force behind blowing his brains out after framing his vision of becoming a middle-aged junkie artist like a modern-day William Boroughs to Courtney Love as an easily attainable goal to shoot for, has been blown way out of proportion, like the working effectiveness of COVID 19 vaccination shot, which works less than an Alice and Chains cover band today at BYU, with Mitt Romney in town.

Personally, I love the Courtney Love Hole album, Live Through This, even more than Nevermind, even if ex-boyfriend Billy Corgan penned the lion share of her monster lyrics on it like, “I shit my bed from doing too much H, so I might as well die in it.” Plus, I can’t hate someone who called Linda Sarsour a fake news feminist who had no business attending the Woman’s March on Washington because of the Palestinian freedom fighter’s support of clitoral mutilation to ensure Muslim housewives receive zero pleasure on earth before being stoned to death for the crime of being spotted in their full-length Burkas in Sex and The City 2. So, if siding with Courtney Love for calling Linda Sarsour a fake feminist, makes me alt-right, then I’m alright with it. Challah, thank you very much.

Truth is, Kurt Cobain wouldn’t be caught dead in Starbucks if his Sonic Youth record collection was riding on it. So, I don’t buy Kurt Cobain feeding into the packaged brand of brooding depressive consumerism by killing himself at the height of his popularity who caused a bigger eruption in Courtney’s Love pants than Eddie Van Halen ever did. Nor do I buy into the forced fed, media manipulated assertion that Kurt Cobain was too much of a gun-shy pussy to persist rocking in a hyper focused Internet world of do or die capitalism man. A victimized Twitter Twat, he wasn’t it, “Here we are now, entertain us, I feel stupid and contagious because I shared a needle with Magic Johnson’s number one groupie in Seattle.”

Last, did you know Kurt Cobain predicted that an outsider who never worked in politics could become President of the United States like Trump one day? Ok, so maybe Kurt Cobain killed himself for a reason, knowing that the eventual advent of social media would unearth the A Plus narcissist in us all. Neither Republicans nor Democrats have a monopoly on messianic right, God does. The sooner were all able to unite around that absolute truth of one love, under one God, who knows when you’re being an insufferable, know it all twat, on the alleged right side of ethical moralism, the better.

Shit, at least I’m self-aware enough to proclaim Jesus doesn’t want me for a sunbeam yet. But thank God, I still have time to seek absolution for being the biggest prick in the east, since Alec Baldwin admits no fault for acting like an all-over the place Jew since he quit self-medicating by getting loaded. Short lived Nirvana lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Spirit Of Internet Radio

by doitalldadyear, posted in books, fiction, poetry

What’s racist about Voter ID? Does Julio have to pass a height requirement, I don’t know about yet?

Aren’t white boy’s plagued with white man’s disease, more marginalized in the NBA than their fellow brother man? Who knew that guaranteed money despite zero moves to the left was so oppressive?

And what’s racist about not wanting to wear a mask? Unless John Kerry’s wife demanded the mask mandate be lifted at their Illuminati gang bang retreat in Sun Valley because she considers banging faceless Jew nerds like Good Will Hoodie at Facebook beneath her.

Who wears masks past Halloween, besides serial killers like Leather Face in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or Jason past the NHL playoffs? Rob Zombie isn’t wearing one unless he’s attending an open house at Marilyn Manson’s house after making a killing off the Halloween film’s he directed while slicing Wes Craven’s ego into pieces.

And what’s racist about refusing to get vaccinated with an experimental, potentially deadly vaccine, fake news hippie in the tie dye hoodie? I don’t think doctors in the Nazi party who pushed deadly, experimental vaccines on Jewish kids, gays, and cripples with no regrets are no better than physicians today who don’t condemn the FDA wanting authority to give clot shots on little girls, so their wombs become more polluted than Michelle Pfeiffer in Scarface. How can I be racist if I’m against vaccine mandates, especially on kids, if I think doctors of all creeds, who push an experimental, deadly vaccine on kids to avoid catching an itchy esophagus instead, deserve to be hung at the exact same time Fauci is after’s he’s kicked off his booster seat for Fauci Fright Feast Ends directed by Rob Zombie on Pay-Per-View. Plus, you’re the one that said, “Don’t N lip the Philly blunt like you never got your crack pipe addition under control since the Regan years either. Democrats pushed for Jim Crow, founded the Klan and gave us Obama, the most divisive, Jew hating president of all time, so why don’t you shine your war of the hoodies spiel, and jam it up your Rock loving ass, who endorsed Mr. Groper who called Obama “clean” for an African American by the way. The same Rock who’s also guilty of cultural appropriation for exploiting the Rocky brand name 6 movies later, 8 if you’re counting the Creed’s, for all the HGH it’s worth. You’re the racist one for acting above highbrow, historical fiction humor. Or else you’d retweet this a plus gem joke blast to the Rock on Twitter immediately, “Why wasn’t DMX ever accused of cultural appropriation for thuggin up Teddy Rosevelt’s brand of Rough Riders for all it was worth?” But Biden got more votes than Obama Be Good ever did. Yeah, and DMX gave up weed for catnip for Lent, Challah. Yonker’s finest lives, Yonker’s is getting black as shit up here, Challah, thank you very much.”

Spirt of The Internet Radio: Take down anyone who thinks deplorable is anybody who’s glad Jussie Smollett took a shot.

How is masking up our kids in school the right thing to do like my wife on her birthday? Masks are the new condoms, not. I can’t cream in my wife wearing one either, screaming, “Woo, sex is fun again.”

Masks on little girls, don’t scream Woman’s Lib. They cry, “I’m afraid to die. And my parents haven’t even exposed me to Ingmar Bergman films with subtitles about the random, inevitability of heaven free death yet.”

New York City’s only shot of rescinding all vaccine mandates is if Woody Allen comes out as an anti-vaxer on the View. Can you imagine, the most famous neurotic New Yorker of all time, comes out on the View and says, “I’m not an anti-vaxer. I’m just against turning into you Joy.” Whoopie says, “What does that mean Woody?” Woody says, “It means I’ve got a Soon-Yi and won’t die alone after annoying my partner to death like a bat shit crazy cat lady on the Upper West Side like booger face Joy Whoopie? Plus, I’ve been exposed to more deadly threats than COVID? Like waking up next to the head of Seabiscuit after Mia accused me of molesting all the kids on the UNICEF box after her family. Sure, and Joy Behar is going to picked as the new chief happiness officer for Breitbart.”

I interview for an internal recruiter position with Westchester Jewish Community Service in White Plains, NY. Later, a funny thought emerged. It’s hard to recruit candidates in this climate because Florida and Anti-Semitism are so hot right now.

I’m the only Jew I know who takes Adderall before attending synagogue because organized religion makes me feel so disorganized. Normally, I’d lose my place easily during the never-ending prayer service and peak at other congregation member’s prayer books to see what page we’re on like a direction challenged peeping tom.  Now, I just speed reed at my own pace on Adderall in Synagogue to feel like a more focused Billie Madison in Back to Hebrew School. Who’s more at one with pleasing God by making an effort to focus on his holy presence within his transcribed book to Moses more so than being in tune with the ebbs and flows of hyper organized Jews who can sing these, intended sung, sung prayers without the aid of congregational sing along assistance or use of Karaoke machines to drive greater engagement during Shul singles mixers for Neil Diamond appreciation night.

Nowadays, The Guitar Center should be right of center instead of left. Instead, all their guitar technicians and sales personal wear masks like Buckethead without the career gimmick excuse to hide from in the process. How does the Store Manager for The Guitar Store in Danbury, CT consider himself a rock and roll deviant of any kind by forcing his employees to wear masks at work? What’s his justification exactly? Joni Mitchell got my back, so I don’t have to strangle myself with her haggard hippie shawls from the Capital Records Building while screaming, “Free Falling Mom.” The wildflower crooner from Gainesville lives, Traveling Wilburys forevermore, 2 out of 5 left ain’t bad, Meatloaf shines on to, Challah, thank you very much.

Not everyone at The Guitar Center sucks. The guitar tech on staff laughed when I said, “Becoming in tune with what clear tonalities sound like throughout the neck of my guitar is still a work in motion like trying to get a grip on jerking off with my left for vigorous 15-minute stretches at time, which feels less natural than Neil Young singing about opening the Keystone Pipeline again during Farm Aid because he’s another cheap rocker who prefers cheap gas over demonizing fracking on Twitter, knowing all the Mountain Dew consumption down south will offset all those deplorable low birth rates in no time. At the same time, fuck Spotify and Lisa Simpson. Imagine Trump debating Lisa Simpson through Zoom on the Joe Rogan podcast before it gets killed off permanently. Trump says, “Fracking actually reduces our Co2 emissions Lisa. Lisa Simpson shrieks like Daryl Hannah after Neil Young bruises an avocado from throwing it at the TV after Fox News shows a protest sign from the vaccine mandate trucker protest in Ottawa that says, “COVID Damage Done”, before replying to The Donald in dejected disgust, “”So, Neil Young is full of shit now to?” Trump says, “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint, so that much you share in common babe.” But say hello to Greta Thunberg for me Lisa. Feel free to tell her I don’t sweat global warming because Al Gore’s film career has cooled considerably. Plus, this winter in Palm Beach is colder than Harvey Weinstein’s casting couch at the Four Seasons. Last, I don’t see your messiah Obama Be Good sweating rising water levels at his beachfront estate in Hawaii or in Martha’s Vineyard unless Jimmy Kimmel filled up his bong with extra Smart Water, which add extra bounce to your step, making you feel like Jennifer Aniston on the rebound, but hey, that’s what friends are for. Especially for Obama Be Good Joe, because if Obama is such baller, then why would he ride the bench at an all-Asian private school in Hawaii? In case you’re wondering Lisa, the debate is over like whether Obama run Netflix would ever do a remake of the Bush Dynasty to make Nazi war profiteering great again.   The librarian wife isn’t a fan of me Joe. At least, Hillary took a risk to get rich or die trying bitch. And who saw Ellen coming out as friend of W? Joe says, “Ellen is friends with W?” Trump says, “Joe, I know you smoke a ton of dope, but how do you blank on the image of Ellen palling around in the VIP seats with W at a Cowboys game? You live in Texas now for Christ’s sake. Let me make your standup comedy act a thing of beauty for a change. Ellen’s friends with W, she even admitted it on her show to prove what a non-divisive comedian she is because Ellen is pro Bush all the way.  But what do they do together for fun Joe? Invite Michelle Obama to play a game of Operation, Gender Reassignment edition, if W isn’t too busy inspiring his art apprentice Hunter Biden, the Queen calls him Sir Snort A Lot, with painting more water colors of maimed vets bleeding red and white and blue that he gave PTSD to, since Collin Powell shilled for the war machine, like Kareem Abdul Jabbar does for Big Pharma by pushing vaccine mandates on NBA players like his Pharma mutual fund at Prudential was riding on it. Joe interrupts, “But aren’t you being a fence sitting cunt Donald, by espousing individual choice while pushing booster shots on stage with Bill Oreilly, despite your Operation Warp speed approved vaccine working less than Donald Westbrook running the Triangle Offense? Plus, Dr. Malone, an infectious disease expert, claims kids don’t have to sweat COVID like a pool party invite to Tony Podesta’s house, which has enough pedo installation artwork on the walls to make Marilyn Manson blush. More importantly, if you follow the science or read independent research done by our own military doctors, it’s been proven how these COVID vaccines are responsible for causing enlarged hearts, higher fertility rates, even increased cancer rates, that’s causing young athletes in their prime to collapse and die of heart attacks on the field. If ESPN wasn’t just a safe space for Lebron James’s ego, they’d be reporting on these soccer players being dropped faster than Obama on Broadway after Bruce invites him on stage to Dancing In The Dark. Granted, American’s don’t watch soccer, and Fox News cares less about dead Europeans than OJ’s golf handicap, so how else would Americans know? Have you even contemplated condemning all the doctors pushing these dangerous clot shots on kids Donald, or in some cases, mandating them to attend school like they do in California, when the survival rate for COVID is 99.8 percent? Or are you afraid to be associated with vaccines you put a spit shine on ad nauseum because you prefer to have Dr. Gnocchi be associated with playing fake news God by forcing us to sacrifice our children’s lives to prove our undying love of tyrant Nazis doctors in bed with the FDA and the CCP, Sucking?” Alex Jones lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth