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.

Chapter 23 Fucking Australia

 

Chapter 23

Fucking Australia

Growing up, Joshua got the most sexually charged from the sandy covered navel of Elle The Body MacPherson on the cover of Sports Illustrated, before the magazine started sporting Muslim models in Burkini’s, screaming, “Stayed focused on my Kathy Ireland eyes Infidel.” For a native New Yorker, Australian accents never sounded too intrusive in public like some stuffy, mole faced Brit was sticking their tongue down your throat without granting them permission. Still, Joshua would always bust his brother-in-law’s balls, he grew up in Australia for a bit, for his tendency to revert back to his Aussie heavy accent whenever he hit on girls before getting married, because without revitalizing the accent of old, he had zero pick up game around woman whatsoever. Citing your time in San Diego, working as a video game tester, didn’t inspire fetching beauties in the gas light district, to mount his uncircumcised flap of mound on the spot. But Joshua would give credit where credit is earned, especially, when his now official brother in law, made a comment at his wedding, stating, “I never knew anyone who could love my sister as much as Joshua does.” Now, you can also interpret that statement as a backhanded compliment, implying, I never found the bitch too lovable to begin with. Instead, Joshua interpreted the warm-hearted homage, as a moving testament, to the power of love. Also, when Joshua had announced to his future in-laws, at a restaurant in Park Slope, Brooklyn about being engaged to their Aussie reared daughter, before the family was uprooted to Greenville, Delaware, known for it’s state slogan, “Your Nazi Gold is safe with us”, you could hear the empty bottle of poison drop after Hitler and Eva Braun croaked on a serving of self-defeat, no longer feeling so masterful against the dying of the light. Still, in spite of the prolonged period of never ending, infuriating building silence, Anna’s younger brother, showcased his inner mensch, raising his wine glass, to toast the announcement. Later, he took a friendly bonding stroll with Joshua through the bucolic, Brownstone dominated streets of Park Slope north of 6th Avenue toward Prospect Park, Frederick Olmsted’s favorite park creation even more so than Central Park for all those Ken Burns suck him off wannabes at home. Anna’s younger brother even commented on the relief their union brought him saying, “Falling in love with his sister was great for her because of her being deep into the raver scene prior.” Again, Joshua thought this was a very classy touch, knowing the love of his life, had a younger brother, who cared about her well being and overall happiness, more than he normally would make you believe.

Joshua loved the tour group he met during his trip to the Great Barrier Reef on his honeymoon, after they erupted in laughter from his old bit about them wanting to get married in Australia but making a compromise, stating, “Babe, assuming we have a boy together one day, instead of hiring a Moyle for the circumcision, will hire Crocodile Dundee, just so we can hear a room full of Jews, say, now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.”

Before Joshua, took a recent trip to London for the 1st time, with Anna he reached out to Jim Jefferies manager, accessing his email address on good old IMDB Pro and emoted about the incredible body of masterful comedic work, they’ve amassed together, inspiring Joshua to exploit his own catchphrase, “unhuggable cunt”, for all it was worth, considering the Aussie funny man’s fondness for his serially unapologetic, consistently hilarious use of the word himself for profitable gain. If a wannabe, funny man, resistor Twitter twat, couldn’t handle sticking to being a poor man’s, woke Bill Simmons, at Deadspin like Drew Magary and actually exuded more impactful, jealous inducing, ha, ha inducing prose or palpable, likeable gravitas of any kind, Joshua would feel compelled to call him an unhuggable cunt also. Jim Jefferie’s manager gave Joshua a very warm response, offering to send his demo stand up reel to the gate keeper in charge of the Edinburgh comedy festival, where Dennis Leary launched his famed comedy career back in the day, before he started fashioning himself as a political comic, you should give 2 shits about like a lesser, Nick Di Paolo minus the millennial fan base catering slobbering placation.

When Joshua went to Australia on his honeymoon with his pregnant wife Anna, he swears by hearing the hum of the universe as he floated on his back in a brook among the great, Daintree Rainforest near, Port Douglas, tapping into a deep, holy, lost in time when the Dinosaurs roamed there back in the day vibrations. Joshua struggled with summoning enough faithful courage to stop fighting against the unnatural act of breathing out of a fucking snorkeling breathing device, to prevent you from drowning to death, as he showed a spec of manhood and took a mini plunge into the pristine, clear blue waters of the Great Barrier Reef, taking in a Kaleidoscope of God’s most colorful fishes and finest finger painting handy work down under. Similar to when Joshua drove cross country to California his senior year of college for his last semester of school, he didn’t want his time immersed in such awe inspiring, God decorated, mind blowing, soul soothing beauty to end.

Joshua will never forget an encounter he had with an older than dirt car driver on his Honeymoon in Victoria, during their stay at a gorgeous, Victorian Chalet as Joshua relished reading books in their study from the highly readable, English writer, DH Lawrence, who wrote with actual flowy, accessible, expressive felt feeling. Joshua and Anna were off to some vineyard for lunch and the writer driver got a tad huffy, confrontational with him during their short drive, saying in so many words, you’ll never make it as a successful writer, I wrote a couple of novels and I’m driving you around fucking Victoria in a monkey suit to pay my alimony payments as I fight the temptation to drive straight into Mother’s Beach right now, and take the 2 of you love birds with me. But Joshua was a New Yorker, born and raised, and wasn’t going to let any fucking hack Australian dictate what he’d achieve in this world because most Americans don’t even know who Jim Jefferies is, case closed, let alone Jon Safran, the erudite, never been accused of raping his daughter Aussie, alternative, Yeshiva schooled, version of Woody Allen, who Joshua was more impressed with funny man, thought wise, if he had to choose.

 

 

Lebron James Sticking to Politics

I’m convinced Lebron James got the idea to sport a fake news cast during the NBA playoffs from Michelle Obama. After she threatened, to break her arm in Obama’s ass, next time he dared to offer Beyoncé a glass of Paul Newman’s Lemonade over a batch of her homemade Kombucha.

I loved the NBA when it didn’t exist as a safe space for Lebron James ego.  Refs are scared of calling traveling on Lebron James because they don’t want to be accused of oppressive, racial profiling during game 7 in the NBA finals against the Boston Celtics. Ref Duffy says. Relax king of the persecution complex. I just called traveling on you. Stop acting like a threw you up against a wall for being out past lights on Newbury Street.

If Lebron James loses to the Clippers this year. Will Obama console himself by digging into his secret stash of Almond Joys in the garage behind a box of duct tape from Costco? Joan lives.

If Obama is such a baller at basketball, then why did he ride the bench at an all Asian private school in Hawaii?

Lebron admits to liking Enemim now because he’s a never Trumper rapper resistor. Trump’s a Nazi bro. Actually, when Trump bought Mara A Lago, he immediately, lifted the permanent ban on Jewish membership Slim on Facts Shady.

This is Eminem and Dre discussing the merger between Microsoft and LinkedIn. Dre says. Hey, slim Microsoft paid 4.7 billion dollars for LinkedIn. Worrrrrrrrrrrrrd. LinkedIn is lamer than ever yoh.

But Lebron is boys with Snoop Dog also, which makes him a class act through association, knowing Snoop’s dog hovers a notch above porn hood hell.

His boy Jay Z say he didn’t stand for the national anthem because he was protesting Demi Lovato brutalizing the national anthem, sounding too much like a white privileged Alabama Shakes in the process.  Meanwhile, the Queen of England is at home in Buckingham palace watching Beyoncé sitting her ass out for the National Anthem also, thinking, “I thought Meghan Markle was a royal pain in the ass.” For trying to hock Princess Diana’s ballerina slippers on eBay after Michelle Obama stretched them out beyond repair.

Lebron doesn’t want NBA owners who pay his salary, to be called owners because he isn’t a player owner like Michael Jordan yet. Nor is he talented enough like Magic to make HIV disappear.

A new rumor is Lebron James might run for President of the Unites States. What’s going to be King James’s campaign slogan? Free college for student athletes. Wait a minute that already exists.  That’s right, King James will offer free college for all dreamers if they let him patent Taco Tuesday already.

Lebron’s already stood for the Chinese national anthem and instructed his Laker team to sit out the anthem.  That’s right, he’s protesting police brutality compared to mowing down monks in tanks and criminal justice reform his boy Jigga played zero role in erecting, despite his past cracking selling years, responsible for sending hundreds if not thousands of young black babies into premature hell.

Lebron’ wants to become President of The United States so bad, just so he could tell Laura Ingraham to stick to being a less ghoulish Ann Coulter.

Michael Kornbluth