A Plus Alter Ego

Free Kathy Griffin.

Pass the barf bag, Trans Chucky Nation.

I wouldn’t fuck Trans Chucky with Chaz Bono’s Mr. Potato Head appendage.

Twitter is Brooke Shields.

Kathy Griffin wants to be her fawned over bestie so bad.

But Brooke Shields never gave Trans Chucky the time of day anyway.

Not even Bravo wants to be followed by Kathy Griffin on Twitter.

Andy Cohen bemoans.

Go back to the Luna Lounge and reenact the time Joan Rivers called you a no talent never was bitch to your face. At least Chelsea Handler knows how to tell a joke. Since she became a social justice warrior to downplay her tits sagging popularity. All you do Kathy is use your hands on stage like Archie in drag at a Trump rally on Fox News.

Andy Cohen adds.

Is Jill Biden our 1st scarecrow lady? Oh yeah, I went there, I’m a gay Jew, I got diplomatic immunity bitches. Suck on it and weep Chappelle and friends. But Elon Musk banning impersonations is gayer than Aaron Carter dying with Monkey Pox from Dr. Gnocchi’s man-made Aids monkey.

Elon Musk wants nothing to do with Zit Face Zuck.

So, he’s outlawing impersonations or anything creepily resembling his meta verse bust.

It’s also not hard to impersonate Elon Musk.

Just look deep in thought about defending Joe Rogan’s defense of joke integrity, skip tanning and leave bronzing to Trumpy Tits.

I love Elon Musk exerting technical power over d list hack celebrities.

For him, desktop support is kicking his feet up on a bust of Walt Disney’s head on top of his new ice tomb desk for Christmas.

Howard Stern fears a second Civil War if Hershall Walker wins.

You’d think core exercises on the Pelton App with Ashton Kutcher would make you less of a pussy Howard.

Placate to your Pedo Joe fan base left, so you’re not disinvited from any more 2 bite chicken parm dinners at Jimmy Kimmel’s house.

Attended an Owl demonstration at a local farm. Guide described pigeons as slow. I said, “So stool pigeons are the John Fetterman’s of the animal kingdom in hoodies.”

Later, we dissected an owl pellet for bones and found nothing. I say, “It’s like high school all over again babe, I’m bone free.”

My daughter just got a water bottle from Lulu Lemon and is ecstatic. She acts as if she was water bottle shamed at school prior. “

Mean Girl says, “Target water bottles are so deplorably depressing don’t you think? You’re better off just reusing the same bottle of Coconut water and refilling it with regular tap water instead”.

Attended a Bar Mitzvah in New Jersey. The female Rabbi was such a hack. Female Rabbi spent every 2 seconds talking about climate change and there not being an earth left. And how her side preserves while other one destroys. Canter interjects to point out how the climate activist Rabbi is from California. And I’m thinking, it shows. Surprised, she didn’t plug Nancy Pelosi’s jugs as taps of divinity, Hillary Hammer Time Cankles would love to go motorboating with.

Will be relaunching my IT staffing career soon under my alter ego, Joshua Kornbluth, which I have no problem with. I have enough egos to go around. A Plus Alter Egos Rule, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Shooting The Shit With Jill Biden

Imagine Easter Sunday at the Biden’s Delaware estate this year? First, things get tense for Hunter’s new wife Melissa Cohen when Dr. Jill Biden says, “So today, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus after your people heckled the Romans into crucifying our Messiah to death.”

Melissa Cohen replies, “I don’t give a shit either way Jill. I’m an atheist myself. Still, my father a conservative Jew, would disagree with your messiah premise. He wouldn’t call your hubby putting up fencing around the White House as an incoming symbol of world peace, would you? If Obama wasn’t a secret, gay Muslim, I totally could’ve seen him putting World Peace 2.0 on his gym locker at one of those private gay bathhouse clubs in Chicago to remain anonymous though. My family celebrates the Passover holiday. You know the holiday where we sub IPA’s for giant stale unleavened crackers. Not that most Jews are heavy drinkers compared to our gentile nation, but you get the gist. I know drinking is the least of Hunter’s concerns. Plus, I’m positive despite you being a gentile, you’re capable of recognizing the hilarious irony of your son from a different mother, giving up blow for blow painting. Also, cut the Mother Theresa act Jill. Everyone in Delaware knows Joe had an affair with you when he was still married before the horrific tragic car crash, which you’ve collectively exploited politically for all it’s worth, which doesn’t sound very Christ like to me. Then again, the Crusades happened to get back at the all non-believers such as my people the Jews, despite Christianity not being an official religion back in ancient biblical times during the time of Jesus’s death. Also, I never understood why Christians hate Jews so much, assuming they were Christ Killers or not. First, Jesus was a Jew and gentiles weren’t flocking to see Schindler’s List opening weekend. Second, if Jesus doesn’t get crucified, the Bible part 2 is never written. There’s no record of Jesus ever ascending to heaven, giving his 12 apostles to write his comeback life tale with the promise of eternal life, assuming you acknowledge Jesus as the only self-anointed, bouncer gatekeeper of heaven and king of the Jewish people, despite possessing zero ancestry DNA with King David or King Solomon after him, just saying. How many Jewish friends do you have Jill, being a real doctor and all? But plenty of Jews hurt our people’s image such as Bernie Madoff, Harvey Weinstein, that crystal meth head, Adam Schiff. Trust me, after knowing your son during his druggy years, I know a meth head when I see one. If Adam Schiff’s eyes were any bigger buggier, he’d be John Holmes in Wonderland, assuming his best friend is another scumbag Democratic operative like Ed Buck being charged for manslaughter for getting black homeless escorts overdose on crystal meth in his West Hollywood pad before exchanging their services. Let’s just meet in the middle and agree Adam Schiff is no angel of light or will ever be confused for being a chosen cosmic perfectionist of any kind. So, if I wanted to drop Hunter’s IPHONE into the garbage can outside of Janssen’s Market, love their Filet Mignon Egg Sandwich by the way, with pictures of him putting a gun to my head during some kinky role playing, when I play the computer repairman’s daughter in Wilmington, Delaware. Would the Secret Service keep those pics under wraps for us, or am I blowing your husband’s compromised deep state relationship with the Secret Service and China completely out of proportion? Xi is a good a guy Jill? You know nobody believes that shit Jill, especially the suicide net makers for Apple. Granted, you haven’t taught in years but deliver that line about Xi being a great guy to every mother whose had to quit their jobs to help monitor their kids remoting learning experience, with no burning mask parities in sight, vaccine mandated or not, despite more kids dying of suicide this year than from fucking COVID. And maybe then, I’ll respect your alleged Christian good deed hued nature again babe. At least our baby boy is a boy. So keeping Joe away from any future hair sniffing incidents, is one last thing I need to worry about it. I didn’t marry into the Podesta family for a reason.

Michael Kornbluth

Made In Wuhan


Biden mandated that no US government employee can call COVID 19, The China Virus or the Wu-Flu. I prefer to call it, Our Country Is Shit Out Of Luck Club.

If we the people, let the CDC, the WHO and Fuck Face Fauci dictate whether America becomes China’s masked bitch for life.

What did they call COVID behind closed doors at the Department of Homeland Security before Biden got his nappy in a bunch over so called hate speech? Biological Warfare falls under the Department of Agriculture.

What did fat ass William Barr call the COVID virus when he was in charge of destroying what credibility remained within the Department Of Justice? Ain’t No Thing, But Poisoned Peeking Duck On A String.

What did the Department of Defense say about the COVID 19 behind closed doors before Biden’s shut up and don’t rat on the Chinse mandate began? That’s what Americans get for electing a President who didn’t start any major new wars under his watch, who finally gave Vets the hospital service they deserve? Who ordered the US military to crush ISIS in the same time it takes Jared Kushner to blow a load in Ivanka whenever she talks dirty to him in Mandarin on his birthday again.

What did the Department of Veteran Affairs call the COVID Virus before Biden thought he possessed the authority to tell our vets how to label the real enemy behind the new red scare 2.0? Lebron and Nike sitting in a Chinese Maple Tree, SUCKING.

The Masturbator Equalizer

“Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.”

Salvador Dali

“Money equals middle finger power”, is what my Dad always told me growing up in our quaint yet artistically loaded Comedy Grant House 50 minutes North of Manhattan within the bucolic, historically tiny village of Croton Falls, famous for being the birthplace of my dear dada’s famous catchphrase, “Can I get a holla for some Challah?”, on his Do It All Dad podcast that ultimately got him a recording label deal to produce comedy record 100 Too Tall Jew, on Blessed Records and the rest is comedy gold machine making history. Personally, I preferred the comedy record title, Birds Eye View Bitches, but Daddy thought that it was tad long winded even for Bob Dylan’s tastes. At the Montreal Comedy Festival Daddy got big laughs when he said, ‘”Sorry pops, but when you live in Arizona for a decade and counting and still haven’t visited the Grand Canyon, you’re a fake news hippy. I don’t care if your Bob Dylan station on Pandora suggest otherwise.

Still, growing up Papa, my grandfather, nicknamed my daddy, Waste of Height because my father is a 6’4 Jewish New Yorker, who’s only highlight when playing Varsity basketball senior year was scoring 10 points against an all-Japanese team, which isn’t hard when the opposing players thought the pick and roll, mean their choice of fish. Now, my dad was being billed by Rolling Stone as Killer Set Kornbluth, while Variety magazine hailed him as the new giant of late night after replacing Bill Maher with a new talk show called Seriously Clowning. So, at this point in his life, my dad had every right to look down on any soul sucker dream detractor who tried to make him feel like a delusional, crazy man narcissist for pursing A plus comedic glory with a middle finger power mansion located at the highest point in Bel Air next to Jerry’s Lewi’s old school crib. So, the shelf life behind papa’s degrading nickname, Waste of Height, in relation to his 1st born blossoming son, no thanks to his encouraged direction had gone sailing, Dean Martin, lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

But daddy is what you would call a late bloomer, who didn’t start tasting big deal success till his late forties, combining that with a sexless marriage, with a man who is far from straight, on top of his mom wanting him to sling other’s people’s garbage instead of his own A plus gemry jokes for a living one day, combined with in-laws who force fed Eucharist on his Jew blood tainted kids behind his back, combined with zero creative collaborators outside of his own children during his 5 year journey into the wilderness while kicking is decade long addiction to Adderall for good, resulted in creating a tsunami of resentment fueled rage that almost burnt out what love spreader light that existed left in my dear dada’s endlessly beautifying, beyond spiritualized projecting soul, before it was too late.  Because of that, Daddy did everything in his power to ensure I established moonbeam blast shot goals early as possible compared to his mother urging her “artist son”, to settle and shoot for shit by chucking the joke writing career all together and become a full-time garbage man like Magic Johnson’s father in Lansing, Michigan. Obviously, Magic Johnson dad’s is a stellar example of being a God loving, do it all dad done good. Still, Magic’s dad also slung other’s people’s trash, so his son wouldn’t have to, similar to Papa schlepping over the George Washington Bridge for 25 years only to get nickeled and dimed by the likes of Potomka Pickles while working as VP of Sales for a plastics and glass company in Union, New Jersey, otherwise known as the Swamp Thing State, so his 1st born wouldn’t have to follow in his steps and blaze a new trail of funny man innovation to derive prideful enrichment of some kind on his own.

But what really pissed off my dad was Papa resisting the notion that I had genius potential in me because his waste of height son was too much a mongoloid moron in his eyes to birth such a star powered, out of this world seedling capable of moving millions with my own powers of imagination, poetic lift and storytelling powered song. Daddy went to Ithaca College, which he derided as Cornell’s retarded next door neighbor. But he graduated from the distinguished Roy H. Park School of Communications, so he could suck down some bingers of extra strong Tompkin’s country outdoor weed and avoid stuttering every other 2 seconds. I loved the idea of going to Columbia growing up, yet Daddy viewed Manhattan as yesterday’s news and planted the idea of me attending Williams University in Massachusetts instead, because former owner of the Yankees George Steinbrenner, otherwise known as the Boss, was a famous alumnus and larger than life NY bred personalities like George Steinbrenner don’t get any big more time than that. Plus, Daddy loved the standup comedian Jim Norton who claimed Boston woman were the best to slay with. Also, at Uncle John’s wedding, AKA, Sir Snort a Lot, Daddy said, “God gave my younger brother more second shots at respectable redemption than what George Steinbrenner gave Steve Howe”, which got goonish at the time. Plus, I remember my dad driving us to the Manhattan to go skating at 30 Rock once for my birthday and he points out the new Yankee stadium off the Deegan and says, “Look Matilda, the new Yankee Stadium, the house that gentrification built.” I knew all about Reggie Jackson otherwise known as Mr. October, who hit not one but 3 first pitch baseball homers in 1979 to clinch the World Series for the Yankees at the original Yankee stadium, otherwise known as the house, that Ruth built. I also knew that Babe Ruth had the most homers during his day but had the most strike outs to, because there was nothing half ass about the Babe who went down swinging, coming through in the clutch with his back against the wall like the great Messier, Derek Jeter, Andy Petite, Eli Manning and Frank Sinatra all the way. Daddy imparted the lesson of why New Yorker’s have big time egos for a reason. When Daddy actually contemplated moving our family to Texas during year 2 of COVID, I said, “Daddy, how many great comedians are from Texas? Daddy said, “Bill Hicks and Sam Kinson.” I say, “Bill Hicks only made me laugh once. And Sam Kinson had one good comedy album from start to finish that was pure standup without the cheesy Wild Thing cover song on it, that’s it. Now, name me star comedians from New York? Daddy says “Rodney Dangerfield, Andrew Dice Clay, Lenny Bruce, Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Greg Giraldo, Joan Rivers, George Carlin. Have I mentioned myself yet? Alright you’re right, Texan comedians suck compared to native New Yorkers, Joe Rogan included.”

For some time, I just wanted to be a singer and write my own songs, singing in pubs like Amy Winehouse without developing the heroin addition, yet my dad insisted I become an A Plus student and accept no other goal acceptable, so he could boast to his new comedy manager and rapper friends in South Africa, where his new record label was located, that his daughter went to Williams College, which rocks the old world King Solmon Royal purple. And my Do It All Dad thought the deep purple look exuded an edgy deep suave vibe similar to Jimmy Hendrix’s head tripping beanbag within the mixing room at Electric Lady Land studios in Manhattan. Daddy also had a black and white picture of famed writer director Bill Wilder in his old office where the famed writer, director of Ace In The Hole and Fortune’s Cookie, was marching in his office with his talking stick of sorts as his famed screenwriter partner Charles Brackett is on the writer’s  couch in letting him go long again, who is another Williams alum that helped co-write Sunset Blvd, which is good work if you can get it.  The other line Daddy would always pound into my cranium growing up was from Stephen Sondheim, which is, “God is in the details”, and the famous Broadway composer lyrist graduated from Williams to, so dumb, dumb burn outs didn’t even bother to apply. Reality is, I almost never got into Williams College nor ended up becoming the female Carl Jung of my day post COVID damage done after graduating Magna Cum Laude after triple majoring in English, Psychology and Philosophy, achieving the trifecta of liberal arts lunacy, I know. But believe it or not, my fate at William’s became sealed, not because of my college essay where I insist Carl Sagen was mothered by a starless atheist cunt who gave Booger face Behar on the View a whiff of semi-respectability in comparison for a change when she asked Don Lemon why he was nothing more than another race war inciting scumbag like Jussie Smollett minus the SAG card after she got red pilled by Russell Brand from turning her on to the Do It All Dad Year Podcast during bi-sexual pride appreciate month, I think. Actually, pursuing the harder, less shit laden path started by Daddy posting an ad on Craig’s List for a jerk buddy in search of more than a friend.  

“Why did I post an ad for a jerk buddy on Craig’s List? Because I thought it was healthy alternative to laughing at my own material on the couch after my daughter was tucked in, before breaking up with my wife off 11 years, again and again”, A 45-Year-Old divorced Comedian says to his chesty, red headed, Psychologist who was an English and Psychology major at Willaims herself. Mara Weitzman, the Psychologist from Williams says, “What if I jerk off your ego instead of some random stranger on Craig’s List, who would give Jim Norton the creeps?” Do It All Dad, now a divorced still struggling comedian, living on the couch of his Film Grip bud in Ridgefield, CT who wants to be the Bill Graham of Death Metal festivals in Upstate New York one day, says, “Does my health insurance cover that added expenditure on my behalf?  Psychologist Mara Weitzman says, “Remember, the time you talked about that 1st hand job you got from Carolyn Verdichio, in Cotswold Park, which you nicknamed Actionless Park in your bit at the Montreal Comedy about how you’re no gentle giant or else why would you insist on staying home to ignore your kid for the privilege of writing more jokes while choking your wife too hard financially, again and again? You described your 1st hand job as a throbbing extension of your brutishly rough personality, to the point where she almost skinned your pussy wrecker rearranger alive, while your jeans kicked wildly in the mud like a hardheaded hog in heat. Well, what if we reenact the moment right now? I played the steel guitar growing up in Plano Texas, so I’ve got stronger hands that most. Let me if see if I can yank out that rough side out of you for good. I’ll even put in a good word for your daughter at the Williams College during admissions season. Do It All Dad drops his pants and says, “I don’t feel like such a self-centric jerkoff anymore. Mara Weitzman, you’re the only masturbator equalizer for me. Now rip off that top and start jerking it like its 1999.  I’ll give those busty beauties a liberal load to boast about it when you pump up my long-term endowment potential to your fellow alum members after I blow you away with a blast of teen spirit of my own. Kurt Cobain lives, Challah. Mara screams in extreme anticipatory ecstasy, “Nirvana, come reign on me.” Minutes later, Psychologist Mara Weitzman buttons up her top and puts her murky stained glasses back on and says, “See you next Tuesday Do It All Dad. Williams College will be lucky to have your daughter attend next fall, if she follows after your money blasting footsteps. Thank you, very, very much.”

Michael Kornbluth

Reimagining Tea For Dad

Dad says, “Tea is gay.”

I say, “Do you want your 1st born to achieve his Do It All Dad Year or not?”

Dad says, “Does your Do It All Dad Year include you doing guys on the down low? I don’t get it.”

I reply, “I bet the voice of Alexa isn’t manly enough for you pops. Why don’t I change the voice of Alexa to the voice of Scarlett Johansson who sounds like she’s stuck between estrogen throat blocker treatments.”

Dad says, “I’d change the voice of Alexa to Samuel L. Jackson.”

I say, “Alexa, who told Samuel L Jackson it looks cool to dress up like Spike Lee’s Grandma, who identifies as a Jazz Critic descendent of Sonny Rollins, in Tyler Perry’s new film, The Uppity Cunt?”

Dad says, “You don’t like black people.”

I say, “Dad, how many black girls have you banged named Porsha? That’s what I thought. But good luck trying to gay shame me into resuming my lushy ways over drinking tea like Bruce Lee again pops. And even if I was 30 years gay, you got 3 grandchildren out of it pops, so you came out on top. And that’s how the tea leaves crumble.”

The vax lessens the symptoms, didn’t you hear?

Forget fatigue, you’ll storm the Capital Building like the Running Man after DeSantis wins in a patriot made landslide, no amount of election fraud can conceal.

No more headaches, just a mild irritation of the ears like the Muslim Call to Prayer on a busted loudspeaker in Astoria, Queens.

First an itchy esophagus, now you’ll be deep throating Lexington Steele replicas without it feeling like your tonsils just got punctured to pieces in the process.

Fever finished. Just measured smug superiority flowing forward.

Shortness of breath ends. Now, you’ll last longer than Jared Kushner in the sack with Ivanka despite her talking boring dirty to him in Mandarin on his birthday again.

Coughing comes to a screeching halt. Now, you’ll suck down medicinal strength dispensary weed out of a metal bat made in Wuhan and you’ll be flying high again.

Muscle aches become orgasmic mush on pure E from 1995.

Naps become siestas with Penelope Cruz falling asleep on your crotch to put her motor mouth lisp to sleep in the process.

Diarrhea is replaced by out of this world, beyond substantial dumps like you just inhaled an entire protein pea farm in one sitting.

Difficulty breathing ends although if Pearl Necklace Harris becomes President all bets are off. Calling that bitch erratic, is an insult to stable schizophrenics holding down government jobs in Quebec.

Congestion gone. Who cares if your media worshiping whores are still full of shit from head to toe already?

Michael Kornbluth

Sketches Of Ridgefield

The best thing about breastfeeding today is that you can’t blame low supplies on supply chain problems. Plus, you feel much less pain at the pump.

My wife The Boob Doctor, who works as a lactation consultant, sampled a speech on me last night about breastfeeding. When she said, “Were not in the business of starving babies.” I said, “Assuming, those mommies are modeled after Jessica Simpson. I don’t think my mom had one bottle leftover between her.”

Tried to go short shopping at Vans today. A checkered print of red shorts appealed to me, but then I thought, “You have too many grey hairs in your beard to pull of those shorts asshole.”

I’ve lost all patience with my daughter’s friends who don’t acknowledge my presence whenever I pick her up from camp. I say, “If Mazel hates her mom so much, she should stop acting like such a scrunchie face cunt in my presence, no offense.” Later, I try to act nicer and say, “Mazel just morphs into an uppity bitch in my presence when I pick you up from camp because she’s just pissed about having to part with the sweetest friend she doesn’t deserve to have.” Daughter says, “What do you expect Mazel to do in your presence daddy?” I say, “Dictate a thank note into her smartphone in front of me when I pick you up from camp in real time in front of all her counselors about why she’d turn into a Godless cum dumpster without the beautifying, anchoring influence that you bless her life with because you stem from my Do It All Dad Year Tree Trunk for starters. #Hang10Dad. Robert Schimmel lives. Challah, thank you very much.

Did you know that Jeff Bezos dumped his wife for a woman who used to be married to Hall of Fame Tight End Tony Gonzalez? I don’t care how big his dick pics are. Happy denting, AJAX Man.

Then, the lady at the bookstore in Ridgefield, CT finishes laughing and says, “Are you in our system?” And I say, “All of a sudden, I feel like a registered sex offender with Woody Allen’s autobiography in my hand. Did you know that Woody used to keep naked polaroids of a 9-year-old Soon-Yi stuffed into his top sock drawer? The only pic missing from his spank collection was the one of Soon-Yi crying on the cover of Time Life Magazine. I almost forgot, do you also have the book Comedy, Drama by Bob Odenkirk? Personally, my favorite Bob Odenkirk role was him playing Larry Sander’s agent on the Larry Sanders show when he wore his assholishness on a sleave. But it’s impossible to not think of my brother when I repeat the title Comedy, Drama, because he’ll do cocaine and Ambien at the same time. Next level sketchy lives. How indecisive can you be bro? You’re more indecisive than Jared Kushner holding up the salad bar line at the Bellagio. Actually, met Gary Shandling at an art show in Pasadena, when I was catering, working on my smile ready face, because growing up I didn’t have much muscle memory to flex from whatsoever. Gary Shandling said, “Keep writing and you’ll look like me.”

She says, “So did you keep writing?” And I said, “Yeah, I got my TV writing break with Vh1 Classic on America’s Hard 100 that was hosted by WWE star Chris Jericho. He wouldn’t touch the steroid shrinkage joke I wrote for him out of respect for Vince McMahon. He didn’t want to be Owen Hart without a safety net with no harness to pull him back from the point of no return. I’ve also recorded 113 comedy records since. John Lennon wished he was this productive during his stay-at-home dad years. My last comedy record, Crazy Stones after Lapping Losers was made in honor of Oliver Stone’s crazy stones, whose half Jewish by the way. Put another one on that board. You know your dad is a fake news hippie if he vehemently denies the CIA’s role in taking out JFK. Never visiting the Grand Canyon after living in Arizona for 10 years, doesn’t help bolster your case against being a fake news hippie dad, fake news hippie. I don’t care if your Bob Dylan station on Pandora suggests otherwise. Also, where are all the Philosophy books? Oh, their placed all the way at the bottom here at the bottom of the food chain where all their diplomas belong. I’m in no position to act more evolved secure after graduating from a top communication school with a stutter to become another schmuck in a headset IT recruiter out of college like the rest. I went to Ithaca college in upstate NY, otherwise known as Cornell’s retarded next-door neighbor. But I could suck down back-to-back to bingers and not manage to stutter every other 2 seconds. Wait a minute, 30 bucks for Bob Odenkirk’s Breaking Balls, you’ve got to me kidding me. I snorted crystal meth thinking it was cocaine once. 5 hours later after one line, I acted like an extra speedy Tony the Tiger, going, “This shit is great.” The come down was far from great. Later, I call the dude who gave me the bump from hell and say, “Dude that was really strong coke. I thought I was going to die in my own arms that night.” He said, “Dude that wasn’t coke, that was crystal meth. I thought you knew the difference.” And I said, “I didn’t realize you were conducting the Pepsi Challenge.” Eighties Don Draper lives if he didn’t die of lung cancer in the eighties. Have I mentioned my push to push my daughter into becoming a lesbian yet? Because she can’t die of Aids or get cervical cancer from HPV if you get the vaccine for it that actually works better than Russell Westbrook running the Triangle offense This way my Lesbian leaning daughter can take a licking and keep on ticking. I don’t have any business cards on me but just ask Alexa to play Michael Kornbluth if I’ve aroused your interesting in wanting to be stuffed with more totality of me.” Challah, thank you very much.

Book Lady says, “Vince Mcmahon is a nice man. One time I went to a restaurant in Darien, CT and he paid for everybody’s dinner.” I said, “He gave a touching homage to Andre The Giant in his doc on HBO, unlike bleeding heart Rob Reiner. Who insisted, Andre the Giant was wasted throughout the entire shooting of Princess of Pride. Great job, ruining any last connection to my age of innocence asshole. Billy Crystal’s ho hum commentary didn’t help, adding, “I couldn’t understand Andre as a one syllable grunt as the Sasquatch in the 6 million Dollar Man.” Fuck you, Billy Crystal. Your face looks like a rotten apple head who identifies as a dried-up Danish with a goatee with all funny man color stripped from your hallowed edgeless core for the past 15 years and counting. Rob Reiner adds, “Andre could barely catch Buttercup descending from the castle because his back muscle was mushier than a plate of brie left in the summer Provence sun. ” Book Lady says, “Keep writing, Totality Of Me, keep writing. Thank you, very, very much.”

Michael Kornbluth

Animated Daddy

You think my son sounds like a cartoon because of his high-pitched voice? I bet he’s still prettier to look at than your daughter if she takes after you. Then again, should I really be upset at your charge of my son not sounding Trans baritone enough for your liking? The kid’s only 7. At least, he has a beautiful mind to convey, you get tense at Lena Dunham jokes because your excessive preponderance of gums takes up your entire face when you talk, which would make anyone feel like an undesirable fatty inside. But if you’re trying to imply that my son sounds like a fairy pin up girl for Disney Kids in the making, I’m glad. At least, he’ll never feel that his free will is being guilted or shamed into pumping your wench laden box on your birthday again. Instead, he’ll be building resorts in Key West to avoid fag hag turning wenches like yourself with divine powered authority as he continues build new towers of love, way up high, high, into the sky, sky. Because the Sun Butter King will be free of nagging, blast off time inhibiting energy as his mo money minting mojo keeps on rising, rising. Arthur Morrison Kornbluth shines again. Suck on it on longtime hacky hag, Challah. Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Radioactive Resume Theories

Son says, “Daddy, don’t leave me for New Jersey.” I say, “But desperate times call for desperate actions, when you’re 46 years old with a marriage to hold together and have 3 kids to feed after a 9-year vacation from life to work on finding your voice as a Stay At Home She Male Comedian Podcast Host Author Blogger who’s been fired more than a Palestinian Sling Shot.”

Son says, “Why, can’t you get a job again moron son? And when can we start selling your comedy records this summer? I get to sell Flipper Bird Baby and Not Kosher Baby because I’m on the cover licking Finn’s butt Daddy, deal? But seriously Daddy, do you have 10,000 morons stuck in your head, Ancient Moron?

I say, “I don’t need a resume coach or a climate scientist to tell me why my writing career is colder than Harvey Weinstein’s casting couch at the 4 Seasons. In fact, I’m capable of formulating some radioactive resume theories of my own Scientific American, for starters, 9 Gap Years +No Proof of Vaccination =Twice fucked at getting a job in Mr. Groper’s America Jack.

Others culture clash fit theories that come to mind are. You’re too full of yourself to judge your talent assessment skills objectively. In other words, you’re blinded by narcissistic right, like the rest.

Outsiders don’t see daddy as a real man or as dependable provider of any kind, especially when mama’s smart phone sends her an alert whenever I make another questionable purchase. Mommy calls, “Hey babe, so how was bride of Chucky?”

What else makes my resume lack all form of gravitational pull kid? The glaring expanse of gap years on my resume is bigger than when Sandra Bernhardt says cheese.

HR won’t even download my resume on to their desktops out of fear of it eroding their belief in the common good after learning through one of my podcasts how I’m another domestic terrorist dad who protested against the masking of our children like Michael’s Jackon’s kids on holiday in Bahrain during the July 4th release of my Burning Mask Party Record.

Wendy in HR almost chokes up her Shroom Burger from Shake Shack after reading my desired salary preference of 85K per year when I haven’t had any form of steady taxable income to report since hate speech was invented to silence anyone who questioned whether the Russian collusion tale used to spy on Trump while running for office had less legs than Lieutenant Dan.

Listing Allah as a character reference, only to accuse a prospective employer of being Islamophobic, if they don’t respect my religion of peace knowing my last name is Kornbluth is a new low like Baby Face Omar Gona Work It Out describing the death of Amy Winehouse on the anniversary of her death on Twitter as something happened to a devil horn concealing, beehive sporting, colonial imperialist who exploited the Great Palestinian Song Book for all it was worth.  

It’s hard to engage in foreplay with a new lover of me on the open market as a stay-at-home dad when your wife can’t even get excited about kinky foreplay of any kind anymore because you’re already choking her too hard financially.

Talking about yourself in the 3rd person in your resume bio for a copywriter role in South Carolina is crossing the ego mania gone wild line even in Kenny’s Powers eyes.

Big Bang Theory, Do It All Dad Does Jokes is no Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman regardless of it being gay about celebrating my Do It All Dad Tree Trunk that claims to blow crystal-clear streams of beautiful mind spewing hilarity, come rain or shine. Sinatra lives. Challah, thank you very much.

The universe didn’t take a collective breath after you post on your WordPress blog how Guaranteed Greatness, would be your last comedy you’d give to the deprived masses away for free.

Force feeding schtick on your resume is more off putting than laughing at your own jokes in person or texting one to an employer with an emoji clown horn that follows.

You can’t win over HR by conserving your best work in the service of making MAGA country laugh over us.

So, I’ll rebrand myself as a scene stealing supporting player and aim to win the 6th Man of Year Award like Anthony Mason on the Knicks before you’re good enough to be deemed trade worthy, only to be voted by your news fans and old as a 1st all-time star the following year, which beats wasting away in some dumpy ad agency in Union, New Jersey away from you kid.

Son says, “Does that mean you’re not leaving me for New Jersey?”

I say, “Not unless I’m calling my next comedy record, “Do It All Dad Does Martha Dump Truck. Can I get holla for some Challah?”

Son says, “Thank you very much.”

Michael Kornbluth

Little Hitler Noser

Florida and Antisemitism are so hot right now. Why else would my wife’s friend husband feel comfortable enough to ask me if I ever read Mein Kampf over our arranged, lunch date this past Saturday on my people’s ordained day of rest no less? Plus, did you know Mein Kampf has 200 plus 4-star reviews on Amazon? But ban any book critical of the COVID 19 vaccine or radical Islam despite Mein Kampf being 720 pages of hate speech in a row. 

Have I read Mein Kampf? No, I don’t identify with the Psychotherapist in Dexter who tries to understand psychotic pricks better after my brother tried to kill my surging ego senior year in high school when he described my ambition to write a screenplay called Sloppy Second Son as “Too Ambitious”, after our mom instructed him to do so.

 

But you read Mein Kampf because you were curious. Were you curious about why Germany hasn’t produced more spit ball pitchers than the Dominican Republic? Or were you curious about why Jackie Joyner- Kersee wasn’t hired as the on-screen consultant trainer on Run Lola Run.

 

You were curious. Curious about what, whether Hitler birthed the idea of killing off gays with Aids, whenever his old school herpes sores flared up his desire to annihilate?  

 

Did you buy Mein Kampf with a Barnes and Noble gift card in honor of the Jewish people because we jerkoff to the Penny Saver on any given Sunday?

 

Did you invite Price Harry over for a pajama reading party before he came out as scruffy, woke Archie?

 

Hitler wanted to abolish all wealth from Jews who made Aryans feel like fake news Beautiful Minds in comparison. Jews got Marc Chagal, Anne Frank, Houdini, Chaplin, Einstein, Chopin and the Gershwin Brothers soon after. Who’s on your team Hitler, German bank tellers small enough to squeeze into Volkswagen’s?  Brahms, Beethoven and Bach, were all German gentiles, congratulations. None of them today would be offered six figures to play Clive Davis’s son’s Bar Mitzvah like Lenny Kravitz or Diamond David Lee Roth would. That’s how you know their classical music is overrated love.

 

Were you curious why Mein Kampf didn’t receive more 5-star reviews on Amazon by book of the month reviewers on 4 Chan?

I know Jews are ideologically inferior for thinking Germans are bigger dicks than defenders of BLM terrorists on TNT.

 

Were you curious about why Jordan Peterson is considered an authority on personality when he doesn’t have one?

Did I ever read Mein Kamph? Did Henry Ford’s International Jew demand a killer sequel in your book?

 

Were you curious about why Hitler didn’t lose any sleep from handing out free toasters to SS Officers for hitting their weekly kill count quotas? Maybe, it was because he was a homicidal maniac perpetually cranked up on crystal meth for starters Little Hitler Noser.

I know. Hatred of Jews in Germany started with a Jewish Bible Salesman who called the New Testament, The Bible Part 2, The Hearsay Years.

Were you curious about what kid books Hitler’s mom read to little Hitler? It’s too bad Curious George wasn’t invented by a married Jewish couple fleeing Nazi Germany in a self-made bike that wasn’t an electric one that hits get away rape speed when driving through no-go zone areas in Germany these days. Grooming rape gang AI alerts rule.

 

Were you curious about why Hitler is considered an overrated monster compared to Radical Islam which turned out to be the main driving force behind Europe becoming a Jew Free Europe today? Tommy Robinson lives, Challah, Thank you very much.  

But seriously, what can you learn from Mein Kampf that you didn’t know already?

 

Hitler described Jews as calculating, cold-hearted and opportunistic liars. What do Mr. Groper’s handlers in the White House have to do with it?

 

Hitler viewed Jews as a threat to German identity as if the milkman in the Fiddler was itching to diversify his income by taking up Gnome making, knowing Gnomes look like Santa’s cut off Trust Fund Babies, living off resin hits, mints and social security.

 

Hitler viewed Jews as a threat to Nationalism. But didn’t Hitler launch the Nationalist Socialist Party to avoid paying war reparations in his effort to make penny pinching great again?

 

It’s hard to respect Hitler’s power of originality as an artist because the swastika is a culturally appropriated, photo shopped Hindu symbol that looks like 2 stick figures doing a 69 on a seesaw on crystal meth.

 

An Aryan is any person with blond hair and blues eyes despite Paul Newman’s more natural style of acting winning him more acting awards than Robert Redford ever received before he opened Sundance to shower less wooden actors instead.

 

Hitler’s mom worked as a housemaid for a wealthy Jewish industrialist engineer, who invented the Mercedes Emblem, only later to be used on Hitler’s drive by car of choice.

 

 

Germany is the source of all important technology, despite IBM Wasps being responsible for developing technology that made it easier for SS officers to identify European Jewry slipped off to slaughter. Or as Watson Computer would say, “No Shirt Sherlock.”

 

Germany is the source of all important culture. Tarantino would disagree despite my in-laws admitting to not caring for the movie Inglorious Bastards. Then again, they booked stadium seating to see Apocalypto on Fandango 6 million months in advance.

 

Germany is the source of all important art.  Because Nazis tweaked on crystal meth were known for their expressionistic range, which ranged from deadly serious to flickering rage if the speed started to wear off after finally running out.

 

Inferior races including Slavic peoples like those damn Polish Jews were so dumb, they tried to sell rags to a German seamstress during her time of the month.

 

Hitler’s father sent him to vocational school because he thought Hitler showed less promise for drawing nudes than Stevie Wonde’s seeing eye dog, used for closer beer goggles inspection during Octoberfest. Stevie Wonder’s Seeing Eye Dog offers a second opinion, “I know you can feel her face Stevie, but I can smell her snatch, Woof, Woof.”

 

 

Hitler was a gifted, full of shit orator like Obama in Chaplin face.

 

And Obama’s more likely to have read Mein Kampf over Trump. Obama wished he was that organized. Getting to exterminate any critic who dared to criticize his master plan to nuke gift Iran as he slithered out the White House door would’ve been a gas.

 

Hitler had a talent for drawing on ancient old blood libel like the Jews being responsible for controlling all the banks in Deutschland and in the North Pole to.

 

Hitler had no problem connecting dots and drawing connections between the Jews heckling the Romans into crucifying Jesus Christ to death because they were 6 degrees separated from the ancestry of Don Rickles.

 

Hitler wasn’t fond of the commie Jew bastards in particular, responsible for promoting equality among all races, despite Jessee Owens not running Hitler’s master race theory into the ground during the Olympics in Berlin just yet.

 

Hitler resented any school of political thought that didn’t recognize German’s innate superiority at creating golden shower symphonies of sound on your SS shower cap.

 

Mein Kampf Cliff Notes.

Chosen perfectionists, my ass.

Eat my Bavarian butt mustard, you schmaltzy bitch.  

 

My struggle is refraining from calling someone a Kraut Breath Noser when they come out as Nazi apologists who describe Nazi’s as “proud people.” Proud of what, just following orders like any good Nazi boy would? George Soros lives, Challah. Thank you very much.

 

My struggle is refraining from shitting in somebody’s mouth after someone tells me they read Mein Kampf to understand his history of hate better. He’s another blah breath Kraut who took himself too seriously like the rest. The only difference is that Germans were dumb enough to believe that exterminating all the Jews would help them maintain a near monopoly on the motion picture business, especially after the advent of technicolor, which made golden shower stag films lose their dramatic dark edge.

 

The Jewish problem according to Hitler was the unforgivable crime of charging interest. Despite the Germans line of credit for possessing a better head for numbers or engineering when Albert Einstein helped the US develop the Atom bomb before those Kraut breaths nosers did.

 

According to Hitler, the Jewish problem was expecting immediate recognized service at all German restaurants, especially at the shabbier Jewish Delis, who offered less sex appeal than Ethel the Waitress’s armpit stains after working back to double shifts on Purim.  

 

But the Germans were prideful people. Why, they killed off all the future Albert Einstein’s that could’ve been talked into making an atom bomb of their own?

 

Hitler could’ve made an offer a Jewish immigrant scientist couldn’t refuse like when he told George Soros. A gun to head or free Cold Play tickets for life? I’ll even let Chris Martin play your son’s Bar Mitzvah if you round up 200 more Jews by sundown, deal?  Potato skins or schnitzel the size of Bridget Neilson’s flattened tits after Paulie passes out on her from drinking too much Stolie in her trailer to get in character again.

 

It’s weird to hear somebody admit they read Mein Kampf, when you know they’re more into audiobooks. So, you read Mein Kampf to understand why Hitler hated Jews so much? Wouldn’t the Mein Kampf cliff notes have been sufficient?

 

You read Mein Kamph. But when I offered you a copy of my book The Great American Jew Novel, you said, “I only listen to Audiobooks recommended by the Joe Rogan Podcast like Hillary Hammer Cankles latest and greatest manifesto, “Eat, Drink, Wheeze” or was it Bernie Sander’s one called, “Karl Marx Is Overrated”, or was it the one by Pearl Necklace Harris, “Kick the Camel Toe.” Challah. Thank you very much.

 

Was Mein Kampf on Audible barely audible like Natasha Lyonne cranked up on Crystal Meth to keep up with her motor mouth mind on Russian Doll?

 

They say Hitler would cum in his own pants from the sound of his own voice. So, did Hedi Klum narrating his book on Audible fail to give you the same amount of sustained stiffage on your behalf? Was Hedi Klum not a believable narrator knowing her clipped, Resiling dry, cold as Eichmann monotone was never spit enough heavy for your preferred spaz attacks tastes?

 

You wanted to learn about why Hitler wanted to create a racially pure German state? Despite uncircumcised German men looking like albino white Ant Eaters between their legs, got it. 

 

You wanted to learn why none of your German ancestors were famous architects?  Or else why would you be forced to live in another drab, ranch house in wigger breath, Long Island hack country like the rest.

 

Did you really need to read Mein Kamph to learn how intermingling your blood line with Jewish ones would only result in you being stingier at giving credit when it’s deserved?  

 

Now you better understand the need for Nazi’s to create more living space because German Halls weren’t spacious enough?

 

 

You feel bad about the Weimer Republic giving away the farm after they lost World War 1, which they started, despite possessing 0.0 negotiating leverage? Losers don’t get to dictate shit Kraut Breath Noser. Challah, thank you very much. 

 

You really think I want to mingle with a wannabe hobbit hipster like yourself on my one ordained day of rest a week? I’d rather watch Concentration Camp paint dry on the last tour of Auschwitz before the peak season during Holocaust Remembrance Month.

The French invented the 69 and Germans invented the Golden Shower caps. But Third Reich officers in those golden shower SS caps looked like interchangeable rock star limo drivers for the Scorpions after the Berlin Wall went down faster than Obama did in a Chicago bathhouse during Arafat Appreciation Month. Lenny Bruce and Joan Rivers had a baby, Challah! Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth