Chapter 30 Second City Envy

                                                               Chapter 30

Second City Envy

 

A native New Yorker like Joshua, who only grew up only 30 minutes north of Manhattan in the suburb of Edgemont, NY, should never have been jealous of the Second City in Chicago but he was.  The Second City in his eyes, was a tougher city, given birth to Isiah Thomas, a huge theater town staging David Mamet plays up the wazoo, the Improv training ground for Belushi, Farley, John Candy and the Midwest muse for screenwriter director great John Hughes in addition being the breeding ground for electric blues, slide guitar greats who all inspired Jimi Hendrix to jack his guitar like there’s no tomorrow such as Muddy Waters, Albert King and the Buddy, I made a guitar down south growing up as a share cropper’s son out of fucking, busted porch door wife.  Also, let’s not forget Joshua was a hardcore Knicks fan, so every winter growing up, he was left with no choice but to look up to MJ and Scottie Pippen in enraged awe as they lit up the Garden like the tree at Rockefeller Center every year, despite New York bred thoughts from Jamaica Queens such as Anthony, deltoids strong Mason, manhandling them in post whenever they took the ball to the hoop strong with all his, I can wrestle 20 NYPD cops to the ground, without breaking a sweat while resisting arrest might.

The late great Bernie Mac hailed from sweet home Chicago, who Joshua admired for his hardcore suck up your ego jobs like driving a Wonder Bread Truck throughout the south side of Chicago when he was an aspirational stand up comic, who hadn’t won the Miller High Lite Amateur Comic competition just yet.  In particular, Joshua loved how Bernie Mac didn’t limit his joke slinging to just the mere open mike stage, turning the bus or subway in Chicago into his own performance space the way Dice would launch into his act before movies started playing in Westwood by UCLA, proving the “world is your stage” like Shakespeare said back in the day.  Joshua adopted a similar approach since becoming an unplanned stay at home comedian, using his Do It All Dad Year Podcast, as a platform to perform his topical jokes on how Michelle Obama claims it was racist to flee the South Side of Chicago, acting as if the South Side of Chicago, always the city’s most violent part, was only 1 crepe food truck from Gentrification. Joshua would add, “Gentrification, you know liberal talk for less black people. The other day, I’m driving on the Deegan past the new Yankee Stadium and I point to my daughter, “Look Matilda, the new Yankee stadium, the house that gentrification built.” Joshua would also never shy away from sampling jokes at the local post office, where Joshua picked up his mail, aiming his comedic blasts on the Mayor of New York City, Mayor De-Blasio saying, “Did you know Mayor De-Blasio’s wife used to be a hard Park Slope Lesbo yet were supposed to believe Garlic Breath converted her? Also, the Mayor eats pizza with a fork and knife. So, you can really see Big Bird burying his beak into wife’s slippery snatch with such sloppy abandon. It sounds like a plausible theory to digest.  Now, thanks to Mayor Putz Face, you can be fined 250 thousand dollars for using dehumanizing language on an illegal alien such as, “No speak English.” Whose translating these insults for Juan exactly? Now, an illegal alien in New York City gets a NY license to vote and a hate speech translator to bankrupt Apu at a Bodega in Flushing. And enough with banning ICE. Because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years.  Last, on the anniversary of Amy Winehouse’s death, has Minnesota congressional rep Baby Face Omar referred to the even has something happened to beehive, horn hiding, Benjamin Lover who exploited the great Palestinian song book for all it was worth. Can I a holla for a big time raising the roof, because I’m just getting started and you can only hope to contain him Challah?

Joshua also took Improv acting courses at Second City when he lived in LA, and got to inhale Harrison Ford’s assistant practically whole at a bar dark lit, bar in Korea town before David Chang got to drop f bombs for a living on the Food Network, coming off as super deep, enlightened cool in the process.  Easily, Joshua’s most sexually arousing Karaoke bar performance was at local Karaoke joint down the street in Korea town, was when he performed the song Soul Man by Sam and Dave, getting the random girls in the audience quite sticky steamy in process, to the point where they were gyrating and shaking to his best Wilson Picket Man and a Half “it’s the other half, that knocks woman out. That’s why I’m a man and a half”, impression.  Prior Joshua was used to sticking with his developing Baba O’Reiley rendition, including various jump heavy but still barely leaving the ground windmill guitar strumming kicks. But the Who’s most kick ass, recognizable, teenage wasteland homage song, didn’t rouse any of the ladies at the townie valley bar the Barrell, to get their sexual dance freak on, in attempt to win over his attention before either. In retrospect, Joshua realized he had what they call in show business, “stage presence.” But back then, Joshua was just doing Karaoke to get more comfortable performing in front of strangers to make bombing in front of various open mike audiences throughout Studio City, Santa Monica, West Hollywood and Venice Beach a tad worrisome laced daunting. In short, Joshua was forcing himself to become a less cerebral, worrisome, Jewy, neurotic bitch, really. At the same time, Joshua getting into Karaoke, performing songs, he loved like Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi or Roadhouse Blues by the Doors was a reflection of his inner rock star, in a desperate dash to break on through to other side because like Richard Belzer, known more his poke faced, dry as cotton mouth witticisms, on Law and Order Special Victims Unit, when he said, “All comedians, “Are frustrated rock stars.”

Joshua also attended Lake Forrest College for 2 years on the north shore of Illinois because he just wanted to get out of New York and trying something new, but it really came down to him hooking up with some upper classman during his trip to the college, which made him feel like a bigger baller on the rise.   Joshua had an older, platonic friend, Shannon who a place in downtown, Chicago, and enjoy getting his puff on with his other hippie buds there, yet what he really longed for the city life in bars and clubs such as Walter Payton’s, which closed at 1:30, which sucks out loud for any native New Yorker. For all the talk about how progressive LA is, the last call is even earlier at a hard 1.  Plus, all the girls in Chicago, look like prettiest faces from Indiana, which is fine, but failed to give Joshua sustained stiffage during his time his Midwest either. The energy of Chicago wasn’t on par with his dear Manhattan, not even close. It was impossible to not feel like an outside when Joshua when to college for 2 years in the Midwest, knowing it was the 1st time it developed a heightened awareness, to Jews being a miniscule minority in this country at large while most preferred to keep it that way. And boy good those Midwest girls drink. He used to party with these girls who would haul a case a Bush light on each shoulder before hitting the bottle of Beam in honor of Kid Rock as the clock truck midnight and Joshua was no lightweight, accustomed to closing down bars at 4 in the morning back in Manhattan with his old school high school crew, never running out of breath as they maintained a steady, rat a tat steam of busting balls throughout.  Still, did Joshua love Kayne West? Yes, but did he envy his soulful, cinematic powered, lyricism on par with Notorious Big, not even close.  Did Joshua love Harold Ramis films like Ghost Busters and Ground Hog’s Day? Yes, but he’d watch most Woody Allen films before he learned he kept polaroids of Sun Yee in his top sock drawer, because the Time life photo of her wasn’t enough, in a New York Minute. Did Joshua revere bands from who hailed from Chicago like Smashing Pumpkins.  Pearl Jam? Yes, but he revered bands such Kiss, from Queens and the boogie Bronx even more.  Bernie Mac was great in Joshua’s eyes, but he was no Chris Rock, Eddie, Dice, or Kennan Ivory Wayans for that matter. Overall, Joshua loved his New York heroes more because they exuded superior style, gravitas and larger than life charisma, only the Island of Manhattan engenders the most. The prettiest, sexist, most diverse collection of ladies, populated the streets of SOHO, the West Village and parts of the Lowe East Side in NOHO in his eyes. The only city he ever wanted to live in was Manhattan, not Chicago. Still, Manhattan could feel like a very lonely place at the bottom and Joshua wasn’t a big shot macher just yet. Still, Chicago represented the American heartland, which was important to Joshua, especially knowing that those working artists who strived and thrived in the Second City, compared to their more uppity, elitist New Yorker yenta breaths were tougher than the rest.

 

 

 

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 25 Persian Puss Fever

                                                                   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 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, 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 his 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 at 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.

Chapter 25 Persian Puss Fever

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.

 

 

Chap. 14 Manhattan Is Yesterday’s News

                                                         Chapter 14

Manhattan Is Yesterday’s News

 

Joshua loved being a Jewish New Yorker, yet it was hard to feel like Manhattan was becoming yesterday’s news. Kevin Durant signed with the Brooklyn Nets over the Knicks to become the voice of the millennial mousketeer generation. President Trump changed his permanent residence to Mara-A-Lago in Florida now. Even resistor, not my president baby boomers despised the bird brain mayor in charge now, who’s such a putz, he dropped the groundhog on Groundhog’s Day, killing him on the spot. You’d think all of his 2-hour-workout sessions at the Park Slope Y doing 10-pound curls, would’ve given him enough arm strength to keep hanging on. Sports radio on WFAN sounded like a broken record. Know it long time WFAN host Mike Francesca had an app now, which is like Bill Parcels texting Lawrence Taylor pep talks on the dangers of dating underage girls on WhatsApp Messenger, considering the blitz of omnipresent of around the block social media sacking of his already hard hit legacy, which will ensue. New York City was declared a sanctuary city, Sex and the City actress Cynthia Nixon while running for governor, campaigned on the promise to ban Ice from New York City, because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years. Along the way, Williamsburg, in Brooklyn became the hipper, sexier, more desirable area of New York to inhabit, which pissed off Joshua because Bedford street off the infamous L line, that was now so packed, it required for you to wait at least 4 subway stops, before there was enough room for your to squeeze in, failed to excite him with the big time possibility of big city success, among the sexiest, most cosmopolitan, diverse group of fetching working woman both old and new inspired. Only strutting along Spring Street in SOHO in the spring or down Perry Street in the West Village in the winter, at one with all the mystical, gas lit lampposts outside of the myriad of stately, cozy, yet big pimping Brownstone palace with steps outside to puff a smoke for old time sake is what made the Island of Manhattan, the dreamy place of legend, not some bombed out wasteland lot in fucking Bushwick, nearby Williamsburg, or in bumble fuck Greenpoint, Brooklyn, no man’s land in Ikea country by Red Hook or in stroller mom country in Park Slope where over the hill, never were hip hipsters, go to get neutered, pull out from premature meat sweats and die.  And don’t even get Joshua started on the emergence of Queens being this so called it place to live. In his act, Joshua who lived in Astoria with his fiancé now wife, for a bit, who also spent 2 years growing up in Forrest Hills, would bemoan with real palpable pissed off feeling. “Stop staying Queens is hot. It’s not. Compared to Manhattan and Brooklyn, Queens is the sloppy third Kardashian sister. You know the extra greasy one, who’s easy to pound at 3 in the morning like a Lamb Gyro in Astoria.” Plenty of Joshua’s role models hailed from Queens, Doug Ellen the creator and head writer of Entourage, Dean Snider, leader singer and main song writer of Twisted Sister, even conservative talk radio host Michael Savage, until Joshua started smoking weed again, realizing, what an insufferable, know it all whiner bore he could be, when showing zero cultural awareness bashing Kayne West, depreciating the man to lyrics he read on Wikipedia 2 minutes before the broadcast. Plus, Joshua bought some of his books and felt conned because the writing was boring and never got him jealous once.  Joshua understand Manhattan, was still to expensive for most, but this wasn’t breaking news either. He also liked the Jackie Mason bit where he says every Jew always says, “I could’ve bought real estate in Manhattan”, but didn’t because they either didn’t want it bad enough, didn’t have the money to buy up any depressed, ghost town properties post 911 in Tribeca like Robert Dinero did when he opened up NOBU, and Tribeca Grand Hotel so Ed Burns could be noticed and recognized for a pleasant change of pace. Those same talker Jews Jackie Mason made fun, also could’ve bought lofts in SOHO before John Jr. made rollerblading down those cobblestone streets hip, when he wasn’t carrying his ten speeder to work to get Cindy Crawford to loose all sex appeal, dressing up as George Washington on the cover of George. After Heath Ledger died, Joshua remembers reading he was paying 20 grand a month for his apartment in SOHO but this 15 years after Moby snagged his Play loft in house studio, reflecting a grimier, less overtly nerdy, digital era time, before very Saudi prince and Chinese suicide jump net manufacturer for Apple bought up every piece of real estate, they grab their Johnny Walker blue hording hands on the cusp of Y2K before Gen X’s 1st real financial crash implosion hit.

Back in the day, Joshua would love to bar hop along the Upper East Side with his crew and drink everything from Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, to shots of Jager, Gold Schlager and Screaming Nazi’s, the holy trinity of high octane, medicinal shots on training wheels for crazy, good New Yorkers just getting their 1st taste of the rambunctious, roarish, Rum Shaker blasting, non-strict ID enforcing, Irish bars on the Upper East, including the good old Bear Bar had to offer. One time, Joshua hooked up with striking, beautiful tall southern gal, who claimed to never hooked up with a Jew before. Later, he remained holed in her apartment, during a major snowstorm, that actually warranted a school shutdown, which back then, occurred every other 5 years max. Although, Joshua also learned with this gal, how unromantic it can be taking a carriage ride in Central Park, unless you’re into smelling horse ass, regardless if you’re drinking some random cheap red blend in plastic cups, accompanied by a tall, rosy cheeked, peach lips tasting, southern belle, to distract from the suffocating barnyard funk in the process. When Joshua almost billed 100,00 dollars one month when working for an IT staffing agency in LA, in Westwood by UCLA on Wilshire Blvd, they had banner year, doing more than 90 million in billing, and even had a job posting website on display on Times Square, Techie Gold, and a radio commercial to match with the voice of from Fantasy Island, who was also had a hilarious role in the Naked Gun many years later. As a result, Joshua got his first Christmas bonus, 500 dollars in cash, making him feel like a big shot for change, because he didn’t have to penny pinch for at least 2 days in Manhattan, for their lavish Christmas Bash at the Pierre, which the company paid, for airfare and their hotel at the Marriot Marquis, all expenses paid. Up until then, Joshua had never woken up in Manhattan within his own hotel room, which felt earned somewhat. It was impossible for Joshua to feel nothing but a surge of New York pride, that morning, nothing felt out of reach, his stuttering, unsure, knock kneed putzy self of yesterday was nothing a but far flung, distance memory. Manhattan felt like the main hot center, of the universe. Wanting to live anywhere else was nuts in Joshua’s eyes. It was only years later, when Joshua too the deep dive into writing jokes and walking those streets rehearsing them, adding to them, perfecting them through Hell’s Kitchen by the Broadway Comedy Club, or in Gramercy by the New York Comedy or in the West Village near Comix and the Cellar, breathing in all the heady, sexually charged buzz, pulsating throughout the streets of his cherished concrete jungle, where he used to buy live dead shows off St. Marks Place, did he become hungry for big city success only a native New Yorker from Queens could crave with such obsessive, prideful, got it make it big here, because nothing else matters driven fervor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapt. 8 The Jewish Godmother Recruiter

 

                                                               Chapter 8

                                                  The Jewish Godmother Recruiter 

 

Joshua’s, Beshert, daughter agent wasn’t done selling The Jewy Manhattan Book Club on why her do it all dad would prove to be an MVP addition to their book club in no time. “Look, I understand, all you are you high powered, big city woman, who formed a book club, you don’t have to hear the opinions of know it all blah breaths who still read op-eds in the NY Times, expecting any type of deepness enlargement in the process. Does my Dad suffer from loud man’s disease? Yes, what interesting New Yorker worth spending any quality of time with, isn’t? Does my dad have a temper? I wouldn’t compare to Tony Soprano, considering the fact he grew up the rough section of Scarsdale, NY, Edgemont to be exact. Actually, his parents raised him in Forrest Queens before buying a colonial in the Edgemont, NY school district because now, he’d have a room to cry himself to sleep upstairs, which always makes the moans of despair easier to bear. My dad looks like Hugh Grant on stilts, minus the horse teeth, have I mentioned that yet? He actually gets confused for being English plenty because he dresses, dapper, business casual British, rocking Ted Baker button downs, both short and long sleeves better than duh face Orlando Bloom ever could. Plus, my dad thinks Yiddish but delivers, not just hilarious, but hysterical trains of thought in nothing in perfect annunciated English, minus the nasal, dronage prominent in Paul Reiser and yenta breaths like Jerry Seinfeld or even weird, weak Howard these days for that matter. The summer before I started Kindergarten in North Salem, NY, where we live now, daddy enrolled me in comedy camp at home because summer camp wasn’t an option because Daddy was still so broke, his Hebrew name was under Judicial Review. We made a bunch of commercials together for his creative tech staffing firm, Standup Staffer, Been Talent Hooking Since Y2K and all them are hilarious from start to finish. He made a great director and my all-star performance in F The PC Police, Say Goodbye To Palo Alto and Blond Power were all big hits. I only required 2 takes max, for each, one in case you’re wondering. You’ll love this bit. What’s a mentor Daddy? Someone who points out your flaws to work on to help you become the best version of you.  Does that mean mommy is your mentor? Because she’s always pointing out your flaws? Like, how you’re so selfish, loud and annoying. I got it kid. I don’t need a mini clone of mommy in my life right, thanks.  The Rev Bob Levy, even completed the comedy work we did together, who used to be a head writer for the Howard Stern show, before Howard fired him because he didn’t like the Rev plugging his stand up comedy shows on the air despite him paying him a paltry salary to make Howard come off as punchier, edgier and less blah brained, fake news deep in real life. You throw Hillary softball questions on your show because his ghoulish, tranny conjuring wife, would dump him to the curb, if he stopped getting invited to Jimmy Kimmel’s house for more 2 bite Chicken Parm dinners. The exact compliment from the Rev Bob Levy, always the funniest and most vicious roaster on the Howard Stern Show, outside of Nick Dipaolo, who also sucked my Dad’s Louie spec script, was, “You got it kid. Funny, relaxed.” And Nick Dipaolo, you know smarter, smoother, just as hilarious Dice, who only drops f bombs for occasional emphasis like my Do It All Dad, doesn’t go out his way to stroke funny man Hebrew descendants of Abraham either.”

Ester, the gorgeous, exotic, long black haired, black leather panted fitted, bootylicious recruitment owner of Silicon Alley Staffers, dares to break up Matilda’s killer flow. “So, Matilda, do you need a job? You’d be animal on the phone and even more impressive in face to face meetings with CTO’s in Manhattan, who couldn’t resist your irresistible mix of punchy, Punk Brewster panache and zero bullshit directness, via Tatum O’Neal in the Bad News Bears. Granted, we’d have to work on the taking breaths between your long-winded pitches, to assess whether the other side is still listening or hasn’t been overwhelmed by sheer force of personality overload yet. Matilda replies. “I appreciate the offer Ester but the only talent I represent is my daddy. I have zero interest in selling the billable brain of power of coders for a living, even though I like to code, during computer lab at school because I’m also wired like that. Once, my grandfather on my mom’s side, big referral for my dad when worked for Robert Half in Manhattan, was an ABAP developer who needed subtitles in order be understood. My father would’ve had an easier time penning a Bollywood Musical than making a placement fee on this guy.”  Also, Big Tech firms like Google make it impossible to be a patriotic, loving American these days who support Israel’s right to defend itself against radical Islam’s non stop kidnapping of Jewish Children in UN funded tunnels and nonstop rocket attacks in their backyard, whenever the whim washes over their demented, twisted souls again.  Also, enough with Israeli aggression, if you shoot 700 rockets into Israel’s backyard, don’t expect an edible gift basket in return, with a thank you note written in Farsi.  Alte, the comedy club owner interjects.  “Have you considered doing stand up comedy for a living kid? Your timing is impeccable, and your material is A grade all the way.” Matilda replies. Thanks for the offer, but my killer comedic timing is direct result of spending so much time with stay at home dad for the past 9 years and counting. Plus, he’s always sampling material on strangers at the post office, deli, bookshop, anywhere outside of the house away from Mama really. Dada always says the world is your stage like Shakespeare says, so there’s no reason to limit your gem joke dissemination to Park Slope lesbo coffee shops or at some townie Irish bar among a bunch of burn out, hicks in Northern Westchester either. Did you know the mayor of New York City is married to a woman who used to be hard core Park Slope lesbo? Yet we’re supposed to believe garlic breath converted her? Golda, the woke, libertarian radio host interjects. “Matilda, your voice projects so well. Would you be interested in being my intern this summer? I hate the mayor of NY more than Jim Acosta wannabes at CNN. Does CNN just shove a mike in front of anyone with good hair? Who doesn’t look too Tommy Lee alt-rightish?  Matilda replies. “I plan on getting a sports scholarship and dunking out in school by the 6th grade, so I’ll have to pass because all that time on my bum will take away from basketball camp and my rigorous box jump schedule my dad plans on doing me with this summer, to help conquer his white man’s disease once and for all.”  Freida, the star Soul Cycle Instructor of SOHO Equinox, interjects. “Matilda, you’re core physique is fantastic and I don’t think you’re capable of running out of breath. Would you consider teaching a Soul Cycle Class for our older baby boomer clientele, so they’re not easily intimated by much younger instructors, with already filled out hard bodies? But before you answer I wanted to thank for emailing me your proposal to meet with you on the behalf of your father. In all honesty, prior, we never considered adding another member to our Jewy Manhattan Reading Club, but we don’t get cold emails from 9-year-old requesting a face to face meeting with our club, ever either.” Matilda replies. “Teaching Soul Cycling sounds fun but not if I’m just teaching baby boomers on how to feel better about being out of state, virtual grandparents, who refuse to identify with even the part time occupation of Grandmother, because it infringes upon their spacious lifestyle away from Uni Brow Maddow on MSNBC.  My dad always blames Facebook for making Baby Boomers, the laziest grandparent generation of all time. Lifting a finger is liking a picture.   My dad also just another piece published on the Good Men Project, The Last Self-Loving Jewish New Yorker, securing his good guy non-divisive status but not really. The piece is a letter to God about my dad apologizing for breaking his spiritually elevated, Kosher diet as of late, because mommy, a gentile, pushed the issue and he didn’t want it to become one, ruining their date to see Cheap Trick at the Capital Theatre on Valentines’ Day.  Can I borrow someone’s phone? I’ll read the piece to you right now.  4 phones come flying at Matilda and she manages to catch every single one. Matilda says. Just one is fine, here we go. And don’t worry about my Dad, he got a great spot. He’s with my two younger brothers now at the Lego store by 30 Rock.  He wrote a 30 Rock script that made him a Recommended Writer on TV Writer ages ago, back when he used to live in Brooklyn with mommy, then girlfriend, when Lena Dunham had much skinnier arms and wasn’t so full of herself.

Not To Marry Gentiles (Deuteronomy 7:3-11)

3 unplanned kids later with my gentile wife, it’s a little late for that God, sorry. I never mastered the art of the pump fake. I did marry the mother of my 3 kids under a Chuppah, built by my hippie bud Marshall from Ithaca College. You know Cornell’s mentally challenged, next door neighbor. I even had Jewish naming ceremonies for three of my kids, my last one being for my lucky number 3, Samuel Teddy, Yitzhak Kornbluth. Because I love the story of a hundred-year-old Sarah getting knocked up well past her eggs’ expiration date, like Sarah Silverman 10 years ago. And unlike other, so-called brilliant comedians like Sarah Silverman, I at least outgrew, my truly tasteless jokes phase at sleepaway camp in Kent, CT. Despite me needing the comedic relief, knowing I was the 2nd worst athlete after the Sheik’s son from Great Neck and to had endure the insufferable elitism of the blah breath kid from Dalton on the Upper East Side, who thought reading a book on Jim Morrison at 15 was the height of deep probing thought. Compared to portly, freckle faced Stork, who read op-eds by Peggy Noonan on how Regan wouldn’t be anybody without her writing his aw-shucks, smile inducing witticisms because he was just an over the hill pretty face, yokel from Northern Cal, who looked good on a horse. If stand up great Bill Hicks wasn’t impressed with Regan’s speaking prowess, then Regan must have been a zero-talent dope, with or without Peggy Noonan pushing for him to name our space missile defense system Star Wars over Space Force instead.

I’ll get to the point now God. I broke my Kosher diet streak of 4 months at a gastro pub in Portchester, NY 1 hour before seeing the legendary pop rock band Cheap Trick with my wife for Valentine’s Day and I feel awful about it, sick to my stomach really. I don’t care how scrumptious my wife’s Shrimp and Grits were or the Duck Roll wrapped and fried in paper thin won ton paper, stuffed with the most non-sour pungent, highly delectable shreds of Sauerkraut nestled inside each bite from Gentile heaven.

It all started with my gentile wife, originally hailing from Brisbane Australia, urging me to try one bite of her Shrimp and Grits, knowing full well, I’ve been a proud beneficiary of my spiritually elevated, Kosher diet regulated meals as of late. We wanted to get married in Australia on Mother’s Beach, yet my mom shot down that dream. On the phone she says to me, “Son, Australia is a long flight from New York and your father doesn’t love you that much.:”

But back to my Gentile wife pushing me to take a bite out of her Shrimp and Grits. I wouldn’t say it felt like she was trying to hard sell me on still giving the Passion a shot after all these years, knowing my younger Jewish brother broke his Mel Gibson movie strike and rushed to see Apocalypto opening weekend. Now, I wouldn’t say my wife’s repeated attempts to make me try her succulent forbidden, Gulf Shrimp felt like total overkill. But her big, bulging eyes became more enraged, the more I resisted a bite out of her deveined, broth rich, fleshy, chunky cooked morsel of southern love accentuated Shrimp.

I know you’re the one and only true God, who I worship with all my fighting, loving, funny man heart. Still, the Capital Theatre has been a tremendous source of joy for me, starting with seeing the final Grateful Dead show via simulcast from Soldier Filed there with an old school bud from High School, making me feel like I was at the actual concert in Chicago along with every other over the hill baby boomer, who loves to name drop celebrities they bump into at Dead Shows like the famed Bill Walton, to feel cooler by association. Truth is, Cheap Trick rocks out way harder than the Grateful Dead, they’re twice as melodic on most songs, explaining why they’re called the American Beatles for a reason. Plus, being a big Dead Head set list guy, I searched online for some recent Cheap Trick set lists, giving me the distinct impression they were going to replicate almost the entire set of Cheap Trick at Budokan, which is a legendary live album, that will transform the most hardened Gen X adult today into a true believer of the kick ass restorative powers behind hearing live, rambunctious, soul man blasting rock and roll.

So, while my wife just urged me to try one bite of her shrimp. Implying, it’s Valentine’s Day and we’re out on a date, while my mother was in town to babysit our 3 kids, which is a biannual production, so I should feel morally obligated to relish my Gentile blessed, Jesus approved Shrimp and Grits, more than growing closer to God through sticking with my Kosher diet, knowing I don’t have to do any of the slaughtering or blooding draining of cows myself. Still, all I heard in my stoned, semi paranoid head at the time was, come on, come on, try the Shrimp and Grits already, you uppity, fake news believing Jew. Then, I started to justify why taking a bite wouldn’t be the end of the world, stating, some married couples in Miami Beach go to swinging clubs on Valentine’s Day, so our thing can be my wife force feeding me shrimp and andouille sausage but having me act like I love it. For all the talk of us chosen people being the pushy ones Lord, I don’t feel gentiles get enough credit for being just as guilty of this charge if not worse. And I’ll take the Crusades for 500 Alex.

So knowing my mom was in town to babysit our 3 bundles of sunshine and my wife had gotten us the tickets to see Cheap Trick in the 1st place, I relented and tried her super scrumptious Shrimp and Grits because I feared it becoming an issue. Ruining our time together to see Cheap Trick at the famed Capital Theatre, where Janis Joplin performed her last show, which I wanted to avoid at all costs. This issue being my wife branding me as the obstinate, all knowing, morally exalted, big headed Jew. So I divorced myself from my ego, thinking, one bite of shrimp away from the house wasn’t indicative of me turning my back on you Lord because of my commitment to resume my Kosher diet the following morning, with dreams of duck rolls becoming a glorious remnant reminder, of the thrill offered by being a bad boy non-conformist, living to rock out to Cheap Trick without a worry in the world, living for the killer opener of Hello There and Come, Come On while not sweating the loss of my chosen, funny man father status just yet.

Still, when we got the Capital Theatre on the main floor, to see Cheap Trick blow the roof off the building, I lost my airy, spiritually elevated lift as of late. Granted, the fries, duck roll and vanilla bean porter, followed by an Anchor Steam on tap for old times sake before they assumed the stage didn’t help. But we had a great time together at the show Lord and I grew closer to my wife as a result, despite her nudge, playing a slight role in me veering me away from your Moses transmitted commandments. And deep down I know your main concern for us chosen people marrying Gentiles, is them driving ourselves away from you Lord, because of the odds of raising our children Jewish, falls dramatically in half, especially when our wives refuse to convert to Judaism, because they don’t believe your Jewish putz embedded DNA is the end all to the be all either.

But again, my gentile Australian wife was cool with the Jewish naming ceremonies for all three of four kids, which not every Gentile would. So, I’m not going to freak out over this gentile terror alert moment just yet. Still, my beautiful, super funny, ultra-chill wife from the land down under, also made me potato latkes from scratch for Hanukah with parmesan, which does wonders in addition to making me a Kosher Matzoh ball soup, using a real-life Kosher chicken for the stock, despite her being a veggie loving, practicing pescatarian 99 percent of the year. Thereby, proving my Gentile wife is capable of seeing through loving Kosher eyes. Even Kid Rock will give my wife an Amen on that one. More importantly, the night where I said goodnight to my Kosher diet and hello to intermarriage peer pressure at 43 years old, was more of a direct result of me not respecting your law for the night, versus fearing my wife’s semi- pushy wrath, which I didn’t want to ruin Cheap Trick, 42 years after they caused a tsunami of teenage shriekish joy at Budokan back in the day, which I wanted to experience on my own live in person, without rocking the Hello Kitty purse in the process.

Abandoning my Kosher diet for a night for Cheap Trick was a shame. It still taught me how much I need your love Lord, which requires me to make you the center of my universe, instead of the reverse. I should’ve shown your dietary laws as much love as my love of not wanting my wife to ruin Cheap Trick for me on Valentine’s Day. Surrender Shrimp and Grits, I must because I want you to love me back twice as much for making you feel like the center of my universe instead of Cheap Trick, as much as they rocked out with such divine powered authority.

The Jewy Manhattan Book Club is left enraptured in head spinning awe and incredibly moved in the process after hearing such a fresh, assertive, original, funny Jewish, disruptive, literary voice, that got them off from start to finish and Joshua’s 9-year-old Bashert agent feels incredible sense of calm and intense prideful satisfaction in knowing her reading of her dad’s piece helped seal the deal.

Matilda adds. “But the real reason my dad wants to join The Jewy Manhattan Club is to find a potential Jewish Godmother for my and 2 adorable, hilarious younger brothers and if anyone can appreciate my dad being the last funny man self-loving Jewish New Yorker in this age hysterical, resistor, kiss ass resistance, it’s you fab 4.”

Ester speaks on The Jewy Manhattan Book Club’s behalf.  “We’d be honored to have your dad join The Jewy Manhattan Book Club. But I actually like boozy, highly alcoholic, overpriced cabs from Napa. I’m pretty petite so they go straight to my head, but they also take forever to breath, so I like the anticipatory self-discipline it gives me. We just cracked open a delectable Polly Fume from France. Would you like to take a sip?”

Matilda says. “But it’s not spring break yet.” The entire room cracks up. Alte the comedy club owner replies. That’s hilarious Matilda, Ivanka Trump’s daughter would’ve just said something boring in Mandarin.”

 

 

Do It All Dad Does Manhattan

Jerry Seinfeld just auctioned off one of his vintage Porsches for charity. I hope half those proceeds went to Larry’s kids.

Is it me or does Robert Dinero on the View these days, look like Betsy Ross falling apart at the seams?

If Google doesn’t manipulate search results, then why is harder to find positive mentions of Trump on Google than finding a film blogger on Rotten Tomatoes who called the Irishman underrated?

Facebook has made Baby Boomer the laziest grandparent generation of all time. Lifting a finger is liking a picture on Facebook.

Kendrick Lamer won the Pulitzer Prize because Obama got the Nobel Peace Prize for rebranding ISIS, ISIL, so they’d sound more start up friendly in the NY Times.

Why is Radical Islam so into deflowering virgins? Doesn’t Radical Islam have enough blood on their hands already?

One kid only means your diaphragm is for walls after all.

3 unplanned kids later, I never mastered the art of the pump fake. I’m scared of getting a vasectomy because I don’t want my ball sack to feel like Edward Scissorhands face.

Did you know there is a Planned Parenthood in the middle of NYU? You’d think sticking to anal, fellatio or the morning after pill wasn’t beyond Freshman orientation comprehension yet? So much for NYU raising the requirements since Debra Messing got in.

Planned Parenthood is in the sex ed book business now like the graphic sex book In case You’re Curious for sexually confused hipster spawn reared on Lou Reed Records.

I went to Ithaca college myself, otherwise known as Cornell’s retarded next-door neighbor. But I could spoke strong Tompkins County outdoor and stutter every other 2 seconds because I was in distinguished Roy H. Park School of Communications.

CEO of Disney Bob Iger went to Ithaca. This is Oprah trying to talk him into running for President. You’ll defend your decision to fire Roseanne, despite Valarie Jarret, the main author the nuke gifting Iran deal being Obama’s live in Arabian Horse Whisperer.

I should’ve subbed my whiny, no show Jewish Grandma for a wise Black Grandma at my wedding. Post an ad on Craig’s List, Tyler Perry impersonators are welcome. Must be comfortable performing in front of white audiences only.

How does Farrakhan celebrate Holocaust remembrance Day? Bombard Benjamin Netanyahu Twitter Feed with termite emojis from dawn till night? Hashtag, But Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansen are alright.

This is me preparing my son on how to avoid any anti-Semitic backlash at school before winter break this year. So, when you play dreidel with your non-Jewish classmates, don’t say Gimmel means give me all your money because we control the Federal Reserve and all the banks in the North Pole to.

When my daughter was only 2 and can only string 2 words together. We’d do a routine at the bodega in Astoria. I’d say, Matilda what did Tyson Chandler give the Knicks. And she’d say, boopkus, Dada, boopkus.

God didn’t give me 3 unplanned kids to have a panic over it, although my daughter gave me fits of despair this question barely out of the womb. So, Dada, if God created the universe, who created God. Um, God went back in time in a Time Machine made my Elon Musk. Real Convincing Dad. Thanks for making me an Atheist at 4.

I freaked out during a Christmas party when my daughter was only 3 because my wife’s friend got my daughter a pair of fairy wings. I told her friend, “Get the fairy wings off my daughter now. Knowing mama’s side trance background, she looks like an overdose at the Limelight waiting to happen.

Side note, fuck China. Chinese made Fentanyl has killed more crackers in this country than Lena Dunham kicking with Taylor Swift on Instagram.

The first concert I took my daughter to see was a Grateful Dead days after her 2nd birthday. Daughter points at a dinged-up hippie sucking down a nitrous balloon and says birthday. I say, no Matilda, burn out day.

This is Ziggy Marley being interviewed by High Times Magazine. Your dad Bob at 5 kids. I thought ganja drained your life blaster dry. Fake news man.

Took my daughter to see Billy Joel at MSG for her 5th birthday. Mom freaks out, saying make sure my granddaughter wears earplugs. I tell her, relax mom. I’m taking her to see Metallica. Plus, Billy Joel music still sounds like rocking lullaby music for eighties republicans.

Her younger brother suffers motor mouth disease like her dad. At Pre-K they got concerned about his ability to make friends because he’s hard to understand. I told my son. Like Dale Carnegie says in How to Win Friends and Influence people. Fake an interest in other people as long as humanly possible.

I also told him he’s not leaving the house for Junior high unless his backpack is stuffed with pre-poundage consent forms.

How do you solve sexual harassment at work today? Only hire a remove work force. And start every Skype meeting with. Raise your hands up I where I can see them.

My youngest boy Samuel, Chosen Curls was bound to woo. Some random Italian grandma will stop him at Stop and Shop and says. When you get older, you’ll have 3 girlfriends to juggle. I say. No offense lady, but James Woods had this kid’s face. Your estimates wouldn’t be so conservative.

Despite my mom converting, my dad never allowed my mom a Christmas Tree, insisting, son Jews don’t buy Christmas Trees, unless they convert into a tree house and flip it for a profit.

My mom is originally from Kentucky, which is more like Midwest south. Where finger food is anything that tastes like your cousin’s panties. Growing my mom says, son Kentucky is known for 2 things, horses and pretty woman. And I respond with, mom keep your sundress on before you tell me Dad is hung like Seabiscuit.

Has Minnesota rep, Baby Face Omar, acknowledged the anniversary of Amy Winehouse’s death as something happened? To a horn hiding, Benjamin hording, oppressive imperialist, who exploited the great, Palestinian Song Book for all it was worth.

And enough with Israeli aggression. If you fire 700 rockets into Israel’s backyard Hamas. Don’t expect an edible gift basket in return with a thank you note written in Farsi.

If I see Transgender father’s day trend on Twitter one more time, I’m breaking my chic filet strike for good. Either you’re an involved father or you’re not Nipple Tits. Also, feeling shafted shouldn’t be a new experience in your life either.

This if Jefferey Tambour in his trailer after learning one of his Trans Co-star pissed on his toilet seat. Real lady like, now get out of my trailer. You butchy bitch, hey now.

Did you know the majority of Americans think Obama was a better President than Lincoln yet I don’t see George Washington giving Iran 150 billion dollars for overseas manufacturing jobs for Build a Bear, to make their economy less reliant on the sale of hair removal products for the Kardashians.

Kim Kardashian is studying to become a Criminal Justice Lawyer. Criminal Justice Lawyers are so hot right now.

Bruce Jenner wasn’t asexual married to Kris Jenner. But I bet Bruce back then stayed harder longer after he got his wife Kris cut her hair, looking more like a dolled-up Ralph Macchio.

Kris Jenner hates all the attention Caitlyn Jenner steals away from her because of her tits sagging popularity.

Memo to displaced hipster who can’t afford to live in Manhattan or Brooklyn anymore. Stop, saying Queens is hot, it’s not. Compared to Manhattan and Brooklyn, Queens is the sloppy 3rd Kardashian sister. The extra greasy one, who’s easy to pound at 3 in the morning like a lamb gyro in Astoria.

Ban ICE, makes sense don’t you think New York? Because homeland security was so Weapons of Mass Destruction years.

Did you know in New York City you can be fined 250 thousand dollars for using dehumanizing language on an illegal alien such as, No speak English.” Whose translating these insults for Juan exactly? Now, in New York City, an illegal alien can get a driver license to vote and a hate speech translator to bankrupt Apu, in a bodega in Flushing.

I wish LaVar Ball was sub coach dad growing up because he’s made sure I lost my virginity before my younger brother did. So, I’d feel like a bigger baller inside and stop prancing down the court on my tippy toes, looking like I was in high heels instead of high tops, yelling from the sideline. “We’re trying to sell Baller Wear son, not Jimmy Choo’s.”

LaVar Ball as my sub coach dad would throw me house parties for games of spin the bottle at home and only invite stuck Jenny from the Block. He yells in Stuck Up Jenny’s ear. The Yoo-hoo Bottle doesn’t spin itself bitch.

Russell Simmons off the record with Oprah. Oprah read my lisp. I didn’t rape any of those vengeful, over the hill hoes.

Who told Samuel Jackson it was cool to start dressing like Spike Lee’s Grandma? Who identifies as a jazz critic descendant of Sony Rollins in Tyler Perry’s new film, the Uppity Cunt.

Have they taken down the Rocky statue yet? Because it promotes white supremacy.

Bill Burr says, he doesn’t see anybody beating Trump in 2020. That’s like saying, Louie will never have to wait to do an impromptu set at the Comedy Cellar, wearing nothing but sunglasses, a trench coat and Sarah Silverman’s hoody to wipe up with.

Did you know Woody Allen used to stuff his top sock drawer with naked polaroids of his nine-year adopted daughter Soon Yi. The only thing missing was a picture of her on Time Life Magazine.

I did love Woody Allen’s last film, about some a super old dude who bangs some underage girl, it was a prequel, called, Crimes and Misdemeanors the early years.

If Ronan Farrow is really Frank Sinatra’s son, not Woody Allen’s. Then, why hasn’t paid off a goon to knock Woody Allen on his ass yet. But hanging out with Jefferey Epstein is good luck though. Granted, Woody Allen isn’t known for advertising pedo installation artwork like the Podesta brothers, which is enough to make Marilyn Manson blush

Our state of the union is like Stephen Colbert’s handle on funny these days, shaky. Too bad Bill O’Reily is no longer important enough to impersonate. At least, Bill O’ Reilly gave Colbert, gravitas.

Jimmy Fallon’s writers hate because when he tried to rub his hair off on the Tonight Show, a real skinhead didn’t emerge.

Make Nazi Germany great again wasn’t his campaign slogan Michael Rappaport. Too bad, Louie can’t write you another annoying NY asshole to play in such convincing fashion.

Did you know Lena Dunham was Hillary Hammer Time Cankles, social media manager? Only Lena Dunham could Huma Licker Breath, less likable and relatable in one blubbery swoop.

In related news, Kevin Durant chose to sign with the Brooklyn net because he wanted to be the voice of the millennial musketeer generation.

Hillary giving a speech on cybersecurity is like Kevin Durant getting paid for a speech on how to combat online bullying.

Hillary claims Trump is obsessed with her because he’s an illegitimate president. I thought Hillary Hammer Time Cankles lost at becoming President twice, because she’s an unhuggable cunt, alcoholic deplorable, who failed to sell 64 million branded racists, on why baby boomer mom knows best, my bad.

Harvey Weinstein is now an officially convicted rapist. His wife left him before the jury verdict to focus on her lifetime battle with amnesia.

Still, Ashley Judd isn’t a real victim of rape. Ooh, she balked at watching Harvey shower himself down in his 5-star suite at the 4 Seasons. Granted, Ashley Judd being from Kentucky, has plenty of experience judging fat pigs at the country fair.

I also don’t believe Kristaps Porzingis was guilty of trying the neighbor in his apartment complex, the day her tore his ACL. First, going strong to hole isn’t KP’s forte. Last, Harvey Weinstein isn’t trying to rape Wonder woman, played by Gal Gadot on only one good leg.

Imagine Thanksgiving at the Obama’s this year. Malia, you barely touched your Tofurky. Daddy, all my woke friends at school don’t understand why you let me intern for Harvey Weinstein. Obama replies. Michelle was your chaperon on set. And that fat Jew couldn’t pin down Michelle if he tried. Can I get holla for more than fair Obama blast for ages Challah?

Also, if Michelle Obama were run for President to become the closer to finish off Bernie Sanders. What would her campaign slogan be? Obama’s 5 O Clock Shadow part 2. Joan lives.

They say, woman’s soccer gold medalist, Megan Rapinoe might even run for President. What would her campaign slogan be? Obama bring back the L Word to Netflix. You’re only hope.

In related news, the Ellen show is looking for Digital Marketing Manager according to LinkedIn. What are the must have skills for the role? Besides, being pro Bush.

Did you know Mayor Bill DeBlasio’s wife was a full-blown Park Slope lesbo when they met? But we’re supposed to believe Garlic Breath converted her? Big Bird eats pizza with a fork and knife. So, do you really see putz face burying his beak into her bean pie with such sloppy abandon? It sounds like a plausible theory to digest.

This is me discussing Aids with my 9-year-old daughter prematurely. President Trump used his profits from the Wollman Rink in Central Park for Aids gay groups. Daughter asks. What’s Aids Daddy? I say. A reason to become a lesbian. You can take a licking and keep on ticking.

What I love about President Trump besides making ball busting great again, is his relentless optimism and over the top salesmanship. If President Trump, still your president got diagnosed with HIV today. He’d tweet the next morning. Do I have HIV? Yes, but my t-cell count numbers have never been stronger.

Resist this.

Thank you.

Michael Kornbluth

Sweating The Triggered Baby Boomers

Mark Zuckerberg, Zit Face Zuck, Good Will Hoodie, Hillary Hammer Time Cankles reason for losing to Trump in addition to be an unhuggable cunt because Facebook ads jumped out laptops across the country, in the form of holograms of Drago from Rocky 4, demanding, “Vote Trump or I’ll break you.”   Yeah, so that Mark Zuckerberg, who founded a company to list a girl’s availability status because he’s never made a cold call in his entire life. Yeah, that Mark Zuckerberg, who tried to screw the alpha dog rowing twins out of their fair share, gets his armpits blow dried before speeches, on conservative censorship. You know the ones where Good Will Hoodie, yuck pits, pretends to act like he has no knowledge of Facebook deliberately deplatforming anyone who dares to get Sasha Baron’s Cohen’s panties in a bunch and post a Toby Keith Playlist or blog detailing any actual Trump accomplishments that didn’t involve renaming ISIS, ISIS so they’d sound more start up friendly in the NY Times.  Because he’s sweating more African Americans walking away from the Democratic party as a result of Diamond and Silk’s incessant, finger waiving bullshit. Plus, the only ones who still use Facebook with any regularity are resistor baby boomers and you must ban any pro Trump supporters on their site because they’ve become such easily triggered elitist, out of touch, douche bags with real God like complexes because baby boomer arrogance never dies.

 

Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

Chinese Democracy Knows Best Trump

Roger Waters thinks Trump is a mass murder. Yeah, you’re confusing him for the failed artist speed freak, self-hating fruitcake, fake news dictator Adam Schiff.

Adam Schiff would’ve outed his non circumcised brother to the Nazi’s for a line of chalky meth, mixed with Arm and Hammer baking soda.

Trump is a mass murder Roger Waters? Yeah, once again, make Nazi Germany great again, wasn’t his campaign slogan dude. You made a career about singing about your overbearing mommy and dad who died fighting real life Nazi’s. Trump got some starter money from his dad and turned into 3 billion becoming the master troll of the universe.

You’ve got 500 million large and your own gulf stream to take selfies with Linda Sarsour, so let’s gets all it a wash mate, before you get suicidal and dare to make the final cut.

Oh yeah, Roger Water from Pink Floyd also said Trump supporters have turned America into hell. Again, stop confusing Trump supporters to terrorist-controlled Palestine, who use kids as human shields next time they launch 700 rockets into Israel’s backyard, expecting nothing less but an edible gift basket in return, with a thank you note written in Farsi.

Trump supporters have turned America into hell. But Trump supporters don’t support sanctuary cities, encouraged lawlessness, banning bail and ICE because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years.

Trump supporters have turned America into hell. Yeah, for your girlfriend Linda Sarsour who endorses treacherous, Americans like Chelsea Manning’s run for senate because she endorses Sharia Law and is pro-genital mutilation.

Trump supporters have turned America into hell. I thought it was actually news media fault for pushing fake news narratives like ANTIFA are just misunderstood, Punisher vigilante wannbes under their social justice warrior hoodies.

Trump supporters have turned America into hell. Again, wasn’t the news media who pushed a Russian golden shower tale with less legs than Lieutenant Dan between Trump and a couple of Russian hookers, knowing he’s a notorious germaphobe. Plus, if the Don wanted a couple of hookers to pee on each other, he could hire a couple of Ivanka look alike in his hotel in DC anytime he likes.

Axel Rose posted a picture of a hat on his Twitter feed that says, Make the White House Great Again. Too bad Axel Rose no longer has no name music writer at Circus magazine to taunt because Kurt Cobain killed off Circus Magazine from a drab, dronish video with cheerleaders cheering the death of another Spaghetti Incident.

Neil Young declares Trump a disgrace to his country, because he had to generate the most social media buzz out of becoming a citizen yesterday. A disgrace to our country Neil is still sucking off the fake news, good hued legacy of Obama knowing he let more Chinese made fentanyl get smuggled across our southern border, to kill more crackers than Lena Dunham kicking with Taylor Swift on Instagram. Oh yeah, that’s right, Trump inherited Obama’s 2.9 GDP fueled economy. Neil, I used to love you all winter long, your banshee rocker wail and grungy, operatic, blistering, guitar solos, are the stuff of legend, yet giving Obama credit for stock market highs is like giving Nino Brown credit for getting Pookie in New Jack City, off crack and welfare. Still, I’m glad that you found love with Daryl Hannah and dumped your wife and mother of your children of 35 years, who inspired Harvest Moon because you’re in the middle of a hardcore never banged a mermaid crisis.

Michael Kornbluth