Tag: family

Surviving Sensitivity 

by doitalldadyear, posted in Parenting, poetry, writing

The first time I cooled on my son ever. 

Otherwise known as the Boy Who Raised Himself. 

I try to pick him up from a playdate. 

He’s outside with his two other long-haired buds looking a like a mini-Poison cover band in the making.

He says. 

Can you come back later? 

Then, his friend gets mouthy with me after I tell him “no.” 

Friend says. 

He doesn’t want to leave yet. 

Didn’t you hear him the 1st time? 

You’d think I was crashing John Podesta’s pool party prematurely. 

Then, all his friends formed a unified front and barked. 

Pick up time isn’t for another hour. 

And I’m feeling like a resurgent herpes sore on the spot. 

A bunch of 9-year-old punks now wield as much power as a VP Of Technology for Tesla, telling a Headhunter, “We’re all set. HR does your job better. Shouldn’t Mommy be on a pickup detail instead of you? Put us on the don’t disturb list. We work for Tesla. The government has our back no matter what. Our charging stations are the future. Who cares if the New World Order is actually collapsing national currencies for the sake of jamming more Jalopy-looking Teslas down your throat? 

Who likes impressions? You’re going to hear one anyway. Imagine Ziggy Marley getting interviewed by High Times Magazine. “Ziggy, how did your dad have seven kids? Doesn’t Ganja drain your life blaster dry and make you impotent like Agent Orange or the COVID vaccine, according to Nicky Minaj’s cousin? Ziggy says, “Fake News, Man.” 

It’s hard to feel your own man when you’re a stay-at-home shemale comedian dad. Especially when your wife’s smartphone sends her an alert after you make another questionable purchase. My wife called me from work the next day, “Hey, babe, so how was Bride Of Chucky?” 

And it’s near impossible to get your wife into a kinky mood when you’re choking her too hard financially. So, babe, I’m not drunk, stoned, or on Adderall, so it won’t take me forever to juice for joy all over Blondie after giving me some lockjaw love. Who doesn’t love endless dick? And my wife says, “Get us out of endless debt 1st, and we will talk.” 

The best thing about my daughter wearing my wife’s clothes now is realizing my interest in obscenely wealthy older women with CT listener plates hasn’t subsided. 

What has Mr. Bubble taught me about falling out of love? 

It’s taught me that people fall out of love easily until your presented with the next best thing. 

For example, my youngest son, Chosen Curls Was Bound To Woo, used only to have eyes for Mr. Bubbles. He’d blow fart bubbles at the sight of Mr. Bubbles winking at him in the Bubble. Then, one day, we ran out of Mr. Bubbles. So, I introduced my son to Dr. Teals, Mandarin Mist, and Mr. Bubbles became a distant memory. It’s as if Mr. Bubbles never was. Now, my son is jamming tangerines up his butt for fun. He orders mimosas for brunch. He peels his mandarins with his teeth to get him into the mood before taking the plunge in a soothing salt bath with Dr. Teals again. 

I hate skinny chefs more than a sunglasses entrepreneur with perfect long hair in San Diego on Triple D without a worry wrinkle in sight. 

I hate skinny chefs more than twenty-year-old Persian kids who Mansion hop in San Diego on YouTube when I can’t even score a fashion copywriter interview in Stamford, CT. 

Why didn’t I pulverize my brother’s girlfriend’s vagina on my 30th birthday when I had the chance? Especially after she was hanging on to my mighty meat mallet for dear life. Am I a liberated pervert, Yes? But denting her pussy would’ve been gross because that would be like getting HPV through my brother. 

Would you like another example of me cooling on my son in the same week? 

After I drop him off for camp, I’m blasting George Thorogood in the car with the windows down. 

Son says. 

I’m no longer your son. 

I say. 

Would blasting Justin Bieber make a difference? 

Is his boy band wrecked face in a malleable position yet? 

If there’s any American-made band with balls that was in 0.0 rush to flash their Just Vaccinated stickers, it was George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers, known for classics such as Gear Jammer, American Made, and Shut the Fuck Up Karen; You Talk Too Much. Bud Light was a pussy beer, to begin with. So, it makes no difference to Georgie. 

I average one call a year with my dad; the last one went, “What’s new?” 

I say, “I got a call from the Creative Arts Agency yesterday. They said I’m eligible for a Wikipedia page.” 

My father says, “You’re not even eligible for a Discover card.” 

I say, “But it only costs 4000 dollars for my own Wikipedia page to confirm everything I do is hate speech in Groping Biden’s eyes.” You can’t buy better credibility than that.  

But I’ll always cherish the memory of my father showing 0.0 interest in pretending to care about my squeamish cell carcinoma diagnosis. He says, “Stop bitching; it’s a child’s play cancer.” My doctor said, “My trauma caused my child’s play cancer. So, I say, “From what doc, flipping my dad the wrong finger? 

Surviving Sensitivity, Challah, thank you very much. 

Michael Kornbluth 

Sexualizing Dream Boards

by doitalldadyear, posted in beauty, poetry, travel

I don’t want to sexualize my daughters Dream Board. But it’s hard to avoid, when you come face to face with the caption, “You can do hard things.” Does my daughter follow Kris Jenner on LinkedIn now too?

So my daughter is lying on my chest for a late night tuckin cuddle, and I’m thinking, “You can do hard things.” What was on Megan Raponie’s Dream Board growing up? Penetration is overrated. That’s what Liz Cheney told Megan Rapinoe at the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance, with a pair of VR Goggles on for Back to Future Pride month.

Do It All Dad desecrates Dream Boards, Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

Do It All Dad Gets Reviewed

by doitalldadyear, posted in books, fiction, writing

I couldn’t have written Waste of Height, Really Short Stories, without the steady support of my WordPress fans. I love you all. You’re the best open mike buds in the universe, thank you very, very much. #FuckBigTechandLinkedInLongTimeAllTheTime

Michael Kornbluth

ARC Review: Waste Of Height by Michael Kornbluth

Decoupling Compliments

by doitalldadyear, posted in books, entertainment, fiction

Words of advice, don’t approach me after a semi-successful set and only compliment me on how ballsy I am. In other words, maybe the funny will catch up to you eventually. But you’ve got balls for wallowing in strained hackery in between. Decoupling Compliments, Challah, thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth