Off the List

How my painter painted me as gay

I hired a painter to paint my apartment. My manhood was under siege right after he saw the paint I chose when he said: “So you chose the purple. Was that not manly enough for you Dominick I ain’t no fag Scholanti.”  

He said so you chose purple like I chose to be gay instead of taking my life. “So you chose the purple. You might as well have painted a bull’s eye on your asshole. I respond with: “But it’s not your normal purple it, its purple haze. Your still abnormal and might as well have had me paint purple veined cocks on the wall as far as I’m concerned.

The End

By

Josh Kornbluth

Why should we respect Joe Paterno now?

Why is everyone so afraid to say it? Joe Pateno was a creep of the highest order and main protector of one monster mugged pedophile. He is the all time winning coach in college football yet he’s also the biggest loser in the humanity and empathy department. When you’re deemed bigger and powerful than the school itself and do nothing to usurp evil for the greater good of innocent children then you’re a spineless snake that isn’t good enough for pet food in Slash’s snake pit.

What’s so legendary about a coach that didn’t blow the whistle on a pedophile that raped school boys on Penn state grounds? What’s so legendary about a coach that always looks like he never showered? That’s why Sandusky practically got away with murder in the showers because he knew that he’d never find Paterno in there.  If Paterno was such a legendary coach he’d know when to play a prevent defense when his integrity and legacy was on the line? If Joe Paterno was such a legendary coach that why couldn’t he read the through the Pedophile Defense, “Just soaping them down Joe, nothing to see here but sparkling scrotums.” If Joe Paterno was such a legendary coach then why couldn’t he take down the tackle dummy coach that ripped underprivileged children apart by the seams? Even the Jackson Family thinks that Paterno should’ve called a play for pass interference. They say Joe was a real fan of the Greek classics. I guess his defense was: The Greeks did it to young boys, so can Sandusky as long I beat Bear Bryant in all time wins.

Why should we respect Paterno now, knowing that he clung on to Sandusky like his decrepit windbreaker even though he was accused of molesting an entire pee wee league? I’m so tired of hearing how Paterno was a molder of men. Let’s call him a great sculptor of scruples while we’re at it, NOT. If he was such an honorable man that instilled such stand-up character then why didn’t he stand up to Sandusky and boot him out of the Penn state family once there was an eye witness account of him wrestling with boys in the shower like it was OZ for pedophiles.  Paterno did nothing to throw Sandusky into the dog pound or put him under. Instead, he gave him a longer leash than Michael Jackson’s jailed doctor. And for all the talk of him creating such classy men from Penn State, not one has rebuked their allegiance to Joe papa don’t preach to me, about protecting pedophiles Paterno.

I just don’t get why the media insists on portraying this sack of moral-less bones as an innocent by-stander like he was some hairy lipped Italian grandma that got flashed in the middle of Times Square but was too freaked out to point the pointy headed perpetrator.

Paterno was a coward, a fraud and despicable figure for any university even by divinity school standards in Boston.  Screw Joe Paterno, screw Penn State and screw anyone that insists on calling him a legend after he dropped the ball during the most crucial stand of his life. Legend, butter fingers is more like it.

Written By,

Josh Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

My very last meal

Picking a last meal is hard knowing that it’s your last chance to pick
a winner.  For my last meal, I just pray for enough confidence in my
own ideas so I don’t rely on message boards like Chowhound.com for any
last minute suggestions. “Any suggestions for my last meal on earth,
but please, don’t say In and Out because I’ll just think about my
dreams that never materialized in LA and how this was the New York
Winter that finally killed me.”

For my very last meal, I’d resist the urge to get the white fish salad
bagel sandwich at Russ and Daughters that comes with Horseradish cream
cheese and wasabi infused roe. Nobody wants to burp up white fish and
have that smell be their last dying breath
.
Getting something sweet as a last meal like a Red Velvet Cupcake from
Magnolia Bakery at the original location in the West Village is
tempting. If I’m lucky, I can cause a traffic jam as I lie dead on the
street with cream cheese icing on my chin and cause the Sex and City
Bus Tour to fall behind schedule.

I’d have to consider a porterhouse for two at Peter Lugers to make up
for the time I went to Craft for my anniversary with my vegetarian
wife and had to settle for the Normandy duck instead.

I’d also have to give the Peking duck at Peking Duck in Chinatown
serious consideration, but only if the Chinese waiters agree to roll
up the entire duck in pancakes for me. If not, I’d get duck sauce all
over my hands which would make me a sticky corpse and I wouldn’t want
Andy
Dick to get any last minute ideas.

For my last Italian meal, I’d get the Veal Osso Bucco from Enzo’s.
It’s voluptuous and mature yet I’d think of veal scaloppini after my
first bite knowing that she’s the one baby that I never outgrew.

Getting Fried Chicken at Sidecar for a last meal would be a stupid
move. I’d turn cold before the chicken cooled.

A homemade meatball pizza from Lombardi’s on Spring Street on the
border of SOHO and Little Italy would be sweet. It would be like dying
between the intersection of Italian heaven and tourist hell.

I’d love to get a seafood risotto from Lupa for my last meal just to
show death that I’m not afraid of keeping him waiting. If my waiter
knew that risotto was my last meal, he’d push for a quicker order so I
didn’t die in his section which sucks up all his tips. The waiter
says:  “Sir, the risotto takes forever. It’s like Keith Richards. By
the time it gets nice and cooked, the party is over.”

If I got ribs for my last meal, I’d get the salt and pepper ribs at
Blue Smoke. They don’t have any sauce so I wouldn’t have to clean up
with a tarp. Plus, Blue Smoke is a dressed up joint that leaves a
cleaner, more everlasting high.

How can I get a Lobster Roll at Mary’s Fish Camp and not feel shorted?
It’s a one song lap dance with a no touch policy.

I’d love to get the Pastrami on Rye at Katz for my last meal but that
sandwich always piles on the guilt. It’s the highest level of
gluttony, literally.

Weed brownies could be the best of both worlds. But weed brownies are
also major creepers.  I won’t know when, I’ll be flying or dying.

But if I had to choose a last meal; I’d get a Founder’s Breakfast
Stout which is that Irish, pouragy Guinness meal experience that
everyone talks about except you don’t have fly to Ireland and pretend
that you like Collin Ferrell either.   Founder’s Breakfast Stout is so
good, the idea of sharing it with loved ones hovering around your
death bed, will kill you.

Written By,
Josh Kornbluth

Long time Eli fan, first time caller

INT: WFAN-DAY

(Mike Francesa, Josh Kornbluth)

Mike

We have Josh from Edgemont, NY. 

Josh

Long time Eli fan, first time caller Mike.

Mike

I wonder who this call is going to be about.

Josh

How could you bet against Eli Manning against Aaron Rodger’s?  He’s silenced more sportswriters than the papers that can no longer afford them? What happened to your NY pride? Did you swallow it along with the Mad Dog’s broadcasting career?

Mike

I saw Aaron Rodgers play at a superhuman level all year. I don’t know what happened.

Josh

I tell you what happened. Eli bent Rodgers over and got all the play action he wanted for four whole quarters, that’s what happened.  The baby faced road warrior lead another powerhouse victory that power slammed MR. Perfect into the ground.   How you can bet against Eli? Did you think that his performance against Atlanta was just a peak of bigger things to come like another intercepted text from Brett Favre?

Mike

Aaron Rodgers just had one of the best seasons in NFL history. And they hadn’t lost at Lambeau field all season.

Josh

Eli isn’t intimidated by a bunch of cheese heads. He lives in Hoboken New Jersey which is as cheesy as it gets. Plus, Eli is a member of football royalty. What is Aaron Rodgers a member of besides the NRA and the local elk club? You never bet against Eli in the post season, Mike. He already out-dueled a Greek God when he won his first ring. All Aaron Rodgers had to do was overpower a peg legged, predator in the Super Bowl in order to get what Eli already had. 

Mike

Look, I’ve always said that Eli’s legacy in this town is secure no matter what happened after he beat Brady and the Pats. But Aaron Rodgers only had six interceptions this year.

Josh

You screwed up Mike. Unlike the other deferential douche bags that call this show, I’m not concerned with getting your professional opinion on whether Eli will win it all now, because you’ve lost that privilege for making no effort to pump up our prospects of winning again in Green Bay. As usual, you insist on dragging out that dronish, sobering, admonishing tone with any New Yorker that dared to believe in Eli getting the job done again. Yet according to you the difference between 2008 and now was about as pronounced as the difference between a three and five year Wisconsin Cheddar from Trader’s Joes.

Mike

Eli is an elite quarterback yet Aaron Rodgers had an awful game which the Giants exploited.

Josh

Why are you still so rock hard over Aaron Rodgers? Eli beat the freaking Silver Surfer that get’s ridden by a perfect ten every night.  The only thing Aaron Rogers is linked to our Wisconsin Bratwursts tailgating parties, rotten cheese and paper champions like Stallone before he beat MR. T in Rocky III.  He’s also an inferior commercial spokesperson that doesn’t even get any lines in his commercials which is more than you say for the lines that form on Giselle’s coffee table.

 Mike

Normally, I’d cut you off five rants ago but we don’t seem to have any other callers today.

Josh

They don’t care about your opinion anymore Mike. It has as much creditability as Peyton’s Manning’s chiropractor.  Now if you promise to never undersell Eli again, I’ll let you have your listener’s back even though you treat them like a collection of dumb girls that you make no effort to charm or take seriously.

Mike

I’ve been the voice of New York sports radio for twenty plus years.  The New Yorker called me the man with Brent Musburger’s brain. I even co-hosted a radio show with Bill Parcels for Christ sake. And you are going to trying to intimate me, Josh, from Edgemont, NY?

Josh

I think I already did.  Eli for President, Baba Booey, click.

 

                                                                    The End

 Written By,

 Who else but Josh Kornbluth