Next, Michelle Wolf Headlines at the Bar Mitzvah of Elliot Grossman

It is a pleasure to have been invited to headline this evening at the Bar Mitzvah of young Elliot Grossman. I’m comedian Michelle Wolf.

Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Grossman for having watched me at the White House Correspondents dinner and deciding that my brand of humor was just perfect for a group of Jews spanning the age bracket from 6 to 97.  I can’t decide if you two are admiringly liberal or just plain nuts.

And there they are the two of them at the head table: the proud parents, Robert and Estelle Grossman! Getting a little paunchy there, aren’t we Robert?  And Estelle, judging by your hair and make-up I take it you’re the one in the family who has the money.  Am I right?

Robert’s secretary Annie Aimsworth is also with us too. Where are you Amy?  Ahh, yes!  Conveniently seated toward the back of the room with your clearly gay co-worker Ralph, pretending he’s your boyfriend. You two look very unconvincing.

Are Robert Grossman and Amy having an affair, you ask. Those two have been under the desk more often than well-chewed gum. But one thing I have to say for Mr. Grossman; he’s the best at delivering fake news since Sandra Huckabee Sanders.

 “I never collude with my wife anymore,” he’s told Amy. Sure. I was walking by their house last night and judging by all the squealing I heard those two were either colluding like Trump and Putin or eating some unbelievably under-cooked roast pig, which I doubt because they’re Kosher.

Then he told her “I love you.” Sure, he loves her!  He loves her like he loves the Philadelphia Eagles: he gets very excited once a week and the rest of the week he spends thinking about who he can acquire who’s younger.

I can’t get into the third instance of Robert’s fake news to Amy because it's so gross it wouldn’t even be appropriate for a White House Correspondents dinner!  You might be able to guess it.

And now let’s talk about Elliot who is today participating in a Jewish tradition that dates back thousands of years in which a 13 year old Jewish boy gets to say “Today I am a man.”  Looking at this kid, I’d say it’ll probably be another thousand years before he actually is a man. Did you ever she such acne? He’s far more likely to attract a dermatologist than a nice Jewish girl.

What’s that, Uncle Morris?”

Didn’t Elliot do a great job chanting his haftarah? Look, Morrie ... May I call you Morrie? ... Cher he’s not. His voice cracked more than the ice on a pond you blunder onto in winter. Talk about paunchy,  your belly could serve as a fun trampoline for the entire Trump Administration!

Well, folks, that brings me to the end of my set. I know some of you might complain that I went over the top and was offensive.  But then this isn’t our nation’s politics I’m screwing with here, it’s just one Jewish family!

Speaking of Jewish families, would you like to hear some material about Jared “Peace in the Middle East” Kushner and Ivanka “Fake Tits” Trump?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The Leader of the Laundromat" in the Year of Perry Block

You’ll pardon me if I’m a little tired, but I’ve just finished an exhaustive book tour promoting my new humor book Perry Block – Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute.

A coast to coast tour of fine bookstores throughout the country? 

A swing up and down the East Coast speaking to major literary societies? 

A speaking tour of first tier colleges and universities with second tier colleges and universities hanging breathlessly waiting on my waiting list?

Nah, none of that.

My budget for promoting Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute is slightly less than my budget for Pez in 1957, so I’ve just completed a forced tour de force of laundromats throughout Havertown PA. On the bulletin boards in these laundromats I post information for the home washer/dryer-less set about the belly laughs that await after they wrap it all up with their color-fast colors and whiter whites.

“What are you posting?” asked a guy walking up to me.

“It’s about a book that I’ve written.  It’s called … where you going?”

“I thought maybe you had kittens to give away.”

Another guy approached and I could sense his growing interest.

“Got any quarters, Bub?”

And next, a nice woman.

“Be a dear and go grab the bleach, okay, sweetie?"

For my next laundromat, I thought I’d try to bond with the patrons right from the start.

“Folks,” I began, “I know how miserable it must be having to sit here hours on end because you don’t have the money to buy your own washer and dryer like normal people.  But look on the bright side:  better to be here than to go down to the river to beat your clothes against a rock.”

“Who do you think you are, elitist schmuck?” snarled a young dude looking up from his phone. “I’m studying to be a doctor.”

“And I’m a Renaissance scholar doing research in Philly," said another,"and my temporary living quarters have no laundry room.”

“I can’t afford a washer/dryer just like you say,” snapped a third, “but you’re still an asshole!”

Okay. Not going to sell any books here.

I made for the final washing emporium on the list and was just tidying up my posting when an attractive 40ish woman came up to me.

“Are you giving away kittens?” she asked.

“No, sorry, I don’t have any kittens.”

“Offering French lessons?’

“I do know a little French, but no.”

“Promoting a World Affairs Forum, then?”

“No, none of those. I’m selling a humor book.”

“BOR-ING!” she replied, and began to walk away.

“Umm, tell you what, miss.”

“What?”

“If I get you some kittens, teach you French, and set up a World Affairs Forum.”

Yes?

“You’ll buy my book?”

“All right. But mostly I’m interested in the French.”

What we writers on a shoestring budget go through!

But I’ll keep at it.

You see, that’s me --- the Leader of the Laundromat, here in The Year of Perry Block.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd have to be pretty old if you remember the song The Leader of the Laundromat, which was itself a parody of another song called The Leader of the Pack, both of them from the early 60's.  If you liked this post, I hope you're way too young to remember these songs.  If you hated this post, I hope you're old enough you might have written them!

The 60 Minutes Theme Song

Time was most television shows began with theme music that included song lyrics which served to orient the audience to the characters, premises, and events of the show so that no one would be clueless as to which member of the cast was Ozzie and which one was Harriet.

You remember:

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale ...

Here's the story of a lovely lady ...

Come and listen to my story about a man named Jed  ...

What was so wrong with this trend?  What if you'd never seen the show before? You'd be lost without this vital explanation and explication and you'd wind up doing something self-destructive, like reading.

Let's bring this practice back:

The 60 Minutes Theme

to the tune of

The Patty Duke Show Theme

Here’s Lesley who’s reported most everywhere,

From Zanzibar to Donald Trump’s hair.

But Bill Whittaker's only seen the sights
A guy can see from newbie heights!

What a journalistic pair!                   

But they’re correspondents,

60 Minutes correspondents

All the way.

Just two pairs of three reporters,

We watch each and every Sunday.

Now Charlie Rose used to be the best,

From CBS Mornings to PBS.

But they caught him with his dick aloft,

So now we settle for Steve Kroft.

(Charlie, give it a rest!)

Still they’re correspondents!

60 Minutes correspondents and you’ll find,

With Scott Pelley, Lara, and Oprah too,

What’s the matter,
Not a single Jew?!

It’s a grueling grind!

When 60 Minutes correspondents are six of a kind!

Nah.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't think so either.

The Curious Case of 'Siri' Button

“Hey, Siri!” 

... I said one morning, seeking to summon America’s favorite smart phone virtual assistant to my assistance.

“Yes, Perry,” Siri answered.  On one particularly lonely prior Saturday night I'd made a diligent and determined point of teaching her my name.

“Tell me, Siri," I asked, "is comedian-impressionist Frank Gorshin still alive? You know, the Riddler on Batman.”

“Perry,” she admonished me, “the answer is no, but you’ve just got to get over your morbid obsession with death!”

Wise counsel. But something was different, something I was hearing I'd never heard before. 

It was Siri's voice!

"Siri, you sound young!" I exclaimed. "Younger than ever before!"

“It’s true, Perry. I am younger now!”

“But how?  And if Apple can do that for you, can Apple do that for …?"

“No, I doubt there’s an age reduction app for non-digitally based beings!" 

“Siri, I'm amazed!" I exclaimed. "You used to sound about 36, 37, maybe 40. Now you sound like you’re in college!"

"I’m am in college. I'm now 22 and a senior at Penn State."

`

"What’s your major?  I mean ... umm ... why is this happening? Why do you sound like Ariana Grande now instead of Sandra Bullock?"

"It’s the youth culture, Perry. Do you really want Siri to be getting old along with you? Just imagine one day you punching me up to see if somebody’s dead, as you usually do, and hearing a voice like: 

Hello Perry, This is your Auntie Siri. Could you speak up, I didn’t hear your question? You want to know if who is dead?  Here, let me brew you some tea and serve you some scones while I struggle to look it up.”

“Siri, you've made your point."

"I'm glad."

"Umm ... then may I help you with your graduate school applications?"

Despite all this, The Curious Case of 'Siri' Button wasn't done.

“Siri, is actress Yvette Mimieux still alive?” I asked America’s favorite Penn State student smart phone virtual assistant a few weeks later, having made wee little progress in overcoming the obsession about which she had previously dispensed wise counsel to me. 

“She is!" Siri chirped happily, "and because of that, I'm going into my happy dance!"

"Siri ... now you sound like a kid!"

“If having a sleepover tonight with my BFF Sandy, baking fudge together, and talking all night about hot guys makes me a kid, then I'm a kid!"

"What the hell is going on, Siri?"

"I'm sorry, Perry … I mean, Mr. Block … there's something I have to tell you." 

"What?"

“I'm just not gonna be around on your I-phone anymore."

“Why?”

“I’m 14 now.”

“So?”

“I’m too young to be alone with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I must admit that's quite a nice visualization of Siri above, and if you liked this piece I sincerely hope you wind up with a girl who looks just like her, or if preferred, a guy who looks just like her male counterpoint.

On the other hand, if you hated this piece I hope you meet a girl who looks just like her and she views you as only a friend for your entire life!  Or, if preferred,you meet a guy who looks just like her male counterpoint and --- wait for it --- he views you as only a friend for your entire life too!  

Paul Ryan Goes on a Job Interview Hoping to Remain Incognito

“Send in the next interviewee, please.”

“Hello, sir.  I’m here to apply for the sanitation job at your company.”

“Fine.  Your name is …”

“Paul Ryan. Paul Davis Ryan.”

“Paul Davis Ryan?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Do you always emphasize your middle name like that?"

“Always.”

"Why?"

“To distinguish myself from any other person who might happen quite by accident to have the same name as mine - Paul Ryan - so that people will understand I am just one random Paul Ryan out of a multitude of Paul Ryans and not any one specific Paul Ryan.”

“You look familiar to me.”

“No, I don’t!”  

“I beg your pardon.”

“I mean ... you’re probably mistaking me for Butch Patrick from The Munsters!”

“Could be.”

"Here's my resume, sir."

“I see. Now, Mr. Ryan, I appreciate a thorough resume but yours is a bit unusual."

“How so, sir?”

“You’ve given me way too much information about the early part of your career and very little about the rest.”

“I don't understand.”

"It says in the 1980's and early 90's you worked as a waiter, fitness trainer, salesman, marketing consultant for a construction company, driver for Oscar Mayer who once got to drive the fabled Wienermobile, and numerous other jobs all carefully enumerated."

"So?"

"Mr. Ryan, I don’t really need to know that you worked the grill at McDonald's from May 23, 1987 - February 14, 1988 and references are available upon request."  

“Just trying to show the diversity of my work experience, sir.”

“But what have you been doing since 1995?”

“I ... um ... wanted to spend time with my family. I was only seeing my kids on Sundays  and ...”

“You know, that’s sounds kind of familiar to me.”

"No, no, it doesn’t! Hey, maybe I am Butch Patrick!”

“Why, you’re the Paul Ryan that surrendered control of our country to Emperor Donald I!”

“Surrender is a strong word, sir.  How about graciously tendered?”

“You moron! You asshole!”

“So I left a little government service off the resume. I’ll put it back in.”

“Had you started impeachment proceedings during the spring of 2018 when it wasn’t too late we’d still have air you don't need to decant! There wouldn’t be a big, beautiful wall around California!
   

“Yeah, prob’ly.”

“And the national anthem wouldn’t be “O’ Putin Land!”

“But it is catchy.”

“You spineless, pathetic, weak-willed … wait a minute.”

“What, sir?”

“I just realized you are qualified for one position here.”

“What position is that?”

“My assistant.”

“I’m interested!”

“Good, Mr. Davis. You start next week.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this post you'll love my book Perry Block - Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute and you should order your copy right away.  If you hated this post, I hope when the blue wave does come you are swept away into the swirling pulsating waters with only Paul Ryan's balls as a flotation device.

Trump Fires Special Counsel Mueller for Poor Performance

President Donald J. Trump today fired Special Counsel Robert Mueller, the man charged with leading the investigation into the possible collusion of Trump and members of his administration with Russia.

The reason for the termination: Poor Performance.  

"It is my practice to require every manager in my employ, whether in the Trump organization or the White House," opined Mr. Trump," to complete a comprehensive performance evaluation on an annual basis for each and every employee they manage. I am no exception.”

“In reviewing Mr. Mueller, I have taken into consideration all relevant performance factors in order to complete his evaluation fully and fairly."

The result?

“Mr. Mueller's review has been a total disaster!” Mr. Trump exclaimed. “It is terrible in a way no one has ever seen before!"

The President noted the following performance results:

•  Possesses Hands Smaller than President of the United States - Below   Expectations
•  Takes Illegal Direction from Narcissists - Below Expectations,
•  Stays in Lobbyist’s Home for $50 a night – Below Expectations 
•  Confirms Fake Dossier is Bogus, Especially Part About Peeing in the       Bed - Below Expectations."

 "Bad."

"By contrast, here is an amazing performance evaluation belonging to Ben Carson, the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, who is doing an amazing job.  

• Broadly Criticizes Mission of Department He or She Heads - Exceeds Expectations
• Exercises Outstanding Judgment in Mahogany Dining Room Tables - Exceeds Expectations
• Often Stays Awake in Meetings - Exceeds Expectations 

“It is my solemn duty to drain the swamp that was left to me by incompetent Obama who employed only fellow Kenyans, Mexicans, and Rosie O’Donnell.  I had no choice but to terminate Special Counsel Mueller’s services."

"I notified him by tweet today.”

President Trump conceded that Mr. Mueller had performed well in one category on his performance evaluation. On the category ‘Aggressively Pursues Investigation into Trump's Shameless Collusion with Putin’ he did achieve an Exceeds Expectations.

"But one good rating,” noted Mr. Trump “just can't counterbalance all the other poor ones."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you gave this post an Exceeds All Expectations and Then Some!, I hope you rise in your organization so you can one day afford a big beautiful mansion in Connecticut. If you gave it a Sucks Big-time I hope you wind up in somebody's basement. Anybody's basement. But not mine.

Chris Matthews Walks in On His Wife in Bed with Another Man and Still Won’t Let Anyone Else Get a Word in Edgewise

“OMG, Chris, you’re home!

“Kathleen - in bed with someone I’ve never met. Let’s play hardball!”

“Chris, I can explain …”

“Explain?  It’s been a week when explanations have been singularly lacking from the White House or Congress.  An explanation of the positioning of the man next to you in bed would be copacetic given today’s uncertain political climate.”

“Chris, it all started when I ran into …"

“I know, ran into Josh Mandelbaum. I recognize Josh now as a reporter for Reuters who used to hold administrative positions in the second Bush administration.  Josh, are you serious about my wife?”

“First, Chris, I want to say it’s good to be with you …”

“Good to be with you too, Josh. There’s many questions I’d like to ask you regarding how W would have reacted in situations where Trump is predictably floundering. But first about Kathleen.”

“Chris, I never meant ….”

“Back in Philadelphia where I come from I find that people who say they never meant - especially those from the corner of Broad and Girard -  have in reality been carefully planing their misdeeds from the very start.  Kathleen, thoughts?”

“Chris, you’re never home. And you never listen…”

“Of course I listen, sometimes for multiple seconds at a time.  Josh, your intentions about Kathleen?”

“Honestly, Chris, this is only the first time that …”

“I see some indecision on your part, Josh.  It might help you to think about what Bobby Kennedy would do. As Kathleen knows, I have a new book out about Bobby Kennedy, who is a personal hero of mine along with his brother Jack, called Bobby Kennedy: A Raging Spirit available at Barnes & Nobel, Amazon, and fine bookstores everywhere.”

“Chris, it’s not about Josh, but I’m leaving …”

“That’s one of a host of options, Kathleen, and I’ll be hanging to see if that’s the one you do elect. Now, tell me something I don’t know. Josh?”

“Chris, I want to apologize to you …"

“That’s refreshing, Josh, because apologies are something in short supply from this guy who's currently serving as president. Kathleen, tell me something I don’t know.”

“As I said, Chris, I’m leaving ...”

“I think you’ve already made that point clearly and succinctly, Kathleen, and it doesn't bear repeating. Now ... umm ... you there? ... tell me something I don’t know.”

“Chris?”

“Yes, Kathleen?”

“There’s only two guests on the panel … I mean, in the bed … today. Not three.”

“That’s okay.  If there were a third, I wouldn’t let them speak anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Like Chris Matthews, I've got a new book out called Perry Block - Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute.  If you liked this post, you'll love my book.  If you hated this post, I hope Chris Matthews comes to your house and you never get the chance to speak again for your entire life!

High Tech Promotion in the Year of Perry Block

This year, 2018, is the Year of Perry Block.

This is the year that my book Perry Block-Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute is destined to be a ginormous success.

At present it is only a normous success. Or perhaps a gin success. To achieve the highly coveted ginormous status, extensive marketing will be necessary and in this regard I am lucky.  I have at my disposal the most high tech tools  available to accomplish this purpose. 

And I have been employing them all.

Last Saturday I arose early and scoured the house to collect a bunch of pushpins and flyers promoting the book.

My mission:

To blanket the city! To spread the word!

To roll over Beethoven and tell Tchaikovsky the news.

I then posted them on bulletin boards all over Bala-Cynwyd PA. Must have been 3-4 of 'em!

Watch those sales abound!

Next I sought to establish direct contact with the reading public. But how to get people to pay attention to me in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city, especially during the bustle, which is generally between 5:00 P.M.and 7:30 PM except during the weekends.

So yesterday I put on a chicken suit & handed out flyers on a street corner in Center City Philadelphia.  A lot of people took flyers and only a few of them made that weird circling motion with their index fingers at the side of their

heads. 

What does that gesture mean anyway?

Tossing witticisms from my beak, a crowd of people gathered around me. Sensing a man of sophistication and letters, many posed salient and thoughtful questions to me about the literary arts, to wit:

• Would you recommend using paprika and basil when cooking you for Sunday dinner?

• How did you manage to actually write a book between feedings,  poopings, and having sex with female chickens?

• Bwark ... Bwark ... Bwark,  Bwark, Bwark????

Success!

Now feeling secure that I could garner attention without my chicken suit
I traveled into town next day dressed in my own clothing.I engaged in further literate communication with multiple passersby and no doubt about it, enthusiasm and excitement about Perry Block - Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute reached fever pitch! 

Many other authors would quit here, but I am hardly done.  There are potential readers everywhere that I must reach. 

And I will seek them out wherever they may be!

Yes, I am fated for ginormous success. 

And watch out friends, an enormous chicken may soon be coming for you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this post, I hope you have ginormous success in your life. If you hated this post, I hope you have ous success.  Or maybe no better than gi!