Tag Archives: Humor

Marriage, Bitch.

With Delaware there’s now eleven states in our great nation

To have legalized gay marriage, bitch, that’s cause for celeBRATION

And when it comes to marriage, I am TOTES the expert source

I’ve been married five whole years, so like, DUH OF COURSE

Now that so many more of us can enter wedded bliss

I’m ’bout to give y’all some insight BETTA LISTEN UP TO THIS

Now, I really love my husband, bitch, I’ve said it many times

We’re committed to each other (COUGH COUGH LeAnn COUGH COUGH Rimes)

But marriage is complex and really nobody explores

All the things be happenin’ behind closed married doors

So before y’all get hitched and go become co-haBITable

There are many things ’bout which you should make sure you’re compatTITible

Today I’m here to tell you ’bout just one point of contention

That has lately caused some stress on our here marital convention

See there’s one thing that my husband likes a VERY certain way

Whereas I prefer it sloppily and sometimes twice a day

I initiate and get it done most of the time, however,

He would rather do it rigidly and frankly, HARDLY EVER

Now, Im not intent to scare you or cause feelings of foreboding

But before you wed, you GOTSTA talk about DISHWASHER LOADING

This is a sad sad problem, kids, so go and grab your tissues

And thank y’all for listenin’ to my WHITE GIRL JEWISH ISSUES

This has long been a problem in our real humble abode

Though I get away with my way, almost every fuckin’ load

The only time is sucks is when my guy catches a glimpse

He thinks he’s the big daddy of DISHWASHER LOADING PIMPS

And he kinda is an expert on the loading of it since

He’s never EVER lived without one (he’s a pretty pretty prince)

We’re equals in our marriage, so bitch I don’t let him rule me

But when he sees my sloppy loading he can’t help but try to school me

His arrangement of the forks is always much better than mine

“You have to separate them so they’re  CLEAN BETWEEN EACH TINE”

(That’s what the spikes on a fork are called. BITCH)

I put the glasses on the prongs and he’s all, “NO! They’re there to NESTLE”

“And tupperware goes on the top OR ELSE YOU’LL WARP THE VESSEL”

He tries to be real tender as he flips over the knives

“Honey, you don’t realize this is endangering our lives” (they’re butter knives)

“And only put as many glasses in as the tray can take,

Overcrowding and vibrations gonna cause that shit to BREAK”

“AND separate the plates, it’s REALLY BAD when they are stacking”

BITCH, you know what’s REALLY BAD? FUCKIN’hydroFRICKINGfracking

But I always get the job done when I do it my own way

He’s like the mean coach from The Mighty Ducks and BITCH, I’M COACH BOMBAY

And truth be told, the tips he has are really kinda great

But he hasn’t loaded up that shit since TWO THOUSAND AND EIGHT

And he’s so smart it blows my mind, he never stops to think

How those dishes all get clean when he just leaves them in the SINK

There are famous sloppy loaders, take Korean rapper Psy or

Perhaps Elena Kagan or SONIA SOTOMAYOR

Ok, I made that up, but you get what I mean

If a tree falls in a forest, THEN THAT SHIT’S STILL FUCKIN’ CLEAN

But when he redoes all my loading and tells me that’s horrible

I can’t help but to smile cuz his OCD’s adorable

And each time we end up laughing, every time a little louder

As he tells me why the tablets are much better than the powder

So even with this issue, this problem SO domestic

Being married to your best friend bitch, really is majestic

I’ll go put away the dishes now, no reason to protest

There’s only two glasses to put away (cuz bitch, I broke the rest)

Word.

1 Comment

Equality, Bitch.

So I’m riding on the subway with my fellow Jews & goys

And sitting right across I see these gorgeous little boys

They were riding on the 6 train with this chick who was their nanny

(No, not cuz they’re Hispanic and this chick is Pakistani)

I heard her tellin’ someone she’s a nanny and a bassist

I didn’t make assumptions, bitch, I AIN’T NO NANNY RACIST

They were playing nice and quietly with little cars and boats

And dressed up so adorably in MATCHING MONCLER COATS

They were munching on some healthy snacks, a little veggie crudo

They looked like tiny 4-year-old MEMBERS OF MENUDO

As I looked into their gorgeous eyes and perfect dimpled grins

I whispered, “Motherfucker.  THOSE ARE RICKY MARTIN’S TWINS.”

Bitch, I’m well-versed in celeb kids (I once saw Bronx Mowgli Wentz)

And Ricky Martin’s on the East Side SO THE 6 TRAIN WOULD MAKE SENSE!

Of course I kept real quiet (didn’t wanna seem a dork)

Bitch, that’s just how you roll when YOU ARE FUCKIN’ FROM NEW YORK

(Well, I’m actually from Cleveland, but I’m sayin’ that’s how I WOULD in fact roll, if I was actually from New York) (bitch)

And speaking of New York, there is no place I’d rather be

Than where these two boys and their dads can be a fuckin’ family

I looked right at these happy kids, how nicely they were seated

And I thought about some news of late and got real fuckin’ heated

I promised long ago I wouldn’t make this blog political

But this shit isn’t politics–BITCH, I ain’t hypocritical

Keeping anyone from marrying just really gets me fumin’

I told ya, it ain’ politics, it’s simply fuckin’ HUMAN

Folks comparing beastiality to people who are gay!?!?

If anyone’s unfit to parent it’s the ones who think that way

Politicians cheering Chick-fil-a, all in the name of God?

And what if Track or Trig were gay?? Or (more likely)Todd?

The best thing we can give this world, so far and above

Is to let us all live equally and openly with love

I left train and smiled at Matteo and his brother (Valentino. duh.)

Who on earth would keep their dads from fuckin’ marrying each other?

Bitch, I fucking love my husband, our bond is crazy thick

I’d SO marry him again, even if he were a chick

Love is simply love, gay or straight, New York or Boca

And for two people in love to wed? That vida sure ain’t loca

I walked home and I thought about how much I find it bothering

How anyone could question love and question loving fathering

NPH and David Burtka, Ellen, Portia, Cam & Mitch?

If anyone keeps them from marrying, I’ll fuckin’ choke a bitch

I got home and went online for just a little decompression

And I wrote this lil’ rap for you in true PASSIVE AGGRESSION

And I Google Image searched a pic of Ricky and his tots

And I found one from that very day!  I’M LIKE GONNA PLOTZ

He was walking through an airport, kids in hand and standing tall

And I zoomed in on the boys  AND THEY WEREN’T WHO I SAW AT ALL

They were acting like his kids, one on each leg so tightly latching

BUT IT JUST CAN’T BE SO! THEIR JACKETS AREN’T EVEN MATCHING

They had no designer clothes and no Evita paraphernalia

And they weren’t on the 6 train–THEY WERE FUCKING IN AUSTRALIA

So my boys weren’t Ricky Martin’s kids, as far as I can tell

But I’m sure they have gay dads–they just were dressed too fucking well

No matter who their parents are, why not let them wed?

I logged onto my Facebook, seems we all be seeing red

Other people’s love is good, please don’t be a hater

Don’t be a Scalia, be a Kagan or RUTH BADER

Let’s keep our fingers crossed that we will see the end of DOMA

And see some FAB new registries at Williams and Sonoma

And let’s all teach our kids to love, they hear what we’re impartin’

Do it for the greater good (and for Ricky Martin)

Word.japequality

Leave a comment

Menstrual Man, Bitch.

If you’re livin’ with a lady, then you know there’s nothing worse

Than that one week of the month when she gets the fuckin’ CURSE

No matter what you say, there will always be a fight

For that week (and more) you’re wrong, I mean, ladies, am I right?

So don’t bother with affection, you’re just wasting all your doting

Cuz we’d rather be alone with our Chipotle, gas, and bloating

And though I do want that burrito, I’m not trying to brag

But I really don’t get moody when I’m on the fuckin’ RAG

Now, please don’t be mistaken, thinkin’ that’s so advantageous

Because lately I’m convinced that menstrual symptoms are contagious

I have lots of detailed evidence, I’m sharing just a kernel

I’MMMA publish all this shit in the New England fuckin’ JOURNAL

It’s a medical wonder, but to you I will confess:

That when I get my ladies, my man gets the PMS

I think the estrogen just floats around and does a little switchy

I get the zits and bloating and my husband GETS THE BITCHY

Don’t get me wrong, he is a dude, all manly and testicular

But on that one week he’s stubborn and he’s so crazily particular

He’s perfect all the other weeks, with hardly any flaws

So I’ll put up with all this shit UNTIL WE MENOPAUSE

I could tell so many stories cuz the instances are ample

But here is just the latest–I’M ‘BOUT TO GIVE YOU AN EXAMPLE:

Last weekend we went out of town to see our good friends marry

Our flight was Friday evening when the traffic can be hairy

We planned to cab it straight from work which was already quite darin’

But we couldn’t miss this wedding MAZEL TOV TO BEN AND ARYN

So Friday morning when he left for work, my guy knew he’d been meaning

To drop of his enormous load of dirty damn dry cleaning

‘Twas seven in the morning and of course he had supposed

That the cleaners would be open, but bitch, they were fuckin’ closed

Hong’s Cleaners is his favorite, whether April, June, or March

He goes there all year long because he LOVES THE WAY THEY STARCH

He passed by 5 other stores because their starch is “reprehensible”

So he brought that shit to work, he’s a doctor AND SO SENSIBLE

So the patients that were crying that their cancer really hurts

Were prob’ly thrilled to see their doctor AND HIS FUCKIN’ DIRTY SHIRTS

I should mention we’ve no laundry bag, so don’t misunderstand, NO

He had his shirts all free and loose: DRY CLEANING COMMANDO

But of course he came up with a plan, never once forgetting

That he wasn’t going home that night, but flying to a wedding

He’d hop right in a cab, we had a flight and we would catch it

He’d meet me with his dry cleaning and like a WIFE I’d fetch it

I drop it with my doorman who’s all, “Someone come and getting it??”

I yell back, “YEP,” jump in the cab, already regretting it

I say, “Let’s call the cleaners, not leave shirts there in obscurity”

And he’s like, “NO! WE HAVE TO WAIT ‘TIL WE GET THROUGH SECURITY”

I sigh, “OK” and didn’t say, “THAT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE”

Cuz all these years have taught me YOU CAN’T REASON WITH THE MENSE

Now the best thing you can do is get a menstrual one some grub

Like the baller that I am I got us in the DELTA CLUB

At this point PMS was really getting kinda scary

So I go straight to the bar and get my man a bloody mary

When your man has PMS and he starts to get real colicky

Get him something spicy, pickled, and REAL alcoholicky

I snuck away to call the cleaners and I left my guy alone

(With 3 packets of Nutella and some HUMMUS IN A CONE)

So I go look up the number thinking Google’d be of help

But I couldn’t find Hong’s Cleaners there, NOT EVEN ON YELP

Nervously I searched and searched and then to my surpriser

HONG TEAM CLEANERS! THANK YOU SO MUCH, TRIP ADVISOR!

The guy answers the phone and I can’t understand a word

English isn’t his first language IT’S HIS MOTHA FUCKIN’ THIRD

I say my last name and address maybe six or seven times

I’d repeat what he yelled back but THERE AIN’T NO WAY THAT IT RHYMES

We go back and forth for minutes and now both of us are yelling

Who’d be picking up our clothes? There really was no way of telling

The chances it’d be Hong you’d think are looking rather slim, huh?

But otherwise he would have brought his LAUNDRY TO A SIMCHA

I look back at my guy who was three bloody marries deep

We stepped aboard the plane and went to MOTHAFUCKIN’ SLEEP

We had a lovely weekend, danced and drank the wine of Bacchus

We celebrated Ben and Aryn, OMG you guys, SUCH NACHES

We got back home that Sunday, took the bus from LGA

And we walked home from the bus stop and passed Hong along the way

They are always closed on Sundays, but my eye did catch their awning

And my jaw dropped to the ground (but I pretended I was yawning)

Their phone number was on it, though the digits were quite small

I knew that wasn’t who I called–UM LIKE NOT EVEN AT ALL

The shirts weren’t at my building, so who had them was a mystery

But I would crack this case, THANK YOU IPHONE CALLER HISTORY

I snuck on my computer and I got the fuckin’ hookup

Hong “TEAM” Cleaners, THANK YOU REVERSE FUCKIN’ LOOKUP

Now as far as my guy knew, there were no problems all along

And I’ll never ever tell him that I got the WRONG HONG

Within two fucking blocks how many Hongs could there be?

Well bitch, I learned the hard way that the answer here is THREE

I tracked the cleaning down and the next day went and got it

I took the plastic off and swiftly placed it in the closet

And he never had to know about this tiny little hiccup

And I went back to his Hong and signed his ass up for FREE PICK-UP

He got dressed today and said, “This starch is weird”, OH?? IS IT?!

I just told him to back off because AUNT FLO IS HERE TO VISIT.

Word.

1 Comment

I Met Bill Clinton, Bitch.

Yo I write the little raps, y’all, and oftentimes I feel

I gots to trick you all and pull this fuckin’ big reveal

Like that time I made you think I was using toys for lovin’

When really I was rappin’ bout my BREVILLE TOASTER OVEN

Or just last rap I said I had this big thing to confess

And it was that I had flu, (but fo reals I was a mess)

I think some misdirection sometimes is a little nice

Bitch, I love me some red herring LIT-ER-ARY DEVICE

But today I’ll come right out, you don’t need no fuckin’ hintin’

I’ll just say it, OH EM GEE, you guys, I MET BILL FUCKIN’ CLINTON

I just had left the gym, didn’t shower, I just went

I’m all, “Who is gonna see me? Not my FAVORITE PRESIDENT!”

I rocked my Uggs and puffy coat, Lululemon up my crotch

There was funeral traffic, REST IN PEACE TO MAYOR KOCH

So I’m waiting for the bus, just three stops, but that’s just fine

I GOTSTA USE MY MONTHLY ON THE M79

The bus stops right outside this fancy vegan restaurant

But on this afternoon three Escalades were PARKED OUT FRAUUNT

I had eaten there before, I found it gimmicky and faddish

I ordered ravioli, bitch, they made it outta RADDISH

I don’t know about y’all, but when I order ravioli

I don’t like to go home starving and eat MIDNIGHT GUACAMOLE

But after he left office and left Hills to deal with Putin

Billy boy went vegan and he cut down on his GLUTEN

So I’m standing with this Asian woman and her little son

When a guy jumps out the Escalade and then another one

They walk up to the restaurant and open up the door

And then the thing happened THAT I TOLD YOU BOUT BEFORE

BILL CLINTON emerged, bitch, the whole damn world stopped turning

It coulda been my lack of shower, but my underparts were burning

He walked right out the door and the scene played in slow motion

There was just so much to say and I was filled with such emotion

This man was good for everyone, small business and big firms

Our country saw such surplus when Bill Clinton served his terms

He led us from a dark place to unheralded prosperity

He gives hope and with his intellect, he always sheds such clarity

He’s sensible and wise and he always sticks to facts

(He’s a vegan silver fox and he could play me like a sax)

I thought of all these things and I stayed calm with all my might

When before he reached his car, he turned slightly to the right

With security around to make sure no one had a bomb

He walked right to the bus stop, UP TO ME AND ASIAN MOM

I looked into his eyes, like a sea of baby blue

And I melted to a puddle of a little rapping Jew

He extended his hand, with the secret service flanking him

I didn’t know what I should do, so I thought I’d stick to spanking him thanking him

He shook my hand, said, “Nice to meet you,” so gentle and so kind

When all my English words quickly left my little mind

I couldn’t feel my face, I could hardly even hear

So I just smiled with my whole face, bitch, from ear to shining ear

He then shook Asian Mom’s hand and her son’s hand in the middle

And he nodded back at grinning me (I maybe peed a little)

And shaking hands with him, by proxy, probably would mean

That I shook hands with the President of 20damn16

He climbed into his car, and he went along his way

And I thought a lot about the words I never got to say

I just met the greatest leader that our lives may ever know

And I thank you, crosstown bus, for always being so damn slow

And thank you, Mr. President, I never will forget you

And let’s lay off Lewinsky, folks, cuz Monica, I get you

word.

Leave a comment

A Confession, Bitch.

Yo, I’ve got a confession you can add to your roster

No, I’m not “single,” sorry, Jodie frickin’ Foster

And the rumors aren’t true, sorry those who were hopin’

Though I have mad flow, I ain’t RAP BLOOD DOPIN’

But it’s time I come out and be reals witch alla you

WHEW, here it goes, OK, I HAD THE FUCKIN’ FLU

When it comes to making friends, I know this news ain’t advantageous

So I waited weeks to tell ya so I’m not at all contagious

I cannot believe I got it, since I’m such a germaphobie

But I had all of these symptoms (POP THIS SHIT UP ON ADOBE)

I always wash my hands, and got a flu shot as well

Bitch, I married a doctor simply for the free Purell

I’ll explain how it went down so that you can all avert it

This is how I got the flu, I NOW WILL PUBLIC HEALTH ALERT IT

It was just a normal night, I was feelin’ good and perky

On the phone with my mom, mackin’ on some TURKEY JERKY

My ma’s all, “Whachu eating?” And I’m like, “Jerkey, of course”

STOP JUDGING ME, MOM, “IT’S A GOOD LEAN PROTEIN SOURCE”

“Well, you sound a little sick,” my mother had to denote

“I just have turkey jerky ALL UP IN MY THROAT”

I tried to clear it out and then let out a cough,

“It’s the motha fuckin’ jerky! UGH MOM, BACK OFF”

She’s like, “I’m gonna hang up, but you’re sounding rather fluish”

And I’m like, “I’MMA HANG UP, YOU SOUNDIN’ MOTHERLY AND JEWISH”

So I put down the phone, took a breath and regrouped

And I turn on CNN “HEY SEXY LIL’ SANJAY GUPT“

He was talkin’ bout the flu and said, “The symptoms come on quickly”

And all of the sudden, bitch, I started feelin’ sickly

My body got real shaky and my muscles started achin’

I looked like Liam Neeson’s daughter’s friend in fuckin’ TAKEN

(the original, BUT PROBABLY TAKEN 2 TOO, BITCH)

My temperature clocked in at a hundred and TWO

BITCH I MOTHAFUCKIN’ HAD THE FUCKIN’ MOTHAFUCKIN’ FLU

I spent the next week in a little fetal tuck

It wasn’t the jerky, my ma was right, motha FUCK

And the rest of the week, this was pretty much my story

I spend entire days in my bed with Roma Torre

All the comics would make jokes about the flu and when they went, “So you’ve heard about this flu?”

I would eek out a “REPRESENT”

I had an awesome dream my bestie was Maria Shriver

And I dreamt they gave a talk show to that host guy from Survivor

I spent five days in bed and was all sweaty and dirty

I looked just like the tortured guy in ZERO DARK THIRTY

Most people’s flus went longer, but my symptoms started slowin’

That’s because I had a flu shot, THANK YOU DOCTOR BARRY COHEN

So the moral of the story is, it just ain’t worth the plight

Wash your hands, get a flu shot, and your mother’s always right

Although, I will admit, I felt relaxed and kinda thin

And probably the trendiest that I’ve ever been

And even though I lost a week and was feeling really shitty

I think we can agree that I looked real frickin’ pretty.

photo-21

word.

1 Comment

Holiday Recap, Bitch.

‘Twas the holiday season, so I took a little breather

For New Years and for Christmas, (even though I’m no believer)

So everybody clap your hands and maybe shake a titty

And I’ll tell you ’bout my holidays RIGHT HERE IN NEW YORK CITY

The greatest city in the world, at the best of the year

Christmas day’s my favorite when I spend it UP IN HERE

I made some coffee in my Chemex which I bought at Sur La Table

And hopped aboard the train to see LES FUCKIN’ MISERABLES

The only tickets I could get required us to travel down

DON’T UNDERESTIMATE HOW MANY JEWS LIVE HERE UPTOWN

Now, this is real embarrassing, I am quite ashamed to tout

I had never seen the show, I never knew what it’s about

I know, I know, I’m sorry, on Yom Kippur I’ll repent

But for now, I saw the movie, SO I’LL TELL YOU HOW IT WENT

Jean Valjean stole what must’ve been some really damn good bread

Fantine becomes a whore because of her enormous head

She sings and cries real hard and it’s emotionally draining

And she let the cameraman fulfill his endoscopic training

I thought I heard a sheep with Parkinson’s, but that was just Cosette

And I felt bad for Eponine, so single, and so wet

The rebels fought on mounds of furniture, just asking for an injury

While Marius was hiding that he’s really rich and gingery

Javert falls real far to the water down below

And I kinda didn’t mind, I couldn’t listen to him CROWe

They all die and wave a flag and sing a big ol’ song

You should go, but bring a catheter, it’s eighteen hours long

And so we left the movie and the streets were calm and placid

And we made our way to Chinatown and each popped an antacid

As Jewish folk, we’re prone to acid reflux damn disease

And we’re also prone on Christmas day to eat some DAMN CHINESE

I thought we’d go downtown and celebrate Chinese ethnicity

So we went to Spicy Village, bitch, I’m all ’bout authenticity

We got the big hot pot of chicken from a waitress who was toneless

But it freaked my Jew boy out cuz HE PREFERS HIS CHICKEN BONELESS

Which brings me to the new year, bitch, you just would not believe

What it’s like to be in NYC on NEW YEARS FUCKIN’ EVE

You’ll pay a ton at shitty restaurants, fixed menus and bad food

Bitch, I wouldn’t pay that much for Daniel fuckin’ BOULUD

You could pay a ton for parties and before the bubbly’s popped

You’re surrounded by obnoxious kids whose own balls haven’t dropped

And you kiss someone at midnight cuz you think that sounds like fun

And you start the new year off with herpes simplex TYPE ONE

We totally were gonna go to a crazy rager

But my husband is a doctor, it’d be hard to hear his pager

So we stayed in our apartment, locked the deadbolt on the door

And we had our favorite new years, which I really do adore

We order tons of shitty tacos, the worst we can obtain

And pair them with a bottle of fantastic-ass champagne

And we eat and drink and get into a gassy drunken stupor

And watch some Kathy Griffin and a giggly Andy Cooper

I find the best of holidays are drama-free and braless

And spent with the one I the love most–these holidays were flawless

So there you have my full recap, from Christmas to the ball

And a very happy new year from Jap Rapper to y’all.

Word.

2 Comments

Party Foul, Bitch.

Ho Ho Ho, bitch! ‘Tis the fuckin’ season

To throw a fuckin’ party for just any rhyme or reason

Time to take a vacay (or pretend and wear some bronzer)

And light all of the lights for Jesus, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaar

But before you head out and party with your friends or firms

I feel I need to teach you to spread CHEER and not your GERMS

I’ve rapped to you before ’bout how to keep from getting sick

But there’s one germy threat happ’nin’ at parties IN PARTIC

Now I’m not a fan of parties, though I know most of you are

I’d rather eat Chinese and watch The View on DVR

But I always end up going cuz I’m not a fuckin’ flake

I go to spread the joy, but bitch, I mostly go for CAKE

Actually I prob’ly should be slightly more specific

I could do without the cake itself, but FROSTING IS TERRIFIC

Open bars are nice, but bitch, ain’t nothing more enticing

Than a fuckin’ slice of cake with a WHOLE SHIT-TON OF ICING

And my husband won’t eat frosting! NOPE! The cake part’s all he eats

That’s why we got married, bitch, ECONOMY OF TREATS

He know’s all he’s got do if he wants to get some nookie

Is to let me make a bitch out of a BLACK & WHITE COOKIE (only the white side, duh)

And so I’m here to tell you all something that really makes me scowl

My number one all time biggest fuckin’ party foul

It’s an issue that dates back to when I was a lil’ child

When the coolest girl in school had this birthday that was wild

At that roller skating rink with the disco lights for Thriller

The coolest kids in school were there, the GOODIE BAGS WERE KILLER

And then her mom brought out the cake–it was white with chocolate drizzle

There was tons of fuckin’ frosting, bitch, this cake was off the HIZZLE

And her mom cut her the first piece, which of course I thought was fine

Do I really need to tell you who was fucking next in line?

And then the most horrific thing I had seen in my young life

Her mothafuckin’ mom LICKED the MOTHAFUCKIN’ KNIFE!

She put the knife back in the cake and my eyes were wide with horror

She cut me off a piece and my jaw dropped on the FLOORER

I watched her do it ever time, licking all that fucking frosting

And I simply couldn’t eat the cake, THAT SHIT WAS DISGOSTING

Which brings us to last week when I was faced with this aGAIN

Now I’m all adult and shit, toasting my champagne

When all of the sudden I got real enthusiastic

When they brought out a cake that looked FUCKING FANTASTIC

This cake looked so amazing, it looked like an utter dream

With tons of salted caramel fuckin’ buttercream

The bartender began to cut amidst my great emotion

And all of the sudden things just went into slow motion

He wiped the knife off on his hand and of course my gaze did linger

As he slowly sucked the frosting off of EVERY FUCKING FINGER

It was like a fucking crime, I shoulda called the dang police

As he went and stuck those hands in every motherfuckin’ piece

Pensively I took my slice, and perhaps it was the booze

But I knew cake was something that was just too good to lose

And that shit was so damn good, you guys, I swear I’d give fellatio

To the baker who decided on that frosting to cake ratio

And I’m glad I stretched my bounds a bit, this Hanukkah I grew

But this entire fuckin’ week I’ve had the mothafuckin’ flu

So simply to avoid this very tragic party foul

I urge you to use protection, wipe your knife off on a towel

And that girl whose mom was gross, well, she turned out kinda groovy

You can all see her this Christmas starring in that Les Miz movie

(Totally kidding, it wasn’t Anne Hathaway. But it would be crazy if it was, right?)

WORD.

Leave a comment

Potty Politics

Yo I’ve got a bone that I’ve gotsta pick with you

Sometimes I complain, you see, because I am a Jew

And when something annoys me, or stresses me out it

Occurs to me to write a fuckin’ Jewey rap about it

So I came to you today with a well-defined mission

To make things better in the bathroom when we’re agoing public pishin’

Now this shit is for serious, a really major gripe

When people tinkle on the seat and they don’t even care to WIPE

And that’s what I’ll discuss today, with you I’ll share my views

But what irks me even more is what I’m seein’ on the news

BUT I decided long ago I wouldn’t make this blog political

So I won’t rap about that, cuz this bitch ain’t hypocritical

So hereby I’ll return to the aforementioned matter

About all these people peein’ and not cleanin’ EXCESS SPLATTER

When you choose your public bathroom stall, before you’ve peed or shitted

Once you turn that little lock you’re fuckin’ FULL TOILET COMMITTED

Whatever splatter’s on the seat, no matter just how insurmountable

Is left for you to clean up or you will be held accountable

So let’s say you have this guy, cleanin’ up for those before him

Cuz any droplets left behind, he’s now RESPONSIBLE FOR ‘EM

So he’s gotta make a mitt with the whole damn roll of paper

And clean up for the toilet seat’s LEGITIMATE RAPER

And though the problem may be worse than he could ever ascertain

He grits his teeth, gets to work, and never thinks to complain

And he chose that stall even though he really had a hunch

That the guy who went before him had CHIPOTLE FOR LUNCH

Any thought of backing down? This dude would certainly nix it

There is a problem in this stall and he DEVOTES HIS LIFE TO FIX IT

And still you have these folks outside always so quickly criticizing

Before he even took that stall they were politicizing

And what really blows my mind is that they even have the gall

To overlook the things he’s gotten done while locked inside that stall

In his efforts to clean up he’s saved American cars

And given healthcare to the people who have PREEXISTING SARS

And let’s say he may not always be the very best DEBATA

But he fuckin’ decimated mothafuckin’ AL-QAEDA

He let soldiers serve us proudly, whether they be straight or gay

And doesn’t plan to make amendments that would TAKE FOLKS’ RIGHTS AWAY

Still the others really think that they can clean up all that wiz

They’ve got a five-point plan to do it, but WON’T TELL YOU WHAT IT IS

But they’ll sneer and point their fingers and just never will confess

That they’re proposing the same shit that got us INTO THIS MESS

They have this puppet speaking for them and he’s sounding like a clown

Saying there will be less mess if we go back and TRICKLE DOWN?

And still they want us to believe that they could better represent

All of our bathrooms (‘CEPT FORTY-SEVEN PERCENT)

And they’re flopping back and forth on every mothafuckin’ issue

While they guy in there is down to his last square of toilet tissue

Therefore in the world of bathrooms we now have this great divide

Of those who work to clean things up and those who blame and hide

I know neither side is perfect, but at least one guy is trying

Instead of simply pandering and frankly FLAT-OUT LYING

Now just to clarify that you’re in no need of correction

I’m talkin’ about BATHROOMS here, not of no damn election

We all need our public toilets so we have to do our parts

They’re there for our emergencies and ghost poops (those are farts)

And now’s the time to exercise that very basic right

And support the ones who you best think will help us to win this fight

Any effort set to block your voice I simply do abhor

Just as much as I hate a LACKLUSTER METAPHOR

So go pull up your pants and wipe your lil’ booty

And make sure your voice is heard because now that’s what I call DUTY

That’s what this land is all about, the core of our foundation

So wipe the fuckin’ seat and let’s clean up our uriNATION

word.

2 Comments

Harvest, Bitch.

There’s a chill in the air and it’s feelin’ pretty nice

And when you go into a Starbucks yous be gettin’ pumpkin spice

So break out that padded vest, put away them seersuckers

It’s my favorite time of year, IT’S THE HARVEST MOTHAFUCKAS

Time to go jump in the leaves and time to follow me on twitter

Time to pick some apples and then eat a frickin’ fritter

And boys, it’s time you find a bitch to take under your covers

Cuz I’m telling you, you heard it here, THE HARVEST IS FOR LOVERS

And to get yourself a lady you need tips, well boys, I got ‘em

If you follow my instructions you will get some tail this autumn

The secret to make sure that you will get some harvest lovin’

It be right under your nose, right in your MOTHAFUCKIN’ OVEN

You don’t need no sexy music, you don’t need no water bed

All you need to know is how to make a PUMPKIN BREAD

Now if baking freaks you out and you normally eschew it

Don’t worry, mothafucka, I’M A TEACH YOU HOW TO DO IT

First you take a cup a sugar, cream it with a stick of butter

Give your bitch a wink and then her heart will go aflutter

Add a teaspoon of vanilla and two eggs and stir it well

(Maybe crack the eggs beforehand YOU DON’T WANT NO BITS OF SHELL)

In a different bowl add flour, like a whole cup and a half

(And verify your bitch is clean of STDs or STAPH)

Add a half teaspoon of salt and one teaspoon baking soda

And to get her in the mood just turn on Kathy Lee and Hoda

Mix all that shit together and then soon she’ll know what’s up

When to that you add some pumpkin ONE ENTIRE FUCKIN’ CUP

Now for my big secret that’ll really make her scream

To that you add a half a cup of fuckin’ SOUR CREAM

SOUR CREAM? You may ask? BITCH YOU CRAZY, MAKE NO SENSE!

But you betta believe–it makes that loaf so MOIST AND DENSE

Sour cream and pumpkin is a combo that’s climactic

It’s creamy and it’s tangy from the acid that’s all LACTIC

Now she’ll really want you but you gots to tell her “IN A MIN”

Cuz you gots to add a teaspoon of some fuckin’ cinnamon

And you make you lady wait, even though by now she’s beggin’

You need a half a teaspoon–you be gettin NUTEGGIN

And one last thing to make sure you be gettin in her hips

Stir in some fuckin’ semi-sweet CHOCOLATE FUCKIN CHIPS

Pour it in a loaf pan that you’ve parchmented or greased

Bake at 350 for an hour, brotha, YOURE A FUCKIN’ BEAST

Then go and get your freak on and a pumpkiny aroma

Will wake you up like Folgers from your Fall post-coital coma

And I promise you there’s no way that that chick was even faking

Though I cannot guarantee she didn’t use you for your your baking

And if you think baking’s girly work, best for a maid or elf

I’ve got a binder full of women telling you to fuck yourself

So go and get your bake on, don’t you think of hesitating

(This works especially well if she is fat or menstruating)

And when all is said and done you can go cuddle up beside her

And instead of cigarettes cool off with pumpkin bread and cider

word.

(recipe adapted from http://www.food.com/recipe/sour-cream-pumpkin-bread-157475)

Leave a comment

High School, Bitch.

I know you’ll be real shocked, based on just how cool I am

That in high school being popular, wasn’t quite my jam

I never smoked cigarettes, I was scared of emphysema

I didn’t drink till college when I passed out from one ZIMA

I wore Doc Martens and huge glasses cuz I couldn’t see real far

The Stephen Schwartz pic in my locker didn’t make me populer–lar

If two popular kids were talkin’ bout a wild party

I’d ask, “Lippa or LaChiusa?” and they’d think I was retardy

I didn’t re’lize to be cool it would really help to flaunt your

Assets other than your Jewish hair and your orthodonture

So I knew my only chance to be even slightly cool

Would come my sophomore of high school on our CHOIR TRIP FOOL

The only glimmer of hope throughout my dark awkward phase

Was in our choir trip to Disney WHAT UP MAGIC MUSIC DAYS

I wasn’t good at being slutty, I could never go commando

But I knew that I could make some friends when we were in Orlando

There I’d finally be free from the cruel high school brutality

And score some friends at Disney with my WINNING PERSONALITY

We’d be free to be ourselves, I thought, without drugs or booze

And I’d make friends in choir with my fellow ALTO TWOS

On our first day in Orlando, we thought we would embark

On a choir, band, and orchestra trip to a water park

A water park in Disney? My public school just wouldn’t hear it

So our rickety old bus drove to a water park NEAR IT

There were only two slides, because this place was fuckin’ janky

The water was cold and a LITTLE BIT STANKY

I thought this could be my chance to show them I was fun and clever

And we’d be BFFFFs (BEST FUCKIN’ FRIENDS FOR FUCKIN’ EVER)

So all the other kids rushed to the family raft ride

No one dared go near The Bomb, a frightening vertical slide

Then I thought to myself, I was done with high school slavery

Maybe I could win some friends with some chutzpah (Jewish bravery)

This was so outside my comfort zone, that water was contagious

But I decided it was time for me to do something courageous

So I boldly broke away and walked straight toward The Bomb

They all saw me and saluted like I was on my way to Nam

The entire group was watching me, standing at attention

As I grasped the rusty railing and I started my ascension

My heart was pounding quickly at the top of the ladder

I could feel it in my chest, and a little in my bladder

Every eye was on me, just to see me do my duty

They started chanting my name! Like I was mother fuckin’ RUDY

I lay down and crossed my arms and I laid back my head

And I said the HaMotzi, BITCH, THE JEWISH PRAYER FOR BREAD

And then I was on my way, it was rather histrionic

My life flashed before my eyes and I received my first colonic

And I finally got down to the pool at the bottom

I envisioned my new friends and the crazy way I got ‘em

I proudly stood up, overcome with such emotion

And the rest of the world started moving in slow motion

It was like a lucid dream, or whatever that thing’s called

Where there’s 80′s music and I’m  MOLLY FUCKIN’ RINGWALD

I threw my arms up in the air, I was filled with such elation

I turned to the crowd to receive my celebration

High school would be better now, with friends, and boys and kissing

But I stood there in the water and knew there was something missing

A heavy silence filled the air, you could have heard a pin drop

Soon I realized what was missing, bitch, MY MOTHAFUCKIN TOP

It was floating in the wading pool, right there in the middle

I sank down under water and I maybe peed a little

No thread of popularity ever did transpire

And now all of my bikinis, I make sure, have underwire

They missed out on a great kid, so they’re all a buncha suckers

And they sure missed out cuz now my tits are huge, mothafuckas

word.

1 Comment