The Jap Rapper is BACK! With a BABY!

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Valentine’s Day, Bitch.

YO it’s fuckin’ February I ain’t Punxsutawney Phillin’

6 more weeks of winter, bitch, that groundhog he BE ILLIN’

(I be illin’ too, so you ain’t hearin’ my inflection

I got a–WHAT WHAT–RESPIRATORY INFECTION)

AND all this homophobia–it gets me all emoshi

So I cannot watch The Bachelor or STRAIGHT PEOPLE IN SOCHI

This ain’t no time for hatred, go and coz beneath your covers

Cuz it’s Februrary, bitch, and it’s for MOTHER FUCKIN’ LOVERS

It’s the time to get real lucky (like with peens or like, vagines)

Cuz it’s fuckin’ mother fuckin’ FRIGGIN FUCKIN’ VALENTINE’S READ MO, YO!

Yo yo yo bitch welcome to my turf

It’s the greatest time of year

IN THE GREATEST PLACE ON EARF

Let’s all raise a glass, clap your hands, and shake a titty

IT’S NEW YEAR’S FUCKIN’ EVE right here in NEW YORK FUCKIN CITAAYYY READ MO, YO!

10

It’s summer and you think I’m gonna rap ’bout somethin’ lotional

Today’s a little different, y’all, forgive me if I’m ‘motional

Let’s take a little breather, slow it down and maybe park it

Put away your kale from your co-op hipster market

Let’s gather like it’s Pesach, all my sisters and my brothers

While I tell you why this night is so much DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHERS

So let’s all listen up, just relax or take a pill

And I’ll tell y’all the story cuz this shit ’bout to get RIL

Ten years ago today, in his junior year of college

Was a Jewey little pre-med who was fillin’ up with knowledge

(And frat parties and beer, but like, he was young and bonery

and KINDA maybe KINDA SORTA just a LITTLE stonery)

And while the other kids at Michigan sang “Hail to the VIC”

He was singin, “HAELLL, you guys, I feel kinda SICK”

He went and got some blood tests and was soon faced with the answer

And headed to the hospital with motherfucking cancer

When you go off to college, you might worry ’bout bulimia

And OBVIOUSLY herpes, but for real y’all, LEUKEMIA?

He did chemo, radiation, and the outcome still looked narrow

The kid needed a transplant of like, ALL of his bone marrow

He comes from this great family, they’re there for one another

And luckily he found a match in his little brother

(On a side note, join the donor list, PREACH THAT, Doctor Oz,

It’s tough to match minorities like blacks and ASHKENAZ)

In the midst of this he met a girl, which might sound real alarming

He may have been all bald and sick but WORKED it, and was charming

They chatted on IM (You remember that? I’m old…)

And she was super awesome, or like, that’s what I am told

They counted down his quarantine, the hurdles and the hoops

Their first kiss sent him to the hospital–can I get an OOPS?

So she asked him how long it would be till he’s out of the wood?

And he said 10 years post-transplant would be like, REALLY REALLY good

Ten years seemed like forever, so they just went on with life

They finished school, started careers, and then the girl became his wife

If you measure life in love LIKE RENT, then they had lots of wealth

And were thankful every day, for each other, and their health

And the boy became a cancer doc, yea, that deserves some clapping

The girl became an actress and she dabbles in Jew rapping

And though you can’t say ten whole years ever goes by fast

The day they waited for so long is finally here at last

I’m jappy rappy, never sappy, but these years have been a whirl

I’m so grateful for this guy, and I’m so lucky I’m his girl

If the cheesiness ain’t too much yet, well, now I’m ’bout to ruin it

Know where he’s at work today? The bone marrow transplant unit

He says fate can gently guide you, but sometimes it’s a firm push

And he’s one hell of a doctor, and has one hell of a tush

I try not to rap too personal, I usually berate it

But when life gives you a gift like this, you have to celebrate it

Life is full of ups and downs, it comes with hope and doubt

And there’s times when you should have your cake and blow your candles out

Happy 10 years, my sweet love, you took cancer and you beat it

Today’s the day you’ll have your cake and motherfuckin’ eat it

So let’s all celebrate today, even just a sliver

Cuz I have got a cake I’ve waited ten years to deliver

word.

Post Wedding 3_2_2

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

Trust, Bitch.

Yo sometimes I leave town when I’m doin’ a show

And bitch, I miss my husband like, more than you know

Without me he’s so sad, he’s prob’ly home singin’ a ballad

And crying lonely tears into our FAVORITE TACO SALAD

And he’ll be sitting there confused and really feeling a loss

Cuz I’m the one who always orders extra SPICY YELLOW SAUCE

What if he’s so lonely he just takes up Dianetics?

I’m a worrier, bitch, THANK YOU JEWISH GENETICS

But I don’t worry ’bout him cheating, he’s too good to scratch that itch

And I hung posters ’round Manhattan warning I WILL CHOKE A BITCH

So all them ladies in New York know that they BETTA stay real far

Yeah, they know it like they know Dan Smith will TEACH THEM THE GUITAR

And though I’m doin’ MY thang, I just can’t seem to forget

All my worries that his needs aren’t bein’ mothafuckin’ MET

So the other day I’m worryin’ that he’s at home unstable

When my phone rings with an email from our friends at OPENTABLE

If you don’t use OpenTable, then yous GOTSTA be insane

Bitch, we NEED our reservations, we ain’t ANTHONY BOURDAIN

And the emails come to me, not because I am imperious

We’re just Jewish and we take our OpenTable points FOR SERIOUS

“Table for 2, Friday night,” a confirmation

With an email like that, one might resort to castration

(For me, it put an end to my past week of constipation)

And then my email rings AGAIN! Who’s it from? Bitch, are you curious?

Fandango.com! Two seats for FAST and FUCKIN’ FURIOUS

And fast and furious was I, all my trust flew out the door

My heart goes racing wildly, I’m gonna kill this whore

My hands shook as I dialed, cuz the news kinda impaled me

But it only rang through twice–OH NO HE DIN-UNT—HE VOICEMAILED ME!

So I sent that boy a text like, “MOTHERFUCKER–WHERE YOU ARE??”

Typing…Typing…he’s like, “DYLAN’S mothafuckin’ CANDY BAR!”

And my anger turned to sadness, this shit REALLY hurt my fillins

That’s our very special thing–PRE-MOVIE mothafuckin’ DYLAN’S

He knows the mix I like: gummies bottom, chocolate middle,

Topped with TONS of sour shit, and like, ONE Sour Skittle

He knows that once I dig in, I just giggle like I’m tickerish

When the perfect ‘mout of sour gets on that AUSTRALIAN LICORICE

And basically, he knows that when he makes that mix of candy

There’s 100% success rate that he’ll prolly get a handy

Just right then phone rang, it was him and I was seething

But I calmly said hello and I practiced LAMAZE BREATHING

(NO, Mom…no)

“Whatcha doin’ tonight?” He’s like, “A movie and a drinkler”

“OH YEAH??” “WITH WHOM? ” He’s says, “With FUCKIN’ Jason FUCKIN’ Finkler”*

 (*not exactly a direct quote I don’t think)

(AND BITCH, you BETTA know your WHO from WHOM–sorry for the pause,

BUT YOU GOTSTA KNOW use WHOM when it’s the OBJECT OF A CLAUSE)

“JASON FINKLER??” I said, and I felt like such a sucker

“JASON FINKLER!” he says, “IT’S A MAN DATE, MOTHER FUCKER”*

(*again, not like 100% sure that was the exact quote)

“Fandango and Dylans?” I say, “Those are OUR routines!”

He’s like, “I changed the mix cuz Jason really likes his JELLY BEANS”

“Did you get two separate bags?” He’s all, “No–we’re gonna share”

“We’ll just put it on the armrest of the MOTHAFUCKIN’ chair”

“And OpenTable for a man date? Dudes just go to burger joints!”

He’s like, “Baby, I am serious ABOUT MY FUCKIN’ POINTS”*

(*actually this may have been a direct quote)

So I told him, “Go have fun with Jason Finkler on your date”

“And call me when it’s over, and Aar–don’t stay out too late”

I then put down my phone, so ashamed I freaked and fussed

When I know I married my best friend, whoM I can always trust

And really, was I worried that someone would date and kiss him?

Nah–truth is when I’m gone, I simply really fuckin’ miss him

And while I’m here it’s nice to know he’s taken care of by good friends

And Finkler, if you cared, perhaps some nookie when it ends

Jason, I’m just kidding you, you know I like to joke ya

(Cuz Finkler if you did, you saw the signs, I’D FUCKIN’ CHOKE YA)

And Fast and Furious? I’d NEVER, even if you paid me MILLINS

(Or I’d see it for a handy and two pounds from fuckin’ Dylan’s)

word.

222814_904360891545_1280311_n(Names have been changed to protect the totally innocent Jordan fuckin’ Finkler)

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.

My Birthday, Bitch.

Yo–I had a special day, y’all–don’t just sit there i-dl-y

Bitch, it ain’t no mystery, I made it nice and title-y

So don a little hat, have a lollipop or sucker

Cuz just the other day it was my BIRTHDAY MOTHER FUCKER

And as always on my birthday, while I softly celebrate it

I’ll tell you all a secret–well, I kinda fuckin’ hate it

This all dates back to when I was a tiny little Jew

The night was New Years Eve NINETEEN FUCKING NINETY-TWO

My parents had big plans to go out with their friends to dinner

And I was sure to make this New Years Eve a fuckin’ winner

My dad took me to Blockbuster and rented me The Witches

We picked up the babysitter IT’S A SLUMBER PARTY BITCHES

I cut up all my Tiger Beats, made three bowls of confetti

And defrosted some pierogies BITCH THEY’RE BETTER THAN SPAGHETTI

I then called up every single girl in my fuckin’ class

“I gots pierogies and The Witches –ANJIE HUSTON KICKS SOME ASS”

My parents overheard this and just rolled their eyes in shame

And prolly weren’t surprised at all when just one person came

But she was TOTES MY BFF, so I didn’t mind a bit

And she brought me sparkling cider MARTINELLI’S IS THE SHIT

She didn’t want to watch The Witches, but that was our only clash

(If she don’t like Ms. Huston’s work in that, I HOPE SHE DON’T WATCH SMASH)

We danced with hats necklaces that glowed up in the dark

Like a two-person Bar Mitzvah for our dear old love, DICK CLARK

We had more cider and more candy than quite possibly could feed us

A night like this I think gave Wilford Brimley diabeetus

As the clock ticked down to twelve we were screaming and a-hopping

(We hadn’t learned ’bout balls, or I’d have joked about them dropping)

We counted down to one and I sent confetti flying

As it fell I looked down at my friend, and she just started crying

“OMG What’s wrong??” I ran right up to her and asked

She said to me through teary eyes, “Time just goes by so fast”

In poor form, I popped a popper (it was begging me to pop it)

She cried, “The years go by so fast and really nobody can stop it”

I stopped through falling streamers and I let her words just chill me

“I gotsta dustbust this confetti or my mom is gonna kill me”

We cried through the whole night, gravely questioning our fate

(I should probably mention here that we were motherfuckin’ EIGHT)

We still joke about that night, our thoughts at eight were so severe

But I go right back to that place ’round my birthday every year

I get scared when I see birthday cake and even some gift wrappin’

And for some reason on my birthday week, awful things just happen

Throughout much of history, that week is hella shitty

It was the week of Columbine and Oklahoma City,

The San Francisco earthquake and the siege at Waco, Texas

One year that week I backed my car into my neighbor’s Lexus

The Titanic hit an iceberg, Jack and Rosie started sinkin’

‘Twas a bad week at the theatre for President Abe Lincoln

That week the BP oil rig exploded in the Gulf

Mrs. Hitler had a baby and she named him fuckin ‘dolf

The Revolutionary War began, shots at Virginia Tech

All occurred my birthday week, and it’s like WHAT THE HECK?

The only good part ’bout my day is it’s Tim Curry’s birthday too

Without whom there’s no Frank-N-Furter, Home Alone, or CLUE

I try to see the good in things, we Jews don’t do the devil

But this year brought my birthday week down to a whole new level

Last week our dear ol’ country needed somebody to spare her

From hatred and from politics, from tragedy and from terror

Each day seemed to get worse than I ever thought it could

But through all the loads of evil, we saw ten times that much good

The goodness that came trough in itself was redefining

We saw new depths of darkness, but the brightest silver lining

We help each other run again, and carry those who fall

To be reminded of such goodness was the greatest gift of all

(Well, on the subject of great gifts my husband did get me a banjo

So to him I give my thanks and very possibly a hand-jo)

Now I think back on that New Years and my tiny worried self

And I think it’s time I take those fears and place them on the shelf

If we let our anxieties cripple and confound us

We miss out on the beauty that is right there all around us

I’m not sure what next year will bring, but I can guarantee

That I’ll be smiling on my birthday, with a banjo on my knee

And I hope you too will celebrate the good amidst the fury

And don’t do it for me, of course, but do it for Tim Curry

word.