Thank god for Yelp these days cause my son’s dick is looking ugly. And everyone needs to know how bad Rabbi Broccoli is at trimming flowers.
There’s not much else to say. Just don’t trust any mohels who entice you to their services with the following joke:
“I got clocks in my window and a customer comes in and asks to buy a watch, but I says we don’t sell time here and he says what do you mean? And I says: I’m a mohel I do brisses.
And he says: then why do you got clocks in your window?
And I says: what else do you want me to put in my window?”
Anyways, my son’s circumcision is a two-star job. One star and it would be too ugly to write about; three stars and it’d be decent enough, like that raised-eyebrow-look you get when ordering country gravy at a 24-hour diner. You’ll never see me write a Yelp review at four or five stars, because in that case, either it’s just shy of perfect, or it’s perfection itself. “My son’s got a beautiful dick,” I’d say, if that were the case!
But that’s not the case: two stars is just enough of a bad job for me to complain about it. It weighs on me like a five-pound dumbbell to the old woman at the gym working with resistance bands, thinking about how her daughter won’t get married to that man from Rhode Island even though he owns a yacht and cries when he watches The Notebook.
How stupid. How heavy.
You see, the mohel tickled my son with a peacock feather before he brought out the scissors. I think that was the problem. It was like a dentist showing you what kind of stickers he has just before prying out your wisdom teeth.
Alas, my son’s dick is ugly.
My response: Ellen Degeneres please give me money, I’ll marry you on live television.