Last weekend I did a show hosted by Joe Horan called Horan’s House Party. He used to call it something else, but some group of corporate comedy scumbags threatened to sue. Suing a comic is like pissing into a hurricane; save your battles douchebags. Suing a comic is one step away from bringing class action against panhandlers.
The show was fun – marketed as comedy meets drinking game. The audience had to drink when the comics said certain words or topics. Drinking games usually go one of two ways – the people that are all in drink no matter what and other people play for about six seconds and quit. The crowd was game though. Luckily, the comics’ participation was much more limited; I’d rather not drive into the side of the Horseshoe in my upper 30’s.
I did however have to shotgun a beer with a crowd member before my set. Nothing says get ready for laughy fun times like hammering down a room temperature PBR (the show’s sponsor – thanks team Pabst). I destroyed my competition. Still got it, everyone! …and by it, I mean a drinking problem. This was the exchange after. “Did you teach your daughter that skill?” “No, babies can’t shotgun breastmilk very well.” “True, you can’t shotgun breastmilk.” “I said babies can’t, not me!” There was much laughter and I did my set stuck to the floor of the biohazard known as a house full of college guys. It went well, but I have been in quarantine for four days. I should be able to reconnect with my family once I get CDC clearance on the battery of communicable disease tests I took over the weekend. Wish me luck!