Over a week and a half ago I had a comedy roast for my 30th birthday. Only now can I speak about the horror. Until now, the wounds were just too fresh and just thinking about the roast had me cowering in the corner, rocking back and forth. I have had extensive therapy for PTSD and am now a productive member of society again and I am ready to share with you!
Really, the whole reason I had a comedy roast is because it gave me a chance to be the center of attention, and because I am nearly impossible to offend. I also knew that my friends were wickedly funny, and that I provided them with a wealth of material. Some of my friends are still roasting me to this day, it’s as if I opened a door for them to make fun of me every day. Little did they know, that door was already open. Unfortunately, time and an incredible amount of alcohol consumed that evening have wiped away some of my memories. But never fear, my wonderful friend Jason, dog sitter, writer, and photographer extraordinaire was on hand to photograph the entire affair. He is a great photographer and is available for all of your photography nee-ee-eeds! Caution, if you don’t want to see gratuitous pictures of me laughing or are easily offended, turn back now.
I knew there were going to be a lot of jokes about my butt crack and my boobs. When I was getting dressed I had to decide whether I wanted to wear a shirt that obscured my spare tire, or showed off my boobs. I of course chose the latter. I was late to my own roast of course because that’s how I roll, but that’s okay because everyone was wary of going first. No one was drunk yet and it was still sunny out. It’s hard to insult someone to their face in broad daylight. Luckily Chad stepped up to MC, and introduced my jerky friend Jeff, who actually had some jokes written up. He took some jabs at my extreme hirsuteness and had en enormous number of jokes about the size of my infant son’s penis. After much prodding Jeff gave me his notes from the roast and though they were mostly indecipherable, I was able to cull a few of them from the chicken scratch:
Letty posted a pic online of her and Chad meeting Rufus Wainwright. What the fuck happened to you? It looks like y’all fell from the adorable tree and hit every branch on the way down until you become the homely hipster hobbits you see today. Apparently Letty gained 30 pounds and Chad ate a drifter, but hey.
I met Letty and Bridget at kickball, try to imagine a biracial Laurel & Hardy, but Laurel is a whore and Hardy’s a squat Mexican with the eyebrows of an old Jewish man.
Most hot girls keep a chunky/homely friend around to make them look better by comparison. Bridget and Letty took great pleasure in keeping us on our toes wondering which was which.
Believe me, it was funny. Below are my reactions to his jokes.
Bemused
Meh.
Nailed it.
Chad did an excellent job as MC and kept things moving a long smoothly along with telling embarrassing stories about me.
Next up was Lola, and she was an absolute pro. She was so smooth with her delivery and really hilarious. I am proud that she is my writing partner on our upcoming parenting/humor blog Contractually Obligated (coming soon!). Her set ended with her giving me my Planned Parenthood punch card back. I love her.
Lola is a like a female Don Rickles
My faux brother and bandmate Vinh told a story about how I got shwasted during an intermission at the first big wedding our band ever played. The last song we played was “Shout” and in my intoxicated state I got really into my vocal performance and rolled around on the ground and flashed everybody. He claims I wasn’t wearing underpants, but I was. Leopard print ones.
NOW WAAAAAAIT A MINUTE!
Other wonderfully rude friends took jabs and me and told embarrassing stories but perhaps the cream of the crop was my good friend, genius, and band mate Allison, who wrote a series of haikus about me.
This girl is a true poet.
I am proud to share some them with you.
“Racist Mexican Jokes“
Letty, Your friends tell
Racist Mexican Jokes, but
I am not so crude.
But honestly though
This is the only place where
I’d wear lip liner
“Letty’s Husband Chad is so old“
Letty’s husband Chad
He is so old he sits down
To pee…on his wife.
“A Tip for When Letty and Chad Invite you Over for Drinks”
Friends over for drinks?
Just make sure she rinses the
Mayo jars real good.
“Letty’s buttcrack wins an Award”
Austin Chronicle:
“The Best Place to Find Free Coke”
That’s Letty’s Buttcrack
“Letty Loves Cheap Wine”
Letty is lovely
Like a young brown mare prancing
in the Arbor Mist
That Stinky Smell
What is that foul smell?
You thought I’d say Letty’s snatch
Nope, I just farted.
Letty’s Favorite Word
Letty loves the word
Boner boner boner bo
ner Boner Boner
And my personal favorite:
A Discussion in the Marketing Department at the Corn Dog Factory
Praise the Lord Jesus
Our prayers have been answered
Demographic found.
She murdered me.
Needless to say I had a great time. I wish I could remember more! My favorite part of the entire evening, other than getting completely ravaged by my friends, was just having all my different social circles in one place together. I had my band friends, my kickball friends, my trivia friends, and my theatre friends all here to make fun of me! I am truly happy to have such rude, crude friends. When it was my turn to get up and talk I was too inebriated to make any good jokes and only managed to take a jab at the proprietor of the bar, Tim, who generously let us use his back patio for the affair. I compared him to Sam Malone from Cheers, but without all the sex appeal. BADUCHING!
I know roasts aren’t for everyone, but I loved it and I love my friends. I thank them all for coming out. I made me feel good to feel so bad. 
Obviously upset.
Also this happened:
Get it girl.
Not pictured: The ONE and ONLY joke that I was courageous enough to make. I left to get food and came back and everyone else had gone and I was nervous but I gathered up the courage to tell a joke about Letty’s “giant, gaping pussy” that I think went over pretty well. This was a great evening.
I’m glad you inherited my friends and they are your friends now too.
Those were leopard print?!? I just thought they were scars leftover from a really bad herpes breakout.
OHHH YOU! ::shakes fist::
I read the title too quickly and accidentally read it as; ” A million years later…, my Pot Roast”. My first thought was; “That’s too long to cook a pot roast, but whatever.”. Then, my second thought after that first thought I had was this next one; that I was going to read some scintillating tale about your forays into the culinary arts. Instead! IN-STEAD! I get this.This delightful little piece of literary genius. All I can say is I’m happy there were pictures to ease my pain and that your friends all appear to be good looking young people. Most of them.
I wish I had pot roast, but I will just have to settle for having attractive friends. You take what you can get, I suppose.
I specialize in pot roast, it is my favorite. I will make it for you. Both of you. Then I will insult you.
Hey, is Vinh Vietnamese? If so, it would be much funnier if you referred to him as your “pho” brother instead of “faux” brother.
You win.
[...] may be a bit too dramatic for some of our more sensitive guests, so taking a cue from my recent birthday, in order to add some levity, a comedy roast is a definite must. Here are a few zingers to get [...]
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