I'm a failure. I am a college graduate who waits tables at a restaurant as I barely support myself doing my stand-up comedy pipe dream. That being said, I wrote some roast jokes about people I work with today.

Henrietta is a former drug addict. Give it up for her for quitting drugs. If only she were a former corner-me-and-tell-me-her-life-story-for-the-fifth-time addict.

Kyle is so gay, his mother was Rip Taylor and his father was the confetti.

Terry walks with a limp because he was shot by a big game hunter who thought that he was a hippopotamus who had just emerged from a swamp.

Hey look! Frank is sweating. I bet your customers love seeing that. I can't tell if he's actually sweating all the time or if he's being constantly marinated for a rotisserie.

Has Brandon told you guys what happened on last night's South Park yet?

Rich is here, everyone. And stupid. Having a conversation with Rich is like playing soccer with
Antonio's corpse. What? You're groaning? He died two years ago, people. It was a DUI. His fault.

And Jesus, doesn't Stephan suck at his job, everybody? Stephan's killed more plates than Antonio has killed families of four with his Chevy Blazer. COME ON, PEOPLE.

Look at Bethany over there, surrounded by dudes. Surprising. Bethany has fucked more waiters than the tip calculator on an 80-year-old's cell phone.

Hey, Rhonda's in a bad mood today. How about that. I'd be in a bad mood, too, if I were 38 with a Master's degree and a crippling prescription drug addiction.

I want to go on the record by saying I would set every girl I've ever had sex with on fire to get to fuck Melanie. Yes, including Claire. And Gwen.

Not only does David look like Peter Lorre, they're both actors who will never be cast in a movie this century.

I've heard Brent say that, "college wasn't for me." Apparently, neither is toothpaste. Or elocution.

Hey, Phil's here, everybody. Give it up for Phil. Isn't he a terrible boss? Isn't he a complete miserable failure? Phil, everybody. The only way I could be more disappointed in Phil is if I were his twelve year old son.

Danny is here. He hits on every girl who walks in the restaurant who looks old enough to have a learner's permit but not quite old enough to get life in prison for murder.

Amanda's back in community college. I really think it's going to work out for her this time, you guys.

Jim and Allison are together. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's either infuriating or demoralizing. Allison, if he fucks you like he waits tables, then expect the entree to come out cold and don't ask for any refills because he'll be too busy playing Bejeweled on his Cricket phone.

It was nice for the cooks to bring us out some lasagna for the roast. Oh wait, that's just Donna's inner thighs.

I can never decide if Brenda wears too much make-up or not nearly enough.

I would really like to see Justin dead. I would just really like for him to be dead.

I want to get off stage by saying I don't hate anyone who works here. You're all very nice people. I mostly just hate my life. And myself. Thank you.