In honor of the anniversary of Star Wars coming out probably like 10 or so years ago (right?) I’m drinking beer from a glass I drank gallons of Kool Aid from as a kid.

My brother Jon turned 30 on Friday. He decided to have a comedy party, which is where everyone would have to do stand-up, roast him, sing a funny song, or tell a story. It’s a fun idea for a party. One person joked that it was narcissistic to have a party where everyone was forced to talk about you the whole time. But I think everyone eagerly awaits the moment when someone asks/forces them to do something they’ve always secretly wanted to do. Everyone came prepared. Everyone was funny–although it was a pretty forgiving audience since everyone knew they’d have to take the stage too.

I decided to do my routine based on the fact that Jon is a teacher (we filmed The Waiting List in his first grade classroom) and that he tells a lot of terrible jokes in class. What if those jokes were like Grimm’s fairy tales, where there’s a dark, sinister original version and then a cleaned up version to tell kids. I told the same jokes he tells students, but with darker punchlines.

I chickened out on the punchline to the banana joke. It involved guns and a mistakenly shot orange. Also, I should have just used the punchline “Orange you glad it’s Jon’s birthday.” I was nervous.

For my Secret Santa wish list at work, I requested “your best drawing of Santa and/or Zooey Deschanel.” Thank you Secret Santa!

I’m sorry.