Brent Weinbach


Brent Weinbach does not laugh at his jokes. In fact, you might not, either. In a steely deadpan, he delivers stories that derive their humor from the narrative and from Weinbach's ability to say things in the most clinical way without so much as smiling. For example, he tells the story of needing to use the restroom while on a long car ride with his sister and grandmother: "An hour later I needed to defecate. Fifteen minutes later, I needed to defecate real bad. I was left with one option: a plastic bag from a grocery store. With my pants pulled down, including my underwear, and my sister helping me hold the plastic bag under my buttocks, about to let loose my masterpiece, my grandmother all of a sudden yells out, 'Wait! That's a good bag! Don't waste it!' But I couldn't wait, and my rectum began to widen." It's humor that's more than a little awkward at times, but if told with crude language and emotion, it would be far less funny.
Nov. 18-22, 8 p.m.; Nov. 21-22, 10:30 p.m., 2008

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