Veteran comedian Sean Rouse is criminally underappreciated. And I don’t use the word “criminal” just because he has been known to spend a significant portion of his time on stage joking about pedophilia.
If you like your comedy to make you feel horrible inside for laughing, Rouse is your savior. He’s obscene. He’s over the top. And he’ll return to Liquid Laughs, 405 S. Idaho St., for headlining performances Thursday through Sunday.
“Sean Rouse often stops talking during his routine,” I once wrote after seeing his twisted act. “He fills these lulls by staring blank-faced at the tittering audience, giving the distinct, unnerving feeling that:
a) he’s forgotten his joke;
b) he’s drastically misunderstood the term “comedic timing”;
c) he’s completely lost his mind and the room should be evacuated before he begins semi-automatic weapon show-and-tell.
WARNING: LEWD HUMOR AND PROFANITY (Do not watch this video, Grandma!)
On a comedy circuit filled with mammoth smiles and buckets o’ one-liners, the slender, pale Rouse oozes comedy like a slow, “incurable disease that systematically breaks down the body, then radically disfigures it and slowly eats away the internal organs over a long period of time.”
That’s Rouse’s own description — but not of his routine. He’s describing rheumatoid arthritis, an affliction that makes his day-to-day existence painfully unfunny. It’s probably this contradiction between his personal and professional life that sparks his black, sarcastic sense of humor. The Texas-raised comic is one of the most warped acts on the circuit.”
▪ 8 and 10 p.m., $10 and $12, liquidlaughs.com.