I Only Roast the Ones I Love by Jeffrey Ross

Author:Jeffrey Ross [Ross, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781439101407
Published: 2014-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

“Hef, thanks for letting us jack off to pictures of women you’ve already fucked.”

—Drew Carey

“Hef has always been a sexual innovator. He was the first person to mix Viagra with prune juice. Now he doesn’t know if he’s comin’ or goin’.”

—Me

“Let’s face it, the only way Hugh Hefner can get stiff is through rigor mortis—you white motherfuckers!”

—Gilbert Gottfried

A ROASTMASTER SHALL NOT WEAR FLIP-FLOPS

THERE IS NOTHING MORE DISGUSTING than men’s feet. I don’t want to smell them. I don’t want to touch them. And I sure as shoeshine don’t want to look at them—especially while I’m performing.

Modern-day Roastmasters certainly don’t need to roll around town wearing tuxedos like the Rat Pack once did—but they shouldn’t be showing up places with their bunions, hangnails, hammertoes, blisters, fungus, and sickening black toenails fully exposed for our viewing displeasure. In fact, any fully grown man wearing flip-flops out in public during evening hours should be slapped and given a pair of socks. I don’t care how nice you think your toes are, they are disgusting to other people. Plus, wearing flip-flops out at night is like saying to your buddies, “Hey, if anybody messes with us tonight, I’m not fighting. Sorry, but I just don’t have the proper ankle support to throw down. You guys hug it out with these Crips while I flippity-flop the fuck home.” So the next time you see a dude wearing flip-flops on a Saturday night, wink at his girlfriend. Unless he’s a black belt in karate or carrying a gun, there ain’t a damn thing he’s gonna do about it.

Of course, the complete opposite is true for women. Men love seeing women’s feet and I myself have often wondered if I don’t have some sort of fetish. In fact, if given the chance to smooch my girlfriend on the body part of my choosing, I’ll usually pick those ten little piggies. I especially like pink nail polish. No doubt such disclosures will come back to haunt me if I am ever the subject of a roast.

But that might not happen for a long time. After all, roasts are rare and special occasions. Therefore, I always encourage participants to break out their most royal duds. Since these events are usually associated with vulgarities and debauchery, I feel it is a Roastmaster’s duty to class up the joint.

MY DAD LOOKING SHARP AS ALWAYS.

When I heard Comedy Central was roasting rap legend and reality star Flavor Flav, I knew I had to do something special with my wardrobe. My dad always dressed to impress. He felt it was important to show his brides and grooms at the catering hall that he cared about their parties as much as they did. I think the same principle applies to show business. If the performer doesn’t care about the show, why should the audience?

Clearly I couldn’t roast someone as outlandish as Flavor Flav wearing tired attire. I had to represent for my old high school pals back in Jersey, who were all big Public Enemy fans back in the day.

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