“I got water in my phone because I dropped it in a toilet, right after the shrooms kicked in.” These are the words of people who refer to unpaid art projects as “careers” (e.g. my friends). Conversely, “I got salt water in my phone while camping on a beach in Kuala Lumpur” are the words of today’s Party Review subjects who had gathered to watch a live awards ceremony.

“What do you do?” asked one guest.

“I tell jokes in bars at people wanting to have a quiet evening with their Tinder date, in exchange for straight shots of well whiskey. How about you?”

“I just finished designing and constructing the custom furniture for an international start-up.”

“I see we have similar career paths.”

The stage was set for an evening in which I’d learn there are more varieties of wine than “the cheapest red” and “the white one that doesn’t make me puke (as much).”

“You’re a comedian? I guess it’s important for you to keep up with pop culture, since that’s what audiences want to hear,” asserted another guest.

It was unclear if he was trying to be relatable (something with which I don’t generally concern myself), or was familiar with my comedy and writing, and meant this as a snarky quip. In either case, I think my answer applied.

“I guess that’s what I’ve been doing wrong this whole time.”

That seemed as good a cue as any to take a break from people to bond with Otis, an especially enthusiastic terrier mutt. It was obvious he was only interested in what I was eating, but at least that meant we were on the same page. Other things Otis and I had in common included shaking our butts when excited and a general frustration with humans, who, from a dog’s perspective, must be the dumbest animals alive. I mean, a happy dog comes along, jumping and barking, and the humans stare at an illuminated box rather than play and sniff butts. Dumb.

Broadcast award ceremonies are odd to me, as I see no reason for working class people to invest so much time watching the rich flaunt their riches and, given advertising dollars, becoming even richer, so they can more comfortably live the lives we never will. Although, the focus of my fellow guests seemed to be explaining how they personally knew the various celebrities. So great was their investment, that our host attempted to fast-forward live television, looking for an old college friend, which strikes me as the perfect commentary on the trajectory of our civilization.

“Life is dull. Can we skip ahead to the apocalypse?”

THEN AMY ARRIVED! For some reason, this was exciting. So, hoping to follow the appropriate social cues, I exclaimed, “THIS IS EXCITING!” Nailed it. Our host even threw me a high five. Forgetting what I was holding, I threw a fistful of Good & Plentys. No one seemed to notice. Success!

Score: 7 out of 10