Those in-the-know are already hip to the fact that comedy is the new indie rock¹. Which, now that I think about it, is probably why they were turning people away at the door @ last night’s re-introduction of the famed Ritalin Readings series. Emceed by the impossibly apple-cheeked Lindsay Lindsayism and the dreamy Gawker pinup Worker #3116, the show successfully accomplished its stated goal of providing bite-sized morsels of high-grade entertainment goodness for the short attention span set. That is to say, it was fun, not boring.

Despite the fact that not a single one of last night’s performers stuck to the 4-minute rule that was supposed to govern the evening’s preceedings, each of the readers managed to make the most of their extra time by maintaining an admirable laugh:minute ratio. Personal faves included sets by Heather Lawless (her confessional delivery style manages to trigger both awkwardness and laughter from her audience), Jon Friedman (highest laugh:minute ratio of the bunch) and These Modern Socks (in which old school FOW Matt Tobey and Darci Kittenpants traded off-kilter “Yo Momma” jokes). All in all, good times were had by all. With one notable exception, that is.

You see, the Official Ritalin Readings After-Party was held in the bar immediately adjacent to the “performance” room. After having succesfully outmanuevered a surprisingly douche-y Vincent Victor Garber for position at the bar, your Uncle Grambo tossed back a few celebratory root beers with the crew. Everyone seemed to be having a good time when, all of a sudden, there was a Close Encounter Of The Durst Kind with some Z-List TV D-Bags who somehow managed to usurp OUR reign over the bar. But rather than retell a tale that Gabe has already exquisitely recanted, your Uncle Grambo will throw out a few selected pics from the evening … after the jump. Natch.

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