When someone survives three rare, life-threatening illnesses in the span of a few months, most people send flowers or write a heartfelt card.
We threw a roast.
On April 20th (because of course ChadO would survive just in time for 4/20), a crew of Austin’s finest degenerates and comedy friends gathered at Shakespeare’s to celebrate the fact that he’s still alive and still somehow funnier than all of us. We packed the upstairs with comics, friends, family, and that one guy who never actually performs but always wants guest list access.
Watch the chaos unfold here:
🎥 Roast Clip on YouTube
Roasting is one of the oldest comedy rituals we have. It’s not just about getting laughs. It’s about honoring someone the only way comics know how—by absolutely destroying them. It’s a strange love language, a form of celebration wrapped in savage jokes. You roast people you respect, and Chad’s been earning that kind of respect for years.
This roast hit different.
It wasn’t on a network stage or in a TV studio.
It was in our playground. Our scene. Our home.
Everyone who got on the mic was part of ChadO’s world—comics who’ve stood beside him at open mics, underground showcases, backyard gigs, and all around town. They’ve seen him crush, bomb, and crawl through both.
It was unfiltered, unscripted, and totally personal.
We made fun of everything—his survival, his hair, his marriage, his jokes, and the fact that his doctors keep looking at his chart like it’s a riddle wrapped in a punchline. And he loved every second of it.
Because that’s what roasts do. They take pain and flip it.
They remind us that laughter has always been the real medicine.
We’re not saying Chad’s out of the woods, or that this was some fairytale recovery story. But for one night, surrounded by his crew, on a stage he helped build, he got to feel all the love—disguised as insults, of course.
Here’s to more nights like that.
