Kazeem Famuyide recalls the exact moment, during his birthday party at Katra Lounge on the Lower East Side last March, when he suddenly regretted inviting 300 of his nearest and dearest — plus, a new girlfriend — to watch him squirm as his friends laced into him.
“I told them not to hold back,” recalls the 27-year-old music journalist from Harlem. “That was before they ran a montage with 10 of my ex-girlfriends against the backdrop of the Jay Z song ‘Girls, Girls, Girls.’ ”
This was no random act of bros goofing around.
It was an organized comedy roast, complete with stage, podium, mike, alcohol and two hours of cringe-inducing jabs — all at Famuyide’s expense.
“It’s one of those things that if you are mentally prepared for it, it’s going to be really fun because it’s all done out of love,” says the self-professed rabble-rouser. “I always believed that my birthday should be more of a good time for everyone else and not just me, and nothing exemplifies that like a roast.”
The perfect gift for the person who has everything?
A dose of humiliation.
Take-down toasts are everywhere — from a recent skit on “Inside Amy Schumer,” in which a dying child is roasted as his Make- A-Wish, to Lena Dunham’s big-time barb against frenemy Howard Stern during his 60th birthday roast at Hammerstein Ballroom in January.
Now, regular joes are getting in on the act.
Blame the wildly popular Comedy Central specials that have gained a cult following over the past 15 years. Eighteen roasts later, the shows now have an active hive of viewership and social media engagement, with 2011’s Charlie Sheen roast drawing 10 million viewers.
“I’m a huge fan of Comedy Central roasts,” says Ryan Brammen, a 27-year-old banker, who hosted a birthday roast for himself in his Brooklyn Heights bachelor pad last year. “I gave my friends about a month to come up with material and it turned out to be the funniest night of my life — it’s about you, and you get everything.
“After the alcohol started flowing, they all loosened up,” he says, referring to far-flung friends from Hong Kong, Vienna and London — who all delivered biting speeches or sent scandalous videos aimed at destroying their pal.
A favorite target? The birthday boy’s luck — or lack thereof — with the ladies.
“Everybody should at least go through it once, just to see what their limits are,” Brammen encourages.
While some simply enlist their friends, others hire professionals to write material and even to MC.
Mike Fine, a comedian who regularly writes jokes for Friars Club roasts, charges a minimum of a $1,000 to host an event, which involves extensive interviewing of the roastee’s family and friends, in addition to writing material and performing.
He now fields dozens of requests for his services annually — a tenfold increase from just a few years ago.
He was recently hired by Sol Auerbach for his 29th birthday celebration earlier this month.
“I love it when comedians onstage pick on me, there’s no greater feeling of euphoria,” says Auerbach. “I go to the clubs every chance I get and plant myself in the front row, hoping the comedians will make fun of me.”
Auerbach insisted no topic be off-limits for his roast, held at his Upper West Side apartment with about a dozen close friends.
“I work in a funeral home with dead bodies all day, but I’m an aspiring comedian and rapper — my life is comedy gold,” says the Teflon-tough birthday boy.
But those with thin skins might want to find a less novel way to celebrate, Fine warns.
“People don’t realize there’s an art and a skill to be able to tell someone to go f–k themselves in a way that they’ll appreciate.”
When Fine was hired as roast-master for a Sweet 16 last year, the birthday girl quickly dissolved into a puddle of tears after she was caught in the cross hairs of her unhappily married parents’ mudslinging.
And then there was the time he was hired to personally excoriate a 90-year-old: “The guy’s one foot in the grave, and they want me to mention his mistresses and creative accounting.”
Those types of barbs are better delivered by a close buddy: “The roast becomes more endearing when the roaster who makes zingers actually knows you,” says Fine.
And while roasts in which the “victim” organizes his own demise are certainly safer, the surprise birthday roast is also growing in popularity.
Yoel Najer, a 30-year-old who works in p.r., feted his close friend with a 30th birthday roast in January in front of 150 guests in the ballroom of a downtown hotel. The roastee had no idea the slander session was coming.
“She loved it!” Najer swears, insisting his friend thanked him after the bash rather than throttling him. “She laughed and had a huge smile on her face.”
To ease his stage fright before the party lampooning, Najer hired comedian Ari Teman to write jokes and coach him on delivery — including striking that essential balance between humor and malice.
In their best incarnations, birthday roasts might even be better than therapy — a chance for loved ones to deliver a message of concern through a withering blow.
“You’re definitely going to hear stuff you don’t expect to hear,” says Upper East Sider Desiree Burch, a 35-year-old performer, whose birthday roast a few years back was a wake-up call that helped her to see areas of her life she needed to work on.
“It’s like, ‘Oh, these people actually see me closely enough to know me and rib me about it.’ They’ve thought enough about me to say a few things that are biting.”
It’s like comedic catharsis. But, she adds, “It’s a sign that people totally love you — that they spend all this time and mental energy digging into your life and behavior.”
And perhaps the best part about being the victim of a birthday roast is the chance to return the favor.
Famuyide, for one, is counting the minutes until his friend Jason Wallace’s birthday this June.
“He’s been in my cross hairs for a year!” says Famuyide. “He doesn’t want a birthday roast, but I just might have to throw him a surprise one. I could go to town on him.”