On a dark January evening, as the country’s airwaves were temporarily ceded so the American president could ramble in a vaguely threatening manner, possibly under the influence of an exotic cocktail of dementia, syphilis, and/or Mad Cow Disease, a small crowd was gathered in the bar above El Cortez for some Brooklyn style comedy courtesy of the Yoko, the monthly standup showcase hosted in the space by comedians Claire O Kane, Ian Fidance and Jake Flores.

A mix of alt-standup styles with a tinge of the outre, the January edition of the event featured moments like Austin Chardac relating a David Sedaris-esque story about his estranged French father’s efforts to bury a dead dog, Eudora Peterson acting out a cowboy drawled, performance art style monologue while covering her clothes in designer hand lotion, and Ian Fidance delivering an energetic, off-kilter routine laced with bizarro punchlines. The evening’s unnamed special guest turned out to be deadpan comic legend Todd Barry, who called the Ingraham Street address “a block where three murders are going on,” and expressed disappointment in Bushwick Daily’s picture snapping etiquette. (“I expected better from an empty bar above a Mexican restaurant.”)

The last set of the night came from host Flores, who riffed on subcultural detritus such as the mid 2010s underground fashion trend of healthgoth, polyamory, and amyl nitrate poppers with a laid back cadence before building to more topical rants about the weird hells of service industry lifer-ism and the surreality of everyday televised capitalism.