This Friday, "America's Funnyman" Neil Hamburger will turn the Funhouse into the Funnyhouse (sorry, but we had to say it before he did).

On the surface, Hamburger is the world's worst standup comedian. Appearing in an ill-fitting tux, oversized glasses and greasy comb-over, he delivers an unfunny stream of disjointed one-liners about his ex-wife, AIDS, lawyers, alcoholism, masturbation, hemorrhoids, dentists and so forth. Even worse are setups like "How many Spice Girls does it take to screw in a light bulb?" and "Why did Snoop Doggy Dog cross the road?" We've forgotten the groan-inducing punch lines, but somehow can't forget this stinker: "What do you get when you cross Elton John with a saber-toothed tiger? … I'm not sure, but I don't want it anywhere near my ass."

His several live albums released over the last decade demonstrate his inability to connect with audiences (especially on Left for Dead in Malaysia , in which the local audience doesn't understand English). His gags are met with ambient club noise -- clinking glasses, clinking slot machines, idle chatter -- but few genuine laffs. The same holds true on Laugh Out Lord (with musings on religion) and the X-rated Raw Hamburger (where things get a little blue).

He's clearly a hack, underscored by his constant, hacking cough. Combined with his labored delivery and lack of timing, Hamburger often seems perplexed -- he frequently sighs as if he too suspects he's not all that funny. Yet his desperation to elicit gut-busting guffaws renders him a pathetic, sad-sack loser. His most self-deprecating gags are followed by his not-so-catchy catchphrase, "But thaaaat's my life!"

Of course, it's all a put-on. Hamburger is a fictional character brilliantly played by a guy named Gregg Turkington, bringing to mind fellow comic genius Andy Kaufman and his alter-ego Tony Clifton. Hamburger's seemingly one-dimensional comedy is actually a wicked, multi-level satire of the tired genre. Whatever it's called -- anti-humor, postmodern standup, meta-comedy -- it works, and is actually far funnier than most of what passes for comedy these days. Indeed, Hamburger made us an instant fan upon the first words we ever heard out of his mouth, at Chop Suey in 2002: "Why didn't Osama bin Laden get any Christmas presents from Santa Claus? … Because he blew up the World Trade Center."

That's solid-gold comedy. Local acts Pleaseeasaur and the Sacred Truths open.