As a recent divorcé, Nick Griffin revels in a life of dirty laundry, frozen pizza and porno. “It’s like being a private eye, without any cases,” exclaims the comedian. Then again, bachelorhood has its drawbacks. “You’re only single in your 20s. When you’re 30 — you’re alone,” gripes Griffin. If only Charlize Theron would have sex with him. Despite life’s woes, Griffin smirks, throws up his hands and kills the crowd with his self-deprecating style.

Being a bachelor again, what’s the worst date you’ve been on recently?

The one in my head where the woman is kind, hot and sexually talented and doesn’t care that my brain is less than perfect, and she talks me into getting married and I get fat and start writing bad jokes.

If you could drive into any storefront, which one would it be and why?

I don’t know. Where does Rumsfeld shop?

Which is better and why: a French maid, a cheerleader or the nice studious girl?

It doesn’t matter. None of them like me anyway. Or do they? What have you heard?

You’re from Kansas. Elaborate on how guys court their women there.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can I interest you in some chloroform?”

Being a bachelor again, what’s the most desperate thing you’ve done?

See my last answer.

When it came to the beach-girl panty-raid epidemic in Malibu, were you found guilty or innocent?

Sadly, that week I was in a hotel room in Ohio sitting at the end of the bed with my face in my hands, wondering why I’m still doing standup instead of getting on with my life.

At the Comedy & Magic Club, 1018 Hermosa Ave., Hermosa Beach; Tues.-Fri., Aug. 15-18, 8 p.m.; Sat., Aug. 19, 7 & 9:15 p.m.; $15 ($22 Fri.-Sat.). Resv. recommended. (310) 372-1193.

—Anthony D’Alessandro

LA Weekly