Not for the faint of heart is an understatement. Still Broke, the latest album from comedian Adam Hunter, doesn’t ask for permission nor does it beg for forgiveness. Adam isn’t afraid to voice brutally honest resentment towards his newfound marriage, roast his audiences’ appearance, or embrace taboos. He is a talented performer and writer, an absurd, ballsy, one-of-a-kind smart aleck. Most importantly, the artist and album walks a fine line between provoking outrage and being off-putting.

Still Broke is knowingly glib. Adam uses stereotypes and sensitive topics as a launchpad for brash imagination, not for rancor or malice. He invites the audience to respond to his problematic playfulness; there’s refuge in that cathartic recklessness.

If you’re not offended by Adam’s brand of roguish whimsy, congratulations, you’re probably not offended by much. If you are offended...give it a second. Still Broke has every kind of joke, from cheeky wordplay to raunchy overshares, referencing anything from Bill Cosby to enhancement pills. There are no sacred cows, no ceremony to stand on, no time to explain the humor and no effort to assess the damage.

Adam employs the law of averages, or more aptly, the LOL of averages. His satirical chutzpah is framed by endurance. Adam Hunter is focused. After a joke, he’s on to the next one (and the next one). There’s pace and perseverance as Adam Hunter goes against the grain. Cringe, groan, or scoff as you may, the funny keeps coming, towards you, for you. Still Broke provides waves and waves of deviant debauchery. Eventually it’ll get you, by shock or by wit or by unflinching realness. It’s only a matter of time.