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Aaron Woodall takes apart an inspirational desk calendar he received for Christmas, specifically its daily advice to “wake up and remember who you are.” His counterpoint is Tom Brady: remembering your identity is great when you have four Super Bowl rings and a supermodel spouse, but waking up to remember you run a phone kiosk in a shopping mall is an exercise in dread.

Taped at the Dry Bar Comedy club in Provo, Utah, the 43-minute set catches Woodall early in his career, back when his default stage persona was the polite son mothers adore. He was fresh off a brief hosting run on BYUtv’s hidden-camera show Random Acts and still working within the confines of his Mormon background, years before his material leaned into deconversion and darker personal territory.

Working under the venue’s strict profanity ban, he focuses on premises that rely on structure rather than shock. He points out that nobody pretends to be religious to impress people at parties, breaks down how Harry Potter is basically a thrift-store version of Star Wars, and examines the unavoidable suspicion generated by buying a human-sized duffle bag at a surplus store.