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  • Writer's pictureJenny Wynter

More shameless celebrity spotting

I was assured by my dear mate and fellow blogger Gemnastics that far from being self-conscious about seeming star-struck, I should just let the shameless celeb references flow. So…now that I have permission…

Top moments of the night included finally having a proper introduction to Dave Callan (who, if you’ve been paying attention, will remember I clinked glasses with at the Gala after-party, only to have him dragged away by Rove). I reminded Dave of this and he went “ah yes, Rove. He’s a shocking clinker thief.” Insert star-struck-naieve-chuckle-by-Jenny here.

Within moments of catching up with Josh Thomas again outside the festival club, having him embrace his role as the comic-spotter to end all comic-spotters. “Look,” he whispered, “there go three of the funniest guys in the world.” And so they did: Demetri Martin, Daniel Kitson and David O’Doherty, strolling up Swanston Street in a three-headed social group of all-round funny-ness. Bless ’em.

But shock, horror, I am not even doing you the courtesy of relaying the night’s events in chronological order. Who the hell do I think I am? Quentin Tarantino?

Backtracking…the day ended with handing over two kids, exhausted from trekking around Southgate and getting rained on in the park, bringing me into evening performing for a small but friendly audience – supporting Barb Joseph in “So I married an Arab”. I was excited about doing a ten minute set, but yet again this got cut back to five due to time delays. Doh! So, I decided to put the stand-up aside and just do two songs, a decision which was seemingly affirmed by watching the final comedian in the previous show, the fabulous Jackie Loeb. I’d heard about her before but never seen her in action til tonight – she pretty much performed just song after song with the tiniest bit of stand-up thrown in. What an amazing voice and such great delivery and presence; I felt completely inspired and compelled to introduce myself and tell her so. “Thanks so much!” she said. “That means a lot coming from a comedian.” Gush.

But hang on, there was stuff that happened before that too. Who the hell do I think I am? Jean-Luc Godard?

Backtracking…I walk into the Elephant & Wheelbarrow at St Kilda, sit down and what do I hear but a “Is that Jenny Wynter?” I look up and it’s my fellow comic buddy from Brisvegas Nish! He and another Brissie comic (not to mention reluctant Tom Cruise lookalike) Alan Rutledge have just arrived in Melbourne this avo and are just stopping in to pick up their festival passes. It is so awesome to see them, just as I was beginning to feel lonely. 🙂

I watch Caroline Chilura’s (the other support for the evening and as a mummy comedian is a woman after my own heart) and then head off to the city with Nish and Alan. We manage to hook up with Josh Thomas (‘aha!’ you say, ‘we’re almost up to where this damn story started then!’ and right you are) and venture up to the good old Victoria Hotel and check out the comedy rooms. I don’t mean the shows in them comedy rooms, I mean literally, the comedy rooms. I start to get very, very excited (at Josh’s prompting) about putting a show on in one of them at next year’s fest. We get handed free beers by a very friendly young lady in a closed bar upstairs (to protect the innocent I shall omit names: don’t think I need to but hell, it adds intrigue) who then proceeds to disclose the names of all the comics she’s met and her personal opinions of each. I don’t mean opinions of their material (although that was included), I mean her PERSONAL opinions based on PERSONAL experience of their PERSONALities. Interesting. Again, to protect the innocent all shall remain nameless. If you want details, you’ll have to pay for the pleasure. I accept Visa and lattes.

The four Brissie amigos then head off to the Festival Club, where I’m happy to say we all have free passes. Greg Fleet MCs (damn he makes me laugh – there, how’s that for a to-the-point comedy review?) with appearances from Charlie Pickering (very inspired by the characters, especially by the way he incorporates them quite seamlessly into his set), Fiona O’Loughlin (I actually let out a very uncool squeal of delight when she was announced as I wasn’t expecting it and just LOVE her: she was fabulous as always in her smiley slash black fashion) and….da da da da, da da!!! TIM MINCHIN!!! In all his musical darkness, he actually reminded me in a very funny way of my mate Sam Mitchell (Sammy, that is a massive, massive compliment) but I’m still trying to figure out if that’s just cos they have similar facial hair.

Anyway, I’m getting all abstract now. Who do I think I am, Escher? Okay, sorry, that joke’s wearing a little thin now, isn’t it?

I’m sad to say I only have five days left in Melbourne, but on the positive side it’s only five days left of completely frying myself sleep-wise and then I’ll be in Tassie, where a little bird told me there’s perhaps a little less action to distract me from my chamber of slumber. But that is a secret, so please. No further.

So sleep, here I come! Mind you I’ll be solo parenting the entire week and a half…everybody say it with me. AAAAAGGGHH!

Anyway, it’s 3.17am and I need to go to bed before my intestines jump onto the kitchen hot-plate and fry themselves. That WOULD be awkward.

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