Tonight I went to the Comedy Club late session. I have connections....well, one connection...and with a flash of the Comedy Festival fancy-pants ticket thing, we by-passed the very long queue down Swanston Street into the Hi Fi, where we were ushered into the performers' bar. Very rock and roll. When it came time for the performance, we followed the other cool hipster comedy type people in through the performers' entrance to a great seat right in front of the stage. Well, actually, not right in front, thankfully, because right in front tends to mean you are in the danger zone where live comedy is concerned...and when it is slapstick...there is no end to the water, prosthetic limbs, soft toys, and catapulting people that might come your way. We sat just over to the side of the front of the stage. Close, but not close enough to risk contact.
So you think you can slapstick was a degustation of the comedic talent on show in the festival...a variety show, if you will. Very, very funny. And MCed by Hannah Gadsby, a very very funny woman from Tasmania originally...there's some pretty good things coming from Tasmania...James Boag beer, the Granny Smith apple, Princess Mary, amongst other things...but I digress...Hannah Gadsby. Very clever, very dry, very good.
Very late. Very tired. I reckon I could channel some of the slapstick into the French farce...it's about timing...
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