“I absolutely love Hughesy, he’s a fair dinkum funny bloke” shouts one stylish mullet to the other outside the Athenaeum Theatre. Dave Hughes has attracted an all-encompassing appeal over Australian audiences before most comedy goers can remember and has developed into the symbol of Australian comedy. His larrikin voice carries out across the sea of eager faces as he shuffles on stage, firstly describing how his day’s gone from bad to worse, his downfall sparking hilarity and cries from the audience. Dave is eager to talk to the audience and his subtle picking on audience members, as well as himself, alleviates the tense atmosphere which always precipitates stand-up comedy. Dave himself, seems to be surprised he’s on stage and performs as thought this is a dream, he doesn’t come across as pretentious or arrogant but rather, as endearing and relatable. This was the first stand-up comedy show my brother had been to, and losing his comedy virginity to Dave Hughes was more tender an experience than what Madonna could have envisioned in 1984. My tummy is left in stitches throughout the show, as Dave takes the audience on a constructed narrative which comes across as effortlessly connected, differing anecdotes flow into one hilarious stream of conscious thought. I often find that the best way to judge comedy is not how hard you laughed during the show but how hard you laugh after the show, when remembering the told jokes. The comedian gives you a gift of hilarious memories, which you can recite so that the show never ends in your mind. My brother and I recite Dave’s lines to each other on the whole train ride home, laughing to the dismay of other passengers who probably hadn’t just seen such an amazing comic.