Words – Kate Forsyth

Photos – J Forsyth

Pub Diaries, Edinburgh Castle, 681 Sydney Rd Brunswick.  Tuesday nights, 8pm.

In a poll of 165,890 Melbournians*, 97% reported that on Tuesday nights, they either a) vacuum their undie draw, b) shampoo the carpet or c) worm the cat.

It’s official. Tuesday nights are the worst.

Monday beholds weekend afterglow, Wednesday is hump day providing the allure that you might get some somethin’ somethin’, Mum buys you a chocolate bar on Thursdays and Friday shrieks weekend.

But no longer does Tuesday eve need to be filled with doom, gloom, dust removal or parasite extraction because Pub Diaries has come to Brunswick’s Edinburgh Castle. Phew.


In the cosy dining room out back, two blokes and a projector screen take you into your own little game show, described as team-based improv theatre sports. Don’t despair though or stop reading because there are no theatre nerds or earnest acting school weirdos or troupes of any kind, though I am sure they would be welcomed.

Our smooth host, William Ewing jogged out through the crowd, planting a kiss on yours truly (I blushed), and Jerrum Wurlod (or Dubbsie) was our DJ, co-host, wearer of dark glasses inside and owner of a deep luscious voiceover.

The be-suited and dashing pair guided the crowd through several segments, the first being, ‘Who shat is Joe’s tent?’

As I was on Melbourne Arts Club reviewing duties, I was a participating contestant (you can also just play along and laugh at those who go on stage) and had to convince the audience, along with three other civilians, that I shat in Joe’s tent at a music festival.

What did I say? I did it because he stood me up at the Ferris Wheel, I was overmedicated and went into the wrong tent to relieve myself. My improv inspiration came from some super unlucky pals of mine, who a couple of years ago experienced a very similar travesty at a music festival in their brand new tent, which was also their first ever joint asset. Against all odds, they married (each other) last year, having weathered that tent disaster. By the way, they kept the tent.

While I’m happy to tell a story at a party or anytime really, GETTING INVOLVED is not something I would normally go for, solely due to fear of being heckled and the fact that I may not look cool, therefore destroying my carefully created street cred.

But participating was super fun and heckler-free, plus there was the chance I could win an Aldi Pizza Stone worth $11,253. Alas, I am not richer by one pizza stone today, but I do believe that I am a richer person for taking part.


Other highlights were ‘Pitch this’ where audience members pitched a Hollywood  movie as disparate images rolled across the screen. A ninja with an outback-like sunset, followed by three policemen on Segways was pitched as a film about taking indigenous Australia to Japan, and getting three men; John, Peter and Genevieve to help out. GOLD.

Assuming this isn’t how host Will Ewing normally gets along in the world, his host character was the perfect mix of the great/horrid hosts of yore; Ian Turpie, Greg Evans, Larry Emdur, Tony Barber and that guy from that show with the cases of money who was photographed on drugs that time and said he was just ‘tired and emotional’; bravado, charm, sleaze, front and humour aplenty.

My recommendation? Liven up the crappiest night of the week with Pub Diaries. If my advice as an upstanding member of the community is not enough to get you along, then perhaps the free jug of beer or wine for every table of four booked will entice you to put down the cat worming tablets.

But I don’t have three friends, you exclaim! Just do as I did and inflate your three best blow-up dolls and bombs away on that free wine. Good day.






Pub Diaries –

Edinburgh Castle –