Charlie Pickering shares the joke

Charlie Pickering, known for his Triple J shows, is now confirmed as one of the mentors in this competition. Here is a sample of his vast knowledge to get you started:

'How to tell a Joke" by Charlie Pickering
I don't claim to be an expert in the black art of joke telling, but I can impart these simple rules that will begin you on the right path.
1. Get the details right. There's nothing worse than someone telling a joke, messing up the facts and then trying to cram them in at the end. Your joke shouldn't end up like this: 'Guy walks into a bar. Barman says, "Why the long face" Oh, come on! That's hilarious! Oops. Did I mention the guy was a horse?" I learned this rule from my father (Dad, my apologies if you're reading this).
2. Test it first. I recommend a small test audience of one close friend before attempting any grand unveilings. There is little more horrific than someone clinking a glass and calling for the attention of everyone at a bar before delivering a half-baked joke that would make a four-year-old yearn for something more highbrow. However, it is important that you don't test it on your mother, because she will just ask you why you haven't got a real job. (Mum, my apologies if you're reading this).
3. If you're telling a dirty joke, make it someone else's fault. I honestly believe it is possible for anyone to get away with any joke, no matter how dirty it is. My Grandma was the master. To begin with, she'd pretend to still be shocked at hearing the joke the first time. Secondly, she'd condemn whoever told it to her and how brazen it was to even sully her virgin ears with it. By this point even the most prudish person is chomping at the bit to hear the vulgar anecdote, regardless off the consequences. This is where the true genius of my grandmother would begin. She'd say that she could only tell the joke if you promised not to be offended. Once you promise, with a twinkle in her eye that reminds you that she was not only young once but it was during the depression when people needed to swear just to get by, she unleashes a tale that would offend sailors. But if you're offended, you've broken a promise to a sweet old lady. What kind of person are you? Checkmate! (Grandma, I apologise if you're reading this).
4. Comedy = Tragedy + Time. This is my only rule of timing. When something bad happens, wait a little while, and instead of crying, you can have a good laugh. I learned this when my first dog, Hudar, died while my mother was attempting to orchestrate a dinner party for her friends. To her credit she managed a successful three-course meal, the burial of a dog and keeping it a secret from her children. It wasn't until the next morning that my sister Suzie asked, "When did Hudar die?" To this day I still hoot with laughter with my mother's response, "Somewhere between entrée and main". (Suzie and Hudar, if you're reading this, I apologize for laughing.)
5. Know when to stop. If you're lucky enough to remember rules one to four and have a joke succeed, quit while you're ahead. Thank the audience, tell them to try the fish and walk away. It is a blessing to have any audience of any size (even a family dinner) find you amusing. It is criminal to abuse that privilege, prattle on and turn mild entheusiasm into malevolent disgust simply by cracking wise. I learned this one from myself. (Mum, Dad, Grandma, Suzie and Hudar, I apologize for the dinners ruined learning this the hard way).

This article originally appeared in The Age.