"I was in the movie for about four seconds," says Byrne. "In the end he dies, Bono that is, or was that Jesus? Jesus and Bono, same fella I reckon."

Besides not liking chips, Byrne reckons other un-Irish things are: "Being positive all day and night, open compliments, very good looking people, loving our government, going to mass, not going to mass, staying friends with someone forever when you hate them, hugging, listening and crying. Need I go on?"

It's no wonder Byrne has re-camped to Australia. The change in location was a good move for the former electrician and has helped him a lot, he says. "I used to work in Australia as a banker for ANZ, I sat in the interview for hours, with scorn faces looking back at me, until one of them said, 'Can you say Diddley for us?' Diddley, I said. They laughed with tears in their eyes and I was employed immediately. I've been doing that ever since."

Now in his forties, Byrne has been on the comedy circuit for 20 years and has finessed his unique style of comedy where audience participation is used to drive his shows.

Byrne explains: "We have random titles, stunts, stand-up and audience participation, that get pulled out of a box, and whatever comes out, goes. Every show is different."

The show is "a celebration of the 20 years I've been doing comedy," says Byrne. "I will go through the funny and unfunny things I have learnt through the years, oh, and I'll be wrapped in bubble wrap at some point, whipped, and shrunk." Which may or may not be a selling point.

His comedy these days, he says, is "slower, thicker, with knowledge and emotions, that is, and old, very old. I came out on stage with a candle the other night, as I was asked to do stuff from my first-ever gig. They had gas lamps at that gig too, and maidens with bosoms, not breasts, but bossomsssss."

Byrne's lunatic stand-up shows, once described as "jaw-achingly funny", uses audience participation as his stock in trade, which really means that he likes to create organised chaos, humiliate his audiences and make them feel uncomfortable.

At least he's in front of an audience who has paid money to see him be funny, unlike being at home with his kids. "My kids are not funny at all. They're very serious, they moan at me a lot and aren't really interested in my comedy stories. One of them is a mini doctor while the other is a mini lawyer. When they're bored, they pour themselves milk into whiskey glasses, and make me jump around for them. I'm their fool they say. I need to run away. They use lollipops as cigarettes."

Jason Byrne - You Name The show

When: March 20 & 21, 9pm

Where: Canberra Theatre Centre, Playhouse

Tickets: $46.90 available from canberracomedyfestival.com.au