Every renter knows the dehumanising series of hoops one must jump through to snag a new house or apartment. Typically, that includes submitting references to prove you’re a worthy tenant.
But when he was looking for a new place to live in 2022, the comedian Tom Cashman decided to flip the script and ask a prospective landlord to provide their own references – from previous tenants, about what kind of property owner they are. His very funny TikTok about the interaction went viral, striking a chord about how little power renters have. (And no, the landlord didn’t supply references – nor did Cashman end up getting that apartment.)
It may have hurt his chances of finding a home, but the attention certainly helped his career. Since then, Cashman has gone on to co-host the Channel 10 show Taskmaster, appear regularly on The Project, and release his own comedy special. He’s also part of the first wave of names announced for the Sydney comedy festival in 2025.
Cashman has an unusual but effective method for testing out jokes. Here, he tells us about the video game that helps him avoid bombing on stage, along with the stories of two other important personal belongings.
What I’d save from my house in a fire
There are two categories of thing you’re meant to save in a fire: pictures of family and items that are one of a kind. I possess something that falls into both categories.
My dad, Greg, is a high school maths teacher and this drawing was done by Nina Antcliff. The drawing was done as part of a year 7 art class, for which Dad kindly volunteered to sit as a subject. The artist gifted the work to Dad, who gifted it to me. He framed it “as a joke”, but subconsciously I think he was trying to point me towards deeper meaning in the piece.
The subject’s blank gaze conveys a quiet stoicism, perhaps a comment on the temperament required for a career in education? The work also takes aim at waning attention spans in our modern age – you’ll notice the subject couldn’t sit still for 15 minutes without putting AirPods in.
Mainly though, this illustration represents the lengths fathers will go to get their children’s attention. I look forward to Nina’s future work. In the meantime, I will guard this drawing with my life.
My most useful object
Nothing’s more essential to my creative process than the PlayStation game NBA 2K24. Hear me out.
When comedians try new jokes, there’s always the potential for failure. As you can imagine, this is probably the most emotionally taxing part of the job. Leaning into a punchline and receiving nothing but silence back is a special kind of empty feeling.
Most standups will test new ideas during mixed lineup shows at bars or comedy clubs, but when I have an idea for a bit, I fire up 2K on my PS4 and step on to the court in a game. Usually, one or two players with microphone headsets will be chatting, commentating on the game and talking trash. This is your crowd. Time to type some jokes into the message box and get some goddamn laughs.
If users don’t like a joke when it’s delivered by Steph Curry, LeBron James or the horse mascot for the Detroit Pistons, fat chance they’ll like me saying it. So it’s a useful process to filter out bad ideas and avoid the humiliation of saying them in public.
The item I most regret losing
When I was 11, our house was robbed. My dad and little sister came home to find a woman out the front looking for her dog. She told them her dog was missing and loudly called for her: “Missy!”
Dad’s suspicion was piqued when a few minutes later she called the dog “Misty”. When he eventually walked inside he was right – the woman had been standing guard, and was yelling the dog’s name as a way to alert her co-conspirators that someone was home.
My Game Boy (and the Pokémon Yellow cartridge inside it) were stolen that day. There was probably other stuff stolen too, like jewellery or whatever, but I didn’t care about that. I was 11.
I’d spent hours training up those Pokémon, having taken a principled stance against the cheat where you surf on the coast of Cinnabar Island and get 99 rare candies. That loss taught me hard work doesn’t always pay off.
Tom Cashman will appear at the 2025 Sydney comedy festival
