Three blokes go into a pub. Something happens. The outcome was hilarious!

I feel sorry for James Blunt, he has to wake up every morning and think 'Oh my God, I'm James Blunt, what have I done?'

I am Zebedee, lord of the woods! Bow down snail, I have dominion!

I try to appreciate the simple things. I've just been camping with my son and I enjoyed that just as much if not more than a holiday in a posh hotel. I like making a cup of tea and bacon sarnie in the morning.

Add a drop of lavender to milk, leave town with an orange, and pretend you're laughing at it.

Live comedy's a very reckless, foolhardy profession. You're only as good as your last gig so earnings fluctuate.

Of course, uh, the universe is gradually slowing down and, uh, will eventually collapse inwardly on itself, according to the laws of entropy when all it's thermal and mechanical functions fail, thus rendering all human endeavors ultimately pointless. Just to put the gig in some sort of context.