I don't think a day has gone past in 10 years where someone hasn't said, 'What did you do with those guns from Lock, Stock?' And there's pretty much not a week that's gone by where someone hasn't got me to say, 'It's a deal, it's a steal, it's the sale of the f**king century.' Apart from that I get, 'You were brilliant in Notting Hill,' because I look vaguely like Rhys Ifans.

I do six or seven films a year in order to sustain my lifestyle.

All the birds love Touche Eclat. It's a (concealer) pen that gets rid of eye bags. But I'm quite happy otherwise. I train a lot.

My friends decided to open a pub and asked me to be part of it. The day-to-day running is something I know little about. Luckily, I'm the demented figurehead, a kind of mascot. I get all the good stuff - like free pork scratchings - without any of the bad stuff.

I live in jeans, mainly Wrangler and Nudie. I like them as dark blue as they'll go and tightly woven.

A lot of pubs in London are now faceless, expensive yuppy bars. Not like when I was growing up. The pub used to be, and should be, the pillar of community.

I got up to all sorts of things when I was a kid, but I've managed to take the excessive alcohol and fast vehicle combination out of my life now.