I'm going to name drop like an idiot now, but Bono rang me up once, right? I don't know how he got my number, but I, ever so stupidly, and obviously thought it was one of my mates mocking about. So I was like, "Yeah, whatever." And it was him, but I even went to him, "That's not even a good Irish accent!"

Reality depresses me. I need to find fantasy worlds and escape in them.

I'd have to do unannounced gigs because your fans will laugh at everything because they know what you do already. What you really want is a neutral audience that isn't too harsh - a good comedy crowd - but that don't know necessarily what you're doing.

If you're going to be a good standup, or a successful standup, or a standup who can work for money, you have to eliminate the possibility of dying quickly.

Yeah? Rock 'n' Roll is fast, you know. If all goes according to plan I could be in rehab next thursday. Tuesday week I'll be living on an island with a small Indian boy.

Englishmen do like to get in a dress, any excuse.

I'd like to punch out a really old lady. There'd be no repercussions.