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

Imagine that, a poncho sombrero combo, I'll be off my tits on happiness.

Last time you bring me pie, I cut into it, with my tiny pie cutter, and millions of birds flew out hitting me in the eyes and the temples... it was a trick pie!

My nan used to look after me in the summer holidays and she had a cat with one eye. It used to walk into walls and tables. I used to think it was hilarious. It was a slapstick cat.

The tie's a multi purpose accessory, y'know, belt, school boy, Rambo.

When I was 13 I told my dad I'd rather kill myself than do an ordinary job. He vaguely muttered something about how I'd need to earn a living somehow, but he's been totally behind me, forking out money he didn't really have to send me to university. Every other comedian I've met had to fight their parents to be allowed to do this but mine have been brilliant.

You must have stuck a finger up your arse at least once.