I have been lucky, of course. Like, last year, if I went out, I'd have to fight to chat someone up. This year, I look exactly the same, which is really scruffy, and yet lots of people seem to have just changed their minds and decided I'm really sexy.

I don't know what's wrong with me, My brain doesn't work anymore. I haven't any memory. I can't write. All I can do is sign my name. I tried to write the other day-it looked like I was writing in Braille.

I think that's just a general English attitude [being abusive]. I did the same thing to famous people.

I always think everything is going to be my last job so every single day is a gift. This whole life is an accident for me.

I'd go and get really drunk somewhere ... in the street. Pass out somewhere and sleep in the gutter.

My dad said to me the other day, I really am an artistic person. I was shocked as I never saw him as a creative. I think me and my sisters are living out that side of him as my sister is another creative person, she's a songwriter.

I'd love to be able to fit in a box. Like one of those people who fit into small boxes. I'd love it.