I Don't Think I Am Particularly Funny.

When I Was 16, I Wanted To Look Like Lord Byron. It's Not Really A Haircut So Much As A Hair-not-cut, But I've Never Changed It. It's A Bit Byron, A Bit Don Juan Demarco And Other Things That I Aspire To Be.

Column Writing Is Like Gas - It Fills The Available Space.

All This Health And Safety Talk Is Just Killing Me.

Why Is The Forecast So Bland? Why Instead Of 'stormy' Don't They Just Say The Sea's 'a Frothing Maelstrom Of Terror And Hopelessness'?

I Have A Pathological Terror Of Falling Through Ice. I Nearly Drowned Once. I Fell Off A Boat And Got A Cramp, And Was Rescued By An Oil-rig Diver, A Great Bear Of A Man Who Simply Leant Into The Water And Scooped Me Out With One Finger.