Well, Sanity, I Suppose, Is Getting People

When I Was Nine I Spent A Lot Of My Time Reading Books About The History Of Comedy, Or Listening To The Goons Or Hancock, Humour From Previous Generations.

In 1987, I Was In Edinburgh Doing My First One-man Show. I Took Part In A Kickabout With Some Fellow Comedians And Tripped Over My Trousers And Heard This Cracking Sound In My Leg. A Couple Of Days Later I Went Into A Coma And Was Diagnosed With A Pulmonary Embolism.

When I Turned About 12 Or 13, I Realised That Being Funny Wasn't About Remembering Jokes. It Was About Creating Them.

I'm Always Amazed To Hear Of Air Crash Victims So Badly Mutilated That They Have To Be Identified By Their Dental Records. What I Can't Understand Is, If They Don't Know Who You Are, How Do They Know Who Your Dentist Is?

At One Point In The Mid-eighties I Shared A Promoter With The Smiths. One Night, We Were Sitting Backstage When Morrissey Burst In, Utterly Distraught, Sobbing His Heart Out. Turns Out Someone Had Thrown A Sausage At Him On Stage During 'meat Is Murder.'