You Know It's A Sad Day When

I Don't Mind Most Religious People, I Talk To Them. I Listen To Them, You Know, Banging On. "i Prayed Very Hard And Then The Fairy Came." "did He? Good. Have A Biscuit." I Only Get Annoyed When They Try And Make Me See The Fairy. "you Have To Let The Fairy Into Your Heart." Look, I Wouldn't Let Him Into My Garden, Okay? I'd Shoot Him On Sight, If He Existed, Which He Doesn't. Now Have Another Biccie And Be Quiet, Will You Please?

Adulthood Feels Like Walking Around In The Desert With A Bag Over Your Head, Being Bumped Into By People Who Rob You As They Bore You.

It Probably Says Something Really Clinically Terrible About My Character That I Need To Get Up On A Stage And Go 'ra Ra Ra' In Front Of People.

There Are Two Types Of Wine Essentially, And Everybody Knows This. There's The One Where You Drink It And Go, "mmmm, Well That's Ok, Can We Get 8 Of Those Please, Give Us 8 Of Those." There's The Other One, You Know, Where You Go "ga... Bt... Jesus, What Is That?" Very, Very Occasionally I Concede You Will Hit A Subtle One. You Know, Where You Go "ga... Ba... Ah, Actually That's Not That Bad, That Is. It's Quite Nice."

As An Irish Person, There's A Historical Fascination With America: America Is The Default Green And Promised Land For Irish People And Italians; That's What We Grow Up With.