I’ve never done a comedy club in my life. It’s weird because I don’t have the same background as most comics. I don’t have a history of going up and only doing eight minutes.
Chic Murray once told me he fell in the street, and a woman said to him, “Did you fall?” He said, “No, I’m tryin’ to break a bar of chocolate in my back pocket.”
Oh aye…my Father would thrash me every now and then. He’d talk while he did it too! He’d hit me and shout, ‘Have ye had enough?’ Had enough? Whit kind of question is that? ‘Why, Father, would another kick in the balls be out of the question???’
Once you become successful, people know where you live, the type of house you live in, the kind of car you drive, the clothes you wear, and so it would be patronising to go and talk like a welder. Welding’s a mystery to me now. You can’t go back, your life changes every day.
I’m a citizen of the world. I like it that way. The world’s a wonderful. I just think that some people are pretty badly represented. But when you speak to the people themselves they’re delightful. They all want so little.
There’s nothing better than a fight, especially when you’re watching it from a safe place. You can yell encouragement! Hit him with the left, he’s a big Jessie!
The strangest thing is at tea breaks, or coffee breaks or lunch, you forget you’re a zombie. And you’re talking about politics to somebody at the table and you forget that you have a bullet hole in your forehead.
