Favorite comedy venue?
Without question The Comedy Store. The best room in the country. Another room I’m fond of is my bedroom - not a popular venue but one in which I am without fail, always guaranteed to get big laughs.

Favorite comedian (other than self)?
God...loads. John Hegley was a massive early influence. Woody Allen...the Marx Brothers....Roger de Courcey. In terms of this circuit all the usual suspects I suppose...Harry Hill, Al Murray, the Canadian comic Mike Wilmot is as good a comic as I’ve ever seen. I’d better also add Mike Gunn, Paul Thorne and Otiz Cannelloni who are close personal friends and would bear a grudge if I didn’t mention them.

First gig - what was it like?
It was in Coventry. Need I say more? Oh alright then...it was in 1987 when I was half of a double act called the Tracy Brothers. We played lots of songs and shouted a lot then collected the fee which was probably about £1.75 and got the hell out of Coventry as quickly as possible.

Biggest on-stage cock-up?
On more than one occasion I have berated a person for not looking at the stage only to discover that they were blind. More than once!! I’ve also taken the piss out of someone’s laugh and then been told they’ve recently had a stroke. The favourite cock-up I’ve witnessed featured a comedian who shall remain nameless trotting out the old favourite after being heckled "Do I come round to where you work and say ‘call that a Big Mac and fries’" This old soar can usually be relied on to work except when delivered to a room full of Macdonalds employees who just stared at this bloke as if to say "but that’s exactly what we do say...what’s your point?"

Imaginary best comedy line-up (i.e. famous people who are NOT comedians but should be)?
I’d open with a quiet, deadpan sort of act...Stephen Hawking say...and then close the first half with some music.....Lieutenant Pigeon playing all their hits - "Mouldy Old Dough", "Desperate Dan" and...the others. Did you know that the old woman out of Lieutenant Pigeon is the grandmother of Keith Flint from The Prodigy? Of course you didn’t. It’s bollocks. After the interval I’d go for the near to the knuckle sauciness of Joan Bakewell and her yodelling minge and close the show with some knockabout...Liam Gallagher and Robbie Williams battering each other about the face and neck a la Vic and Bob but with real pans. The show would close when either or both were lying dead, face down in a pool, of blood. And then a raffle.

What plans do you have for the future?
Sleeping. Not getting cancer. Continuing to shout "Pump It Up!!" very loudly at concerts when Elvis Costello is trying to play classical music.

Why did the chicken cross the road?
To throw itself headlong into a tandoori and be served up as an appetising and delicately spiced starter at the Bengal Lancer in Kentish Town, the finest Indian restaurant in North London, who now owe me free takeaways for a year.

Anything else you'd like to say?
I’d like to say "No Madonna...I refuse to satisfy your outrageous sexual demands any longer you insatiable lovebitch". In fact I do say that often but she’s rarely there.