I can’t stand folk who are all snobby about reality TV.
As a rule, wearing a bigger pair of jeans looks better than squishing yourself into a pair of jeans that used to fit before you gave up smoking.
I wouldn’t say I was grumpy. It’s more pathological – I have seismic tantrums. I get red in the face and cry at least three times a week, and I have to lie down and have a nap afterwards.
Well, I really don’t like heights. I don’t get on the top deck of a double-decker because that’s a bit high for me. I always feel that I’m going to hurl myself off, so heights are a problem.
There should be more booing in shops and restaurants and places like that when when the service is bad. If you’ve had a poor breakfast in a hotel, you should put your knife and fork down and boo.
A good fart joke makes me bawl with laughter, so will somebody farting. And the word ‘poo.’ You can’t beat a good poo joke.
For me, being a woman suits what I want to talk about and what my audience wants to hear. Maybe I’m a dying breed.
I admire the Elsie Tanners and Barbara Windsors of the world: people who have crawled back from the abyss. I’m quite camp in that respect.
I can eat a man, but I’m not sure of the fiber content.
I can’t tan naturally.
I don’t do marriage. I think it’s incredibly naff. And I don’t like vulgar displays of ostentation.
I have a very solo career. I only write with people that I really adore.
I know the new comedy god is surrealism, but it doesn’t touch my heart.
I am best viewed from a distance.
Women are more emotional, and it’s natural to talk about it.
The comedy I like the best is comedy I can’t do, stuff that doesn’t touch my arena.
I’ve never been prudish.
I’m very bad at having heroes. I don’t rate anyone particularly highly because I’m so snide and competitive and not very nice.
I was trained as an actress. But I wasn’t a very convincing actress, so I started doing punk poetry and then fell into doing stand-up.
I think my siblings sometimes have to defend me within their social circles – they are both barristers.