I don't come out on film. I get the red eye. Blokes like that: [imitates knocking someone out] "You fuckin' will in a minute, ya twat!" - Lee Evans

Some footballers earn a fortune. 30 grand, 40 grand, 90 grand a week, some of them. And then they say stuff in interviews like "I'm not really enjoying the football at the moment." Not enjoying the football? 90 grand a week? I'd be fucking delirious with it! I wouldn't just hug somebody for scoring a goal, I'd shag 'em.

My phone will ring at three in the morning, and my wife'll look at me and go "Who's that calling at this time?" I don't fucking know! If I knew that, we wouldn't need the bloody phone!

TGI Friday's, American style restaurant. Well, they're mental, they're mental. I dunno. It's American, "Have a nice day" and everything. So I go in, sit in a booth. This bloke comes out of the kitchen and went [in a high-pitched voice] "HI!" [imitates fireworks whistling] "Yes, you are, aren't you?" What are they on in there? They must be in the kitchen, going [imitates snorting cocaine] "HIGH! WHAT CAN I DO FER YOU?" "You can fuck off!" "HOW WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO FUCK OFF?" "With a punch up the neck, get out of it!" I've figured out a way to get them back: be the same as them, just before you go in, get yourself prepared and go like "HI!" They come round there, like, "H-... OH, MY GOD, THE SAME AS US!"