How would you describe your style of comedy?
Honest. Too honest. It’s got to the point where my family don’t want to tell me anything. I’ll sit with my nan, she’ll have a drink and tell me stories – and it’s the best stuff I’ve ever heard. I’m almost like a detective, holding a little clipboard. There’s loads of stuff in my family that I still don’t know. Every now and again I find something else out because my nan has had half a bottle of ginger wine. I like people to know where I’m from and what I’m about. I think sometimes people see you on TV shows and think everything is rosy, look at him in his skates [on ITV’s Dancing on Ice], he must be living the life. But that’s just a moment in time, the real me and my life is very different.
Can you recall a gig so bad, it’s now funny?
Here’s a little tip for new comics … When you do audience interaction, don’t touch them. I was quite a new comic and I was doing a gig in the Black Country. There was a guy sitting in the crowd who looked like Jesus. I shook his hand and he pulled me towards him. I think he was trying to be funny. Then I pulled him. I was a 22-year-old man, I was strong. I pulled him and not only did he fall off the chair, he knocked all 17 pints off the table.
