6. What do your parents/children (delete as applicable) think of your job?
My parents are frustratingly supportive. They've done so much to help me and simultaneously been so damaging with their positivity.  A nightmare given that art is supposed to come from pain. When I was 15 they separated, giving me a fighting chance of a prosperous career in comedy. Then when I was 16 they got back together, selfishly snatching it away from me. I've been through nothing to get here. All odds in my favour. I've got bruises from how much patting on the back I've had. 

7. What’s the worst thing about being a comedian?
People I went to school with but didn't really speak to asking me if I know Jack Whitehall. 

8. I think you are very good at what you do (that’s why I’m asking these questions). What do you think of you?

I've seen you ask this questions a lot so I'm going to take that compliment lightly. In fact - I've seen all of these questions loads of times. This 'rarely' asked questions feature of yours has been completed by about 500 comedians. What the heck are you playing at mate? (editor's note – good point). But fair play, I mean, I'm great. 

9. How much do you earn and how much would you like to earn?
According to how much I spend on completely pointless things like opening packs on FIFA 17, I am the 1%. In reality, I earn enough to never get involved in Black Friday and Uber to a bowling alley on a Tuesday afternoon, so I'm probably just the 5%. 

10. How important is luck in terms of career success – have you had lucky breaks?
A man once said to me: "Be ready when the luck comes." That man was then immediately run over by a golden limousine, so I'm not sure I believe that. Someone else once told me to know exactly when to namedrop. The guy who actually told me "be ready when the luck comes"? TV's James Corden.

11. Alan Davies has said that comedians fall into two categories - golfers and self-harmers. The former just get on with life, the latter are tortured artists. Which are you – or do you think you fit into a third category?
Wow. Banging on about your celebrity mates. This is sad, Bruce. "Oooh Alan Davies once told me..." Tragic. Anyway, I'm not sure you can call yourself a tortured artist if you get up at 1pm, but I am going to do that. I am tortured and I constantly self-harm, but in a very slow, purely dietary sense. (editor's note - Alan didn't 'once tell me', I read it in an interview. And I'm being told this by a man who namedrops James Corden)

12. Who is your favourite person ever and why – not including family or friends or other comedians?
I've had my heart broken by footballers more than anyone else. The person who currently wields the most power over my emotions - meaning that if he left I would be an absolute wreck - is Dele Alli. 

13. Do you keep your drawers tidy and if not why not? (please think long and hard about this question, it's to settle an argument with my girlfriend. The future of our relationship could depend on your response).

You've been asking this question for a long time, Bruce. Are you still together? Or did the results of your research pierce the surface and expose in your mind the fact you're different people with different feelings who want different things. It starts out as a debate about tidiness and gradually erupts into a panic about children, the city, marriage, your dreams. You gradually come to accept that love doesn't conquer all it just distracts you from the obstacles for a while. So you separate, you move out to your own place with your own chest of drawers that can be as messy as you like. You feel liberated. You're free. The shackles are off. Your drawers are your own but that represents so much more. You are the king of your castle. Finally. Then weeks pass, maybe months and your mind begins its pointed process of unbidden reminiscence. Suddenly your freedom is boring. It's worthless, because you're the only one in it - but you know you must bounce back. You start getting your act together. Matching your socks straight after a wash. Balling them up when they're dry. Folding your pants and having a side for each in your draw. Ironing your t-shirts. Washing your linen more frequently and stacking them as neat as a mum would. But despite your efforts it's pointless. She's gone. She's not coming back. And all because in 2015 you wanted to know if Steve Bugeja thinks of himself as more of a golfer or a self-harmer. 

 

My drawers are messy as fuck mate. (editor's note - well, you look like someone who keeps his drawers tidy)