I have a habit of sabotaging the moment in pursuit of perfection.

An “elastic” sense of time (fancy way of saying I am late a lot).

Catastrophising.

I don’t think anyone should deplore anything about themselves. You can always improve things, but by deploring you’re putting yourself on a losing streak.

Turning my life around. Seeing the level of criminality I was involved with, and coming to the realisation that it was not the life that I should be leading.

Leafleting for a window company when I was 12. I remember putting them through letterboxes thinking: I’m going to sell drugs, because this is rubbish.

Want for your brothers and sisters what you want for yourself.

Juicy, funny, impulsive.

To my cousin P, who was one of my best mates growing up. We lost him when we were in our 20s and, before he passed away, I was so busy with this stupid thing called life and a brand new kid. He called me and said: “Bro, I’m not feeling right.” And I said: “Bro, you’ve never been feeling right.” And it always sits on my head that if me or somebody else had been paying more attention maybe things would have worked out different. He had extremely rare bowel cancer and died five weeks later at 27.

I bought a BMW 7 series and my best mate said: “I don’t think you should buy this, bro, it’s too cheap.” And I said: “Let’s live the dream” and put my foot down hard on the accelerator and the bottom of the engine and the gearbox blew out.