If you find faecal matter involved in coitus, you do think, ‘What have we become?’ Particularly after you’ve ejaculated

What’s the weirdest animal you’ve ever ridden?
A dog. Not for practical reasons, it was a leisure pursuit. Sam the dog, my first pet. I think I was on top of him.

What kind of dog was he?
A mongrel. I would never treat a thoroughbred animal in that fashion. And there are countless rats and mice I would have stood on, onstage. Not ridden, because obviously they’re not beasts of burden, they couldn’t bear my weight. But I’ve been over it, I’ve dominated it, it’s been my subordinate.

Many rodents, insects I’ve trodden on. Thinking about it, where Dr Doolittle has spoken to the animals, I’ve subjugated the animals, and been over most of them, I’m sort of like a modern-day Tarzan. Whilst I’m not necessarily riding them in a Roy Rogers fashion, I’m very much their overlord.

When did you last use mice on stage?
About six months ago. I did ‘Live Theatre With Dead Animals’. A family of dead rats, infant mice and chicks, I solved audience problems – one girl said a boy at school touched her up in a cupboard, and I was able to help her reach a peaceful conclusion via the animals.

Here’s something interesting, I went to the pet shop to buy the dead mice and rats and I nearly got lured into this subculture I didn’t want to belong to. The bloke I was buying them from was there with his mate, and he asked me why I was using them and he said “I know where you can get a dead pig if you want one…” I was like, fuckin’ hell, hidden subculture, he’d get me a dead human.

What’s the most depraved sexual thing you’ve ever done?
Well it’s subjective to a degree. It’s only when certain fluids and matter emerge when you might think “Oh Christ.” If you find faecal matter involved in coitus, you do think, “What have we become?” Particularly after you’ve ejaculated.

Yeah, there have been times when faecal matter has – inadvertently, I’m at pains to point out – been involved. And also urine. Sometimes when your cheeks are bloated with urine you think, “I’ve got a choice now – it has to go down my gullet, or into some kind of receptacle.”

Quite. Any fetishes?
Really I just like tits and ass. I’m not into animals, or the elderly, or jigsaws.

Jigsaws?
Yeah, that would be a weird thing to be into, wouldn’t it?

It would. Do you have any recurring dreams?
Yeah, that I’m in this labyrinthine, 1970s-style bedsit flat, with all these endless doorways at waist height that I have to shuffle into. And I can never get out.

Have you ever had any relationship with a fan?
I have, I should never have done it. This lapdancer woman, it became a nightmare. She’d phone up MTV and tell them I was using MTV taxis to pick up lapdancers and prostitutes and have heroin delivered.

Were you?
Yes! Yes I was. But she made it sound worse than it was. She made it sound so seedy!

She made it sound worse by saying it to someone.
That’s right, it sounded so much worse articulated into the ears of the MTV accounts department.

Necrophilia, coprophilia or bestiality?
I think I would like to eat the shit of a dead ram, thus incorporating all three in one glorious nugget.

On TV.
Yes, bestiality, live on your TV set on Channel 4.

A three-minute show.
I don’t see it going much further.

Ever had an imaginary friend?
No, but as a kid I always imagined that everyone else were robots and I was the only real person in the world, and that when I wasn’t with them, no-one else was doing anything, and the whole thing was a construct being secretly filmed. Machines. Not technological machines, biological robots that only existed in a drama of my own being. So I had imaginary enemies, and acquaintances.

Ever hear voices in your head?
Well yeah, but I think they’re the voice of my own consciousness. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, they only tell me to do relatively normal things like, “Do you think we should have some breakfast now?” They never say “Go down to Whitechapel and murder prostitutes and collect their entrails as trinkets.” They give me quite good advice. It’s the voice that comes out of my mouth I’m worried about.

What’s the most violent thing you’ve ever done?
When I was performing and I was still on drugs I used to smash bottles and stab myself with them, and cut out pigs’ heads and throw them into the audience, and smash up dead mice and birds with hammers and throw them into the audience, which would then lead sometimes to violent confrontations with said audience members.

One time this bloke who looked like fuckin’ George Foreman, in a cashmere coat, came up onto the stage. He picked up a goat’s head that was on the side of the stage and was about to bludgeon me with it, and I looked in his eyes and said “What are you doing, I’ve got to bring the next act on! This is so unprofessional!” And for some reason that worked, and he said “Oh, sorry…”, and I welcomed the next act on.

What’s the closest you’ve ever come to death?
Probably drug addiction. And hanging off the edge of a boat, taking one hand off, alternatively swapping hands to impress a bird. It was ridiculous.

Was she impressed?
No, she said this kind of behaviour prohibited her from getting involved with me. She was unimpressed. That was on a TV show I did called Cruise Of The Gods.

Didn’t you get fired from that?
Yes! I got into a fight with an Athenian lapdance club owner, because I’d been carrying on with the lapdancers, then stormed out without paying. He ran after me down the street, smacked me in the mouth – nasty little fight. I got off with passengers’ daughters on the boat, I fucked one of the dancers, got into a fight in a Turkish brothel, smashed a prostitute’s phone… it was all just chaos.

What’s your idea of hell?
Just being, really. Perpetuality. Unalleviated consciousness without ever being able to sleep or have something bludgeon your senses, like some intense sexual experience, or a hot air balloon.