Weekends are about replenishment and rejuvenation. Time in Wales would definitely be part of my ideal weekend, at my own hotel, set in 72 acres of absolute gorgeousness. I can already feel the air working its magic, with the sea breeze drifting over us.
I would like to dive in Vietnam and Cambodia.
If I know I am going out in the evening, I'll save my shower till I am about to get ready, so I'm pristine. I'm not one for moisturisers and toners; the furthest I go is shampoo and conditioner and a bit of hair gel.
I have never been a major fashionista, but I love a suit, and I did have one made for me by the tailor Stephen Williams. The great thing about a bespoke suit is that it covers up my pot belly. When I buy a suit, I'll pick shoes, belt, tie, shirt and socks, and that will be what I always wear with it.
I feel secure in my life, and I'm happy with where I'm at. I realise in some ways how enchanted my life's been. I could have ended up on a bench outside Stoke station begging for money. I was one of the lucky ones.
I do know people who buy these huge houses but I always think, 'What about all that furniture? You're never even going to sit on it!' I don't want to rattle round in a big house.
We get the papers: I prefer broadsheets because I had the fear of God put into me by the tabloids and, though I'm very much over it, I still don't really like to read them. It's a destructive vernacular that makes me angry and scared, and it is all sensationalist onomatopoeia and alliteration.
My dad died 11 years ago, I don't see much of my brothers, and I rarely speak to my mum. I don't hold a grudge, but being separated in those early years clearly had an impact. Our relationship didn't develop as it ought to.
I've always wanted bigger shoulders.
Quite often, we're swamped with friends. My house is known as Hotel Morrissey, which is quite handy whenever I need dog-sitters for Tiggy. She's my tiny little rescue dog, the size of both of my feet put together.
I can't bear not to be liked, and I've always been a people pleaser.
I lived all my life thinking the reason I was in care was because I was naughty. Because I was breaking and entering, pickpocketing, vandalism. I wasn't party to any social workers' reports.
There are loads of kids out there who haven't got a clue what 'Men Behaving Badly' was; it was such a long time ago. So I'm able to spread my wings a little bit more. I was able to do it on stage over the years. Most directors and producers don't know who I am these days, anyway!
I pay attention to my nails. I have had this particular German nail kit for years, and I take it everywhere. If I don't trim and file my nails, they turn into talons. I cook a lot, too, and I don't like to see bits of food stuck under them.
I don't even like sitting in a taxi or on the tube when I've got a nicely ironed shirt on - I can feel the creases starting. I was taught to iron in the children's home I lived in - along with mopping, sweeping, and washing up. If you iron a shirt in order - collar, cuffs, yoke, sleeves and then body - it comes out all neat and gorgeous.
I was a kitchen porter for an hour at the Bank of England when I was 18. In the cafe, someone clicked their fingers and shouted, 'Boy, come and clear my table.' I walked out.
When I look back over my career, I just feel pleased that I'm still working and getting some good roles. It's been 30 years now, and a generation has grown up with me. There are kids who don't have a clue who I am, but they queue up and ask for my autograph and admit their mums love me! It's all good - I am having a ball.
I don't sit around and get depressed about things. It's not my character.
I know it's fashionable to blame your childhood for everything nowadays - thank you, Freud. The thing is, though, I really don't feel scarred by mine. But perhaps if I'd been in therapy for 10 years, and you were able to read the records, you'd disagree.
There's a lot of stigma attached to being in a home. Other parents don't want their kids to play with you because you're naughty or nasty.
