I first came across Limmy in high school when my pal’s big brother showed us his Birthday Card sketch on YouTube. We didn’t even fully understand why it was so funny, but we were pissing ourselves laughing. From that point, I was hooked on everything Limmy put out. Perhaps the thing I admire most is the way he assured us you could be pretty surreal at times and still have folk get it. His comedy showed that it didn’t always have to make total sense, or it could be a bit weird, but people would still connect with it.

There’s plenty of stuff similar to what I do, but I’ve yet to come across something that portrays working-class Glasgow like Limmy does: that dark, absurd humour mixed with everyday life, which is exactly the world I grew up in. Last year, I finally read his autobiography and I was howling the whole way through. I could just imagine a posh editor giving feedback on the first draft, saying ‘maybe we can leave out the chapter about having your first wank?’

There’s a bit where he talks about being on a bus coming back from T In The Park, on a comedown as people shouted out quotes from his sketches. That was very relatable and made me shudder. I also really related, like most writers in Scotland, to all the struggles of trying to get stuff made on TV, specifically made the way you want it. Even though it’s on a much smaller scale for me, these experiences were so specifically relatable. I also love how he talks about not wanting to do anything ever again. I think he’s earned that right.

Paul Black: All Sorts, SEC, Glasgow, Friday 22 November.