''Maybe Andy's right. Not for the reasons he thinks, obviously. Obviously Andy is an awful, awful crotch of a man who will never be truly happy, who will die alone, in a chair, surrounded by framed pictures of him doing thumbs ups next to Top Gear presenters, the TV loudly tuned to Dave (the "home of witty comedy banter"), where David Brent is doing his arm dance again, and again, and again; the roar of regret echoing through Andy's carpeted rooms. But maybe women aren't meant to understand banter. Bants. Top bants. Is banter just "boy talk"? Is banter – classless, bruising banter – simply the sound of men being funny at each other? Why does banter exist? Why do men joke like this? Laugh at things that you're not meant to laugh at – insult each other, test their hetero skills? Are they taking the piss out of their own intimacy? Their very manliness? ''
- Eva Wiseman