Karaoke is the great equalizer.

I was raised by a single dad, so I've always just kind of liked "guys" stuff. I think my dad just took me to the things he was interested in.

When one is undone—sprawled across the cold tile of a public bathroom in a pool of one’s own vomit, or shivering in the back of a taxi in a pair of urine-soaked skinny jeans with no money for cab fare and a dead cell phone battery—much like a wobbly toddler or an unhinged politician, one immediately looks for someone else to blame. God. Your parents. Ex-girlfriends. Undocumented immigrants. Marvin in Human Resources. China.

I like to be nice. I want to be a hero. I want to save people. Or just kill zombies, because they deserve it, because they're already dead and they can't feel it. They don't have feelings.

I can tell you this: Stand-up is not glamorous.

I love Toronto. I love it. I love Toronto. I love Canada. I can't wait to get back. Can't wait to have some Timbits.

So much of a stand-up's life is doing live radio and having to be funny and quick on the spot with these strangers, and sort of surgical in terms of how funny I can be in three minutes.