We're having a traditional Thanksgiving - turkey, mashed potatoes, hat buckles, smallpox, genocide, a blue corn moon, etc.

I know it's the comedian's instinct to say, "Do it, man, nothing's off-limits! It's cool, bro!" I don't know if that's the answer for me. "Do I really want to make a joke about a miscarriage when a woman in the audience might have had one?" I don't worship comedy; at the end of the day I don't fall to the altar of comedy unquestioningly.

For me, if you distill comedy down, it is surprise and the unexpected. That has to be it on its most base level, in any form.

Once a week, I like to slip into a deep existential depression where I lose all my sense of oneness and self-worth.

For fifteen cents a day you can feed an African, they eat pennies.

I remember being superyoung, like nine or ten years old, and thinking, 'Man, I wonder what famous people eat for breakfast. They must have some special kind of cereal!' My mind was so warped by the idea of fame.

I'm not a grown up until everybody realises I'm a grown up. When everyone remembers me as the dirty kid singing little songs I am the dirty little kid.