I am stressed because once I am flattened out so thin to be able to slide under a doorway, I may never be able to ever be unflattened so I could be regular sized again.

I'm a believer that when one door closes another one opens. But why does the one opening always hit me full-speed-knob-first into my nuts?

My humor was kind of from my dad and all the stuff that we went through, which was a lot of death. My humor was an escape.

I think when you dissect a joke too much, you have ruined whatever there is in comedy.

I have a feeling I'm going to wake up one day and say 'I can't do dirty stuff anymore, I want to go all clean.' I'll do clean stuff too, I like to entertain people. Then they egged me on; we shot it at The Laugh Factory.

My confidence wavers between being genuine and being insecure.

It's okay to get stoned, as long as its not by other people.