Well I grew up in Canada in a really small town. We didn't have running water for a long time and we didn't have TV. Then when we did get TV we only had one channel.

Cocaine is yucky. I did it once: I was at a party; I was bored. I was like, 'Alright, I'll do a line.' Then I was just bored longer.

My sister is also retarded. Across the board. She's a one hundred per cent, honest to goodness, born that way retard. I learned a long time ago that if you're going to tell a story about your retarded sister, you need to mention she's retarded right off the bat or inevitably, at the end of the story, someone will say, What... is she, retarded? And then you have to go, Uh... yeah, she is. Followed by a lengthy, awkward silence.

When you're pregnant, people feel like they can come up and give you unsolicited advice. When I was nine months pregnant, this one woman came up and she said, I have one word for you: epidural. And I was like, Oh my God, thanks. But we already picked a name.

My sister might be dumb, but that doesn't make her all that different from the rest of us. She's just like any other American. Except she's Canadian. And retarded.

I've been called a racist before, and let me tell you something - that is harsh. That's a really ugly thing to call someone. That's like being called a Mexican.

I've always wanted to be a writer. Always been very creative. I always laughed at things that the rest of my family would sort of get angry, like not understand.