When you try to go back and watch improv on tape, it almost never feels as good as it did when a crowd was laughing at it.

Life gave me a weird path to walk and it wasn't a very traditional path and that's good, I enjoyed it greatly. But I don't think that it was anybody's traditional definition of success but I really am thankful for it.

If people tell me something is impossible, I just want to prove that. I want to know that that's for certain. I don't want to not do something because someone says I can't.

I think people kind of come up and go, "Why hasn't that person busted out?" Almost always at the end of career, what you find out is that either consciously or subconsciously success hasn't happened because that person hasn't chosen for it to happen. Either through walking away because it wasn't the life they wanted or through self-sabotaging because they weren't ready.

I would say that in the past year I have had to begrudgingly admit that I am finally a success of some level, sure.

Talking about the fact that I get depressed or that I've had some suicidal issues in my life is not easy. I don't know of many comedians who are going all in on that. In some sense, I think I've maybe sacrificed some momentum doing that. In another sense, I'm in a place where if I can talk about that and if it helps some kid in a way that gives them some help that wasn't available to me when I was a kid, then I gotta do that. Put being a good person first. If you have a platform, use it for stuff that's noble and good and worth putting out in the world.

When young comedians ask me for advice that's the one thing I always say is if they're improvisers I'm like do improv, don't make that your sole thing. And at the end of the day when you do your best work you also just kinda, by definition flush it down the toilet and never do it again.