When I was seven, I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest with my mom. When Jack Nicholson was strapped to the table getting electroshock treatment, my mom burst into tears. She said it reminded her of her life, and I was stunned, because I didn't know my mom had been nominated for an Oscar.

By the way, six A.M.? Not a real great time for me; you know, I'm a comic. I get off work at two. Six A.M., I'm a little grumpy. Six A.M., I'm a little P.O.ed. Six A.M., I'm like a vampire with a paper route.

Jealousy - the Auschwitz of emotions.

I'm glad I was raised by my dad for other reasons, too. There are things you can learn from a father, as a son, that you can never learn from Mom. Special things, important things. Like "never challenge Dad to a fist fight.

And me having kids, with my family history? My mom: mentally ill, shot and killed her last husband. My father: six ex-wives, four heart attacks. Both of my parents think alcohol is a food group.

At the end of the Peterson trial, my daughter turns to me and she goes, 'Daddy, are you going to kill Mommy?' 'Oh, honey - that's up to mommy, isn't it?

If you ask my dad for help... he'll help. Like a vulture helps an over-run armadillo on a Texas highway. One peck at the time.