Growing up, road trips with Dad were something I hated. Sitting still for hours, singing that stupid song, "100 bottles of beer on the wall. 100 bottles of beer..." Dad, you know, keeping up with the song.

I lost 28 pounds in my divorce... because that's what a soul weighs.

Every weekend, I would get the drunk driving lecture. Of course, Dad drank and drove all the time. I guess it wasn't a lecture; it was helpful tips from the master.

I gave my father a heart attack. It was a practical joke. Come on, you push a guy's face in a cake he's got to clean it off. You hit a guy with a water balloon, he's got to dry off. Guy's in the hospital, you get his testicles shaved, he scratches and bleeds for a week... it's funny... you're not supposed to have a heart attack, it kills the joke.

The day I'm in England performing, English security let a man in a Batman suit climb Buckingham Palace. I felt so much safer... Batman was on the wall of Buckingham Palace for five hours. Wouldn't happen in America - three minutes: dead Batman.

My mom was crazy. And her mom was crazy. And her mom's mom was crazy. Is it my turn? Am I going to live the rest of my life giggling at raindrops, wearing paper slippers ? When I go to dinner with friends, should I not use a fork 'cause I just might snap? Hey, you guys look great. How's the baby?

I love being from a screwed up family. We have everything in my family: prescription drug abuse, mental illness, one of my uncles is a Mormon.