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.

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.

Your first leader is your dad. 'course he controls your food and shelter, so, he's not really a leader, he's more of a fascist dictator. But dictators have dreams too. Your dad doesn't. He gave them up when he had you. So remember that next time you say, I don't want to cut the lawn. Just shut up and mow the grass and save the lip for your teachers.

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.

Martha Stewart's a convicted felon and they gave her another television show. What's next, the Scott Peterson Fishing Hour?

Japan is the perfect example of make plans, and watch God laugh.

My first car was a 1977 Oldsmobile Delta 88. Ugly car. More ugly on this car than a Rolling Stones group photo.