Every dude in here has had a fantasy about Jessica Simpson. Here's mine: Jessica, hold your sister Ashlee so I can kick her in the throat.

You see a guy with one leg, he's got a story. "Land mine '69." You see a guy with one arm, he's got a story, too. "Snow blower, bottle of whiskey." You see a guy with one tooth, what would the story be? "Well, uh, I like a lot of taffy."

Sometimes. I get recognized, but I'm not really a famous famous. I'm pretty low on the showbiz totem pole - I mean, I'm no Jon or Kate plus eight. I'm just a comic, not a baby factory.

I never wanted to be famous.

Next time your lady leaves the room, take a dump on the floor! 'Cuz there is nothing more mysterious than a dump on the floor! And it always starts a conversation, am I right? Honey, what happened? You better hold me 'cause I'm afraid.

I hang out with my dad mostly, my dad was in the military. He's at that age now where his war stories and other stories have blended together, so now you don't know what he's talking about. One time, we were surrounded, then we ran out of ammo, then we were fighting hand-to-hand, then we started dancing, and that's how I met your mother.

So I took her back to my place and we did it doggy style, not because we planned it that way, but that's just how she passed out.