My dad and I, we used to play baseball. I was the catcher. Which I liked. Until one day, I saw this game on TV, and I said, Hang on, how come their catcher doesn't have his hands tied to his ankles?

I've been at stand-up 26 years now: After a while, you get as jaded as the proverbial gynecologist who no longer enjoys drugging and violating his patients.

My jokes are in my head and I have a duplicate copy of my jokes in a lot of British comics' heads, where they are safe.

I'd be in the backyard minding my own business. The other kids would call me names, like meatball head or neo-Calvinist. I'd run after them, but lucky for them the chain would snap my neck back.

It's amazing where a joke might come from. I find a lot of humour just by metaphorically turning things upside down or literally like my wife's cat.

Recently, I've ventured into the mammal family - so that's good for my sex life.

I don't have to tell you folks about scuba diving. So, that'll save some time.