So, I'm 34. I'm kind of becoming an adult - kind of, I guess. But I know that I am because, the other day, I said to somebody, 'Dude, dude, don't - those are the good plates.

Trust yourself, because as Oprah says, doubt means don't every time

But he was so great!' Yes, and the people who got on the Titanic thought they were going on a vacation

As a guy I never liked being told to call, which my wife really never does, and that's why I call her as often as I do.

But what I can do is paint you a picture of what you’ll never see when you’re with a guy who’s really into you: You’ll never see you staring maniacally at your phone, willing it to ring. You’ll never see you ruining an evening with friends because you’re calling for your messages every fifteen seconds. You’ll never see you hating yourself for calling him when you know you shouldn’t have. What you will see is you being treated so well that no phone antics will be necessary. You’ll be too busy being adored.

I always say that I love magic but I hate magicians. I like being fooled. If you wave your hands in front of my face and I think you're doing a trick, I'm easily impressed. If you pull a quarter out of my ear, I'm quite certain you're a wizard. But I don't like the way most magicians don't act like they're magical; they act like show business dicks.

If I had butterscotch pants and a cheetah sweater... I'd be just fine.