You get all excited to give her the ring, and it's real emotional, and you give it to her, and she cries. And a second later, you're like, 'Damn, I could have had a car.'

My dad is actually a manic depressive, which is very exciting half the time.

They are not testing comics for drugs. If our job is dependent on that, there would be three working comics in the country, and two of them would have puppets.

I think most other comics are like, 'I'm going to do my fkin' act and that'll be that.' With me, it's like, 'What if I forget my jokes? What if I can't pull it together? This is going to be a fking disaster!'

We live in an age where people are like, "I'd love to catch up. Maybe text me later? But don't call because I don't really listen to my messages. But if you text me..." We've displaced interaction into sound bites and untethered phrases and sentences that come up on the phone as Twitter feed.

Jokes do finish themselves. I really do see them as ongoing conversations about personal themes that I ruminate on.

I always thought I was funny, but I was very sensitive, and very provocative just to get a rise out of people.