Everyone thinks their baby is a genius. People find it delightfully refreshing when I tell them, My baby? Totally average. Like, 100 percent average.

You can be deported back to Canada, absolutely, for a shockingly minor infraction. Little bar fight. Next thing you know you are back in Sascatchuan. Which I'm not from, thank God... But it did concern me.

I don't necessarily need 400 pounds on my back in the squat rack, and then take a picture of myself and send it out to my Twitter followers, 'Part of the 400 pound club today.'

The woman is skin covered prozac I like to call her. Half the trick to a film like this is keeping a sort of emotional level going and keeping an attitude that induces creativity on the set. You have to be in a good mood for that. You have to be happy to make a comedy I think and Anne sort of ensured that every time by expressing most of her feelings through the exciting medium of dance.

I'm not one of those actors who romanticizes his trials working out and brags that he can bench press a panda now.

I believe in energy like dark energies. I believe that when a family moves into a house where six murders took place, there's going to be some bad juju in that house. But then again what the hell is wrong with you to be moving in that house to begin with?

I can't say I've ever finished a film and been particularly thrilled with myself or patted myself on the back. And maybe that's what keeps me going, and that's a good thing. It speaks volumes about how I perceive myself.