She, uh, came out of the closet recently, my niece. Um... She announced to the family that she's a lesbian and... She's seven, did I mention that? And, uh, I don't even know if she knows what a lesbian is, but I support her completely. And, uh... I'll tell you what's heartbreaking. My sister punished her for it. Can you believe that? No pussy for a week. Which to us may not sound like... But when you're seven, you know, a week is a long time.

I gave him a compliment! All right, I told him he probably would've made, like, a really expensive slave in the, like, in the olden-timey days.

I don't really like saying "the gays"... I'm not sure why. I suppose I say "the Jews." but I don't say "the blacks." I guess because I'm a Jew for all intents and purposes and to group people together of which I am not one in such a casual way feels disrespectful.

Someone on Twitter sent me a page from a textbook. It had a picture of a football player next to a picture of me. The juxtaposition was meant to illustrate two meanings of "offensive." Seriously. It broke my heart. It's that accepted what I do is offensive?

Comics who grew up surviving their childhood by being able to be the first one to make the joke about their weight or their hairy arms - like me - whatever they're insecure about, whatever they're apologizing for, that becomes their strength.

I didn't feel so different until maybe, like, around third grade. Kids started blaming me for my people killing Jesus.

It feels weird in our ear holes to hear people worshipping a guy named Ron. We know Rons in our life.