I've been doing stand-up just about every night since I started in 1989. It's my home base. But I'm into doing comedy in all mediums, platforms and situations.
In late 2004, I left my much-maligned home state of New Jersey for the supposedly greener pastures of Astoria, Queens. I'd finally be in the mix, living off the subway line, able to go from audition to audition during the day and from late night show to late night show in the wee hours of the morning.
Night in. I'm really kind of a homebody.
When we foster an economy without hope, we guarantee that a segment of our population will be destined to know homelessness on a permanent basis, and not for the one night I voluntarily spent at a shelter.
On my first night at boarding school, I felt entirely alone. I was shocked, frightened and intensely homesick, but I soon discovered that expressing these emotions, instead of bringing help and consolation, attracted a gloating, predatory fascination.
I was so nervous on the night of my honeymoon, I put my pants to bed, and I hung over a chair.
The band would play on the night off for the local hotel bands and we'd back all the different acts. So I'd been advised by good friends of mine to come back to Hawaii. Oh, I loved Honolulu, playing at a place right on the beach at Waikiki!
In the hierarchy of public lands, national parks by law have been above the rest: America's most special places, where natural beauty and all its attendant pleasures - quiet waters, the scents of fir and balsam, the hoot of an owl, and the dark of a night sky unsullied by city lights - are sacrosanct.
On the night of 4 November 2008, Barack Obama was elected on a platform of 'hope' and 'change.' He was hailed as a 'uniter' in an age of 'dividers.' I experienced a political awakening that night. I watched as the hope that President Obama represented was tempered by the shocking passage of Proposition 8 by a majority of voters in California.
Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.
It's always nerve-wracking when you're hosting 'Saturday Night Live.' You either sink or swim.
I worked at a hot dog place, a bagel place, the Jersey Store and the hottest fashion joint around. I was getting too famous to work there anymore. I was almost showing up as a joke. I made $2,000 on my show the previous night and I'm going to go shopping during my five-hour shift.
I stayed in a really old hotel last night. They sent me a wake-up letter.
It was so boring, and 'Dragonheart' was so unchallenging - there was no research involved or any rehearsal. So I was in my hotel room every night with no English-language TV except 'Beavis and Butt-head' at 10 o'clock every night.
You don't see a lot of super-high-end hotels being built in Houston because it's so expensive to build, unless you're in New York and can charge $1,000 a night.
If I can make people forget whatever they're dealing with for an hour and a half, two hours every night, that's nice.
My favourite animal would probably be - probably be a dingo. Because I like how in the night you can - at the zoo, you can hear them howl and stuff like that. It's just amazing.
When you hear that howl alone at night in the forest, it's one of the most frightening sounds you'll ever hear.
Going across the Tannai Desert was one of the spookiest experiences I've ever had. Not driving during the day; that was fine. And so we camped in an old sort of truck siding, I think. And the silence. The eerie silence and then a dingo howling, and it was just so spooky. I didn't sleep all night.
By reading Huckleberry Finn I felt I was able to justify my act of going into the mountain forest at night and sleeping among the trees with a sense of security which I could never find indoors.
