Northern New Jersey looks like a cluster of idyllic suburbs, but each of those seemingly normal towns has a dark side that's constantly gossiped about but never publicly acknowledged. They seem to thrive on their strangenesses.
As a largely unsuccessful comedian, I've become someone that younger people sometimes find and ask for advice, which I'm happy to give, even though it makes me feel old.
I've exceeded the expectations people had for me as an unconfident runt who grew up in North Jersey as well as the expectations I had for myself.
I get to do comedy for a living.
I quit drinking in 2002, mere months before my college graduation.
I'm very happy with my decision to go sober. It's helped my life. It's helped my mental stability.
In 2010, I was the star of a sitcom. It came and went pretty fast. But in the months from when I was cast in the sitcom through when it was done airing, my life did change remarkably.
Having money didn't make me less of a socially incapable loser; it just made me a socially incapable loser who wasn't in debt.
The bad you see in N.Y.C. is troubling to know when it rears its ugly head.
Any notable moments spent on a subway usually do nothing more than expose human awfulness at its most pronounced.
The stereotype of New Yorkers is that we're people who avoid warm human interaction, we're always in too much of a rush to enjoy simple things, and that we're just generally rude.
Bedbugs have never been cool, and bedbugs will never be cool.
There are certain fundamental things that scream, 'I just moved to New York.' Things like eating cheesecake at Junior's or heading out to Coney Island to ride the Cyclone.
Shows are my saving grace. In between actual jobs, the only thing that keeps me sane is the knowledge that I can go up on stages.
I feel like a lot of performers' worst shows happened in Philly. There's something about that town.
It's a fun uphill struggle, making health insurance as a comedian, actor, and author. But it's hard to explain to people how I make a living. In New York, most people know enough creative types that I make some sense. But when I'm talking to someone like my suburban cousins or my mom's friends, it doesn't always go smoothly.
The UCB has long been known as a hub of the best comedy in New York City, but it's never been the most well organized or cared for place in the world.
Bits are fake conversations comedians have because they are uncomfortable being vulnerable with other human beings in any way.
By August of 2003, I had graduated from Rutgers, gone through a stretch of living at my parents' house, and wound up sharing an apartment with a college friend of mine in Montclair, New Jersey.
I will never forget what happened on August 14, 2003. I know the exact sequence of where I was for every moment of that evening. It was a tragic day, and it's burned into my memory. Many people might remember that date, vaguely, as the date of the infamous eastern seaboard blackout that plunged all of New York City into darkness.
