Comedy is a tool of togetherness. It's a way of putting your arm around someone, pointing at something, and saying, 'Isn't it funny that we do that?' It's a way of reaching out.
You've gotta believe in yourself, and you just have to work harder at it than you've ever worked at anything before in your life. And if you keep doing that and keep believing in yourself, great things do happen.
I tried for a short time to be something I wasn't, and had no success with it. It's a practical solution to just be yourself.
I always wanted to live alone for a month in a lakeside cabin. In my fantasy, I enter a state of perfect peace and grow my own kale and stuff, but in real life, I think I might be very bored after four days.
I do get approached occasionally, but not a ton. I'm unrecognizable because I'm coated in cat hair and sweat. And there's a sort of yeti quality to my presence... so I don't think that people can see the face.
I only come up with things when I am talking to myself, which I do constantly. The sidewalk and the subway are the best places for this. I speak at full volume and then laugh at myself if I like what I just said.
I love doing impressions of politicians because the task is always to imagine the private lives of these people whose job it is to project an image of staunch, unflinching leadership and grace, and that's just not how human beings, in their heart of hearts, work.
I was very serene, and I still am, until I start talking in another voice, then suddenly I have a lot of volume and I'm frantic. But I didn't want to be one of those people who's always talking in accents in real life, so I started doing sketch comedy.
My couch is made of cat's hair. The cushions have been obscured, and it's made of salt-and-pepper fur. I can't have visitors. I can't ask people to sit on that couch because they become implicated in the furriness of it, and they're walking around, and it's not fair to people.