Bill Donohue lit into you, saying how pleased he was your celebrity stock had sunk.
Did my mom write that? I haven't ruled out that my mom is secretly the PR person for the Catholic League. I don't know who she's in bed with anymore. She's a ruthless climber in show business. She will stop at nothing.
I heard she is not living with you any longer.
She's back and forth between her place and my place. But it was a bitter pill, her telling me that she would not be cared for lovingly, by me, in her twilight years, but would really just be happier in her own place. She finds me annoying and, I guess, taxing.
Yet she is a prime source of your comedy — she's featured on your TV show.
I have beaten her down like a pound dog and convinced her that every time I make fun of her or make a joke at her expense, it helps me pay for my house, where she lives half the time. I try to make a direct link between her own survival and my jokes about her. I occasionally suggest if I'm not able to make jokes about her, she will be living in a state-run home within two weeks.
You do make fun of yourself, as well.
I'm my best subject. I can make fun of myself all day long. Even if one of my celebrities, like Lindsay Lohan, is behaving well for a week, I'm sure I will do something debasing.
What will you be doing in Boston?
I'll be riffing on whatever the news of the day is, anything from the latest politician to slip up to whatever's in the tabloids to my own personal run-ins with any celebrities that come my way. There will be lots of foul language. It is truly improvisational, as conversational as it seems, because that's the only way I know how to do it. I'm not a joke teller. I can't tell a one-liner to save my life.
