I once called construction companies to bid on an addition to the school library so that there would suddenly be people outside, measuring the building. 'Who authorized this?' the principal would ask. The answer: 'Howie Mandel.'

We sat down and told stories that happened to us in our childhood, to our children. They were all basically based on the truth. These stories were funny and poignant to us. They just took off. These are all stories from my life.

The doctor heard my heartbeat and found out I had an irregular heartbeat. I was not symptomatic or aware of my symptoms. I had no idea that this could make me five times more likely to have a stroke than somebody who doesn't have this.

I once missed an appointment because I left my house, I locked the door. And then I thought, like anybody else, you know, 'I don't think I locked the door.' I just kept going back to the door. And I couldn't stop myself from checking and checking.

One of the great pleasures of having children is spending one-on-one time with them. Sadly, I could do that for only a few minutes at a time. I'd never say that ADD/ADHD is a gift or a blessing. And if someone says it is a gift, I'd love to return it.

Some version of 'Deal or No Deal' airs in 120 countries. And they play it exactly the same way, with models and briefcases. It crosses language and culture and gender, because it's the simplest game in the world, and everyone wants to press their luck.

I may be more passionate about my comedy because that's the one place where I feel comfortable - because I'm in the now. Performing is the only time of the day when I have to really force every ounce of concentration into whatever's happening in that moment.

I have thoughts - obtrusive thoughts and rituals that have to - it's like a broken re - a skipping record. And if these thoughts or these triggers happen to me through maybe shaking a hand or just a thought or just - then I can't get past it and move on with my life.

I love voice-acting - I can go to work without wearing pants. Although I did wear pants during Gremlins. But it's always more comfortable to work without. And if you notice, I relate to Gizmo in that way because he also works without pants. I have furry little legs, too.

After I impulsively revealed that I have OCD on a talk show, I was devastated. I often do things without thinking. That's my ADD/ADHD talking. Out in public, after I did the show, people came to me and said, 'Me, too.' They were the most comforting words I've ever heard.

I'm fascinated by mankind. I grew up watching 'Candid Camera' and thought it was funnier than any standup, any joke, anything that could possibly be written because you're dealing with humanity. And people can relate to that. It touches everybody who sees it. It hits a nerve.

I was kind of a misfit, actually. When you're young, you want to be like everybody else, and I was like nobody else. I couldn't sit still. I was impulsive. I still am. What is now called a 'talent' did not serve me well as a child. I didn't have friends. I was really an outcast.

What is the luck of the draw that me - me - who finally writes a book, it comes out in the - in the - in the time, in the center of the first pandemic, H1N1? And I'm going out on signings, and I'm going out to the public. This is the one time when I need to be hermetically sealed.

There isn't anybody out there who doesn't have a mental health issue, whether it's depression, anxiety, or how to cope with relationships. Having OCD is not an embarrassment anymore - for me. Just know that there is help and your life could be better if you go out and seek the help.

I think the thrust of any child is to try to fit in and be part of it. And I can't tell you how many times my humor, you know, what I thought was humor ended up making me the outsider. Like I'd be, I go, 'It's a joke.' And they'd go, 'Well, what was funny?' And they just thought I was insane.

Regardless of what I do, whether I write a book or whether I act or whether I host, I'll always do stand-up comedy because those moments, that's what I crave. If I do something funny, and I hear a crowd laugh in that moment, we're all sharing the exact same experience and the exact same feeling.

I was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADD/ADHD) and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) as an adult, but I don't remember a time when I didn't have them. Back in the 1960s, when I was growing up, my symptoms didn't have a name, and you didn't go to the doctor to find out.

In the mid-1970s, there was this huge boom of stand-up comedy throughout North America. I went to see a show at a club called Yuk-Yuks, in Toronto, and I was just fascinated. I ended up coming back for amateur hour on a Monday at midnight and got up there without any thought as to what might come of it.

I was always incredibly obsessed with germs and cleaning and taking shower after shower after shower. Even when I was very young, I wouldn't tie my shoelaces because they had touched the ground. I had continuous repetitive thoughts that I couldn't get past. As a child, my mind was a lot busier than I was.

I'm always in a hotel room, and I spend a good portion of my day setting it up so it's comfortable for me. Whether that means making paths out of towels so I don't touch the carpet or removing the comforters or just not touching things. Even sitting on a plane with a bunch of other people - it's really hard for me.

'Deal or No Deal' works nicely with my ADD/ADHD symptoms. I show up, meet the contestants, and move around the set. I'm not stuck behind a pedestal reading trivia questions. I've always had problems sitting still and listening for long periods of time. The show spares me these challenges. I can live in the moment. It's like a standup act.

My parents both had a great sense of humor, and always laughed a lot. One night, when they were watching Candid Camera, I finally understood what comedy was all about. I heard the laughter on television, I turned around and saw my parents laughing, and that's when I thought: 'This is great. This is what I can do. I'm gonna prank somebody.'

If my mom came here today, she'd probably join this red-hat brigade. My mother got my sense of humor, even when I was a kid. I would just do things that tickled my fancy in the moment, and she would ask me who I was entertaining. I'd say, 'Well, me.' And she would tell me that nobody knew that and they thought I was psychotic. Well, I don't ever want people to think I'm psychotic, but I can't help myself from doing these things.

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