The Secret Life of Bee: one-on-one with The Daily Show’s Samantha Bee

Don’t let Samantha Bee’s sweet demeanour and cute name fool you. Being The Daily Show’s Most Senior Correspondent is a tough gig, one that requires a thick skin, merciless wit and cat-like improv reflexes. In her new memoir, I Know I Am, But What Are You? she describes the origin of her comedic success—an eccentric family and a misspent youth in Toronto.

You mined your childhood for your essays and included some pretty embarrassing anecdotes about your parents. Are you afraid your kids might return the favour and write a book about you one day? I’m terribly afraid of it. But fortunately, I’m a perfect parent, so I won’t have anything to worry about.

Your husband, Jason Jones, is your fellow correspondent on The Daily Show. You met in your 20s, when you were both touring Ontario with a live Sailor Moon show. It was an honourable living. Our relationship was forged in the fires of children’s theatrical performance mishaps. It was all about managing shame.

Do you sit around wondering who’s funnier? I’m definitely funnier than he is. We both know it. Growing up, you were obsessed with Jesus. Didn’t everyone love Jesus? He has a lot of charisma. In the Jesus of Nazareth miniseries, he was simply gorgeous.

Speaking of gorgeous men, Obama is making his first trip to Toronto at the end of June for the G20. I wish it coincided with my book tour. I could throw Molotov cocktails at storefronts. Or, um, something.

Any advice for Obama on how to deal with Toronto? Is everything going to be on lockdown? When President Musharraf was on The Daily Show, he sat behind bulletproof glass. But Obama won’t need that. Torontonians, we’re soooo nice. Except for our searing gazes. You know the look. The one that says, I’m thinking something, and you know I’m thinking something, but I don’t want to tell you. I just want you to know.