Michelle Wolf is suddenly both singular and ubiquitous. The comedian doesn’t look (the Howard Stern–meets–Connie Britton hair), sound (the “apologizing for someone else bumping into her and spilling her drink at a loud bar” voice), or joke (her decidedly not-nice HBO special Nice Lady) like anyone else in comedy. Which is probably why she’s suddenly everywhere: hosting the Trump-less White House Correspondents’ dinner tomorrow and preparing for her new variety show, The Break, which premieres May 27 on Netflix. It feels like the only two things Wolf has left on her to-do list before world domination are this interview with GQ and getting her pants off.

Michelle Wolf: Sorry for the delay. I was trying on leather pants and got stuck.

GQ: I saw you at a Pure Barre session in the West Village one time. If you’ve made it into leather pants, the lifting, toning, and burning is clearly working for you.

I love a barre class. I can’t get enough of ’em.

In the next two months, you’re hosting the White House Correspondents’ dinner and premiering The Break.

Uh-huh.

Am I making you tense? Should I change the subject?

I mean, it’s all really great. I’m just hoping to not squander any opportunity—I feel like some of these things only come along once.

It’s an interesting time to host the Correspondents’ dinner. Obviously, Trump’s not going to be there, but do you think about him hearing your jokes? Or are you just worried about the people who are in the room?

I’m not so much worried about any of the people—including Trump—that I’m telling jokes about. I’m more worried that the jokes go over well. And I’m not even talking about in the room; I’m talking about when people watch it on TV and are like, “Oh, that’s funny.”

How weird that you’re delivering the jokes to the people the jokes are about, not the intended audience.

Oh, yeah. I’m expecting it to not play well in the room.

How do you prepare yourself to tell jokes that are gonna sound like they’re bombing, but that maybe means they’re working?

Be lucky enough that you’ve done plenty of corporate events where you know how that feels.

I feel like right now audiences in general are just so much more sensitive. Roy Wood Jr. said, “I have to decide how much of an argument I want to get into with the audience.” So when do you employ self-protection and when do you just go, “Fuck it! This is the joke I want to make!”

Any time I’m telling a joke that I could potentially get in trouble for, I try to cover the argument that I think they’d make. Like with my Hillary joke from my HBO special, Nice Lady, where I call her a bitch. Then I say, “That’s good!” [The joke: “I do have a theory on why Hillary lost—I think it’s ’cause no one likes her. You shouldn’t like Hillary. She’s a bitch. You have to be a bitch to be that powerful. We’re never going to have a nice lady run for president. Nice ladies aren’t in charge of things, and if you’re in charge of something and you think you’re a nice lady, no one else does.”] I try to present things in a way where they’re like, “I hadn’t thought about it that way. And the one thing I was gonna get mad about, you justified.” But then I see that they get mad at stuff that it’s unbelievable that they’d get mad at. And you’re like, “Yeah. No. You’re just not for my comedy.”