UPDATE: Tonight's Chonda Pierce performance at the Bill Heard Theatre has been canceled. If you want a refund, go to the point of purchase. That means if you bought it at RiverCenter's box office, go there. If you bought it online, go there.

Comedian Chonda Pierce is a “PK” or preacher’s kid. So it’s no wonder that she’s called “the Queen of Clean.”

She based her act on the late Minnie Pearl, the famous country comedian with the price tag on her hat.

When we talked to Pierce -- who grew up in Myrtle Beach, S.C., and in Tennessee and now lives outside of Nashville -- she was in Daytona Beach, Fla., getting ready for her next gig.

Like many people who tour, she often wakes up in the morning, wondering where she is. But she says that happens when she wakes up in her own bed, too.

So exactly what does she talk about in her show?

“Men, menopause and Jesus,” she said, laughing. “That’s not just talk. It’s my life. I love that people have stuck with me. And that people will take the time to buy a ticket.”

Now 52, Pierce admits she often feels every year of her age, but said that doesn’t stop her from working constantly.

“People ask when I’m going to retire,” Pierce said. “I don’t know. I still get work.”

When asked what makes a person a good comedian, she said, “You have to observe life often and in great detail.” It helps that she loves the “art of comedy.”

Pierce travels by bus and she has to have some Southern food in the pantry. While she’s in Columbus, she’s going to “stock up on grits and sweet tea.”

She also has her faithful companion with her -- a Malti-poo named Jack Bauer. “I miss ‘24,’ ” she said.

She calls her bus “a trailer with a driver” and said that after traveling with seven other people, it becomes “a big, rolling toilet.”

After her show, you can find her in the lobby, talking to fans.

“I try to make up for what I said on stage,” she said. “I’m apologizing to the church people who got their feelings hurt. I’ll stay until the last person leaves.”

Pierce has always been a talker.

“My mother wanted me to sing, not talk,” she said. That didn’t work.

As for teaching Sunday School, “my church wouldn’t let me near a Sunday School class.”

A member of the World Outreach Church in Murfreesboro, Tenn., she dreams of creating a new reality TV show called “Church Survivor.”

She’s keeping the premise of it a secret so Jeff Probst won’t steal it from her.