So, last night I was named Emerging Comic of 2007 at the ECNY Awards at Comix Comedy Club. I did not expect to win at all, so it came as a complete and thoroughly pleasant surprise. (Of course, I suspect my dad probably pulled a Veruca Salt, making all the workers in his factory vote for me online over and over again for weeks on end.) Plus, the prize bag had a huge bottle of Macallan in it, which was tight.

By far, the best moment of the night–if not my life–was when the category for Emerging Comic was presented by the famous bloodied-nose rocker Andrew W.K. It was unreal. He gave a short, heart-felt speech about his love for comedy and and the entire comedy community as a whole. Then he opened the envelope and read my name. It will remain as one of my most special memories for as long as my brain still works.

As I do with all my special memories, I’ve turned it into an animated gif file. Enjoy.

In theory, I should love cheesecake. I love cheese and I love cake, but for some reason the combination of the two has never won me over. It certainly tastes great, yes. But the problem is its unwieldiness. You can’t just pop cheesecake in your mouth and call it a day. No, in fact, it’s not poppable at all. You need a fork to eat the stuff (sometimes even a knife), which as we all know is completely unacceptable. Cheesecake’s stubborn refusal to make that next logical step–to poppermorphosize, if you will–has, in my opinion, forever doomed it to be classified as an imperfect, sub-standard desert.

Or so I thought.

Problem solved. Thanks Arby’s.

PS: Nice work pairing it with ketchup.

As some of you may know, I haven’t been online a lot recently because I’m currently on the road with fellow comedian John Mulaney. We’re performing at a bunch of Midwestern colleges; places like St. Joseph’s College in beautiful downtown Rensselaer, Indiana (funny aside: didja know “Rensselaer” is the German word for “methlab?”). But I have to admit, The Road is fucking hard, you guys. It’s seriously so cold outside. Like, it hasn’t gotten above single digits. Plus, everything is covered in ash and all we have to eat is canned peaches. John has done a great job this trip keeping my spirits up while he struggles to push our grocery cart through the muck towards the sea, but sometimes in the mornings I hear him coughing up blood, and it makes me scared. I can’t face these cannibals by myself.

JK! It’s been a lot fun. For me, the highlight of the trip thus far was two nights ago, when we walked into North Central College’s Student Activities Center in Napersville, Illinois. The doors of the facility were decorated with drawings celebrating Martin Luther King Jr’s “I Have A Dream” speech. Adorably racist drawings. It said they were made by third graders asked to summarize MLK’s famous “I Have a Dream” speech, but a part of me thinks that maybe they were actually done by the students of NCC. We’ll never know for sure. No matter what, Dr. King’s dream will live on through these pictures, dissolving in and out as my computer’s screen saver until the end of time.

What’s up, indeed.

Well, no one likes sitting in the back of a roller coaster.

His real dream is white superman? What? Was he having a nightmare?

I don’t think he saw the world in terms of olives OR anchovies. I think MLK saw the world as one big, delicious supreme pizza.

Kids draw the darndest things. (Darndest means insensitive, right? For reals though, how the fuck did those pictures make it out of a classroom? Who is teaching American History to these little monsters, and is like “Olives or Anchovies? That’s an interesting interpretation, Bobby. Very good! I’m sending that one over to the college.” A Nazi-lady, that’s who.)

PS: If you’re in New York, you should go to this tonight. It’s our one-year anniversary.

As many of you (my fans) might imagine, having and maintaining an important and popular weblog such as joemande.com can sometimes feel like a full time job. Every morning, before I watch TV and read the Drudge Report for inspiration, I have to log on to my website and sift through literally thousands of reader comments. I do this despite the fact I could totally get a robot do it for me. Easily. But I don’t; I insist on doing it myself. I believe the major reason I emerged as a true comedic force in New York City in 2007 was because my fans (who are the BEST, by the way) were able to sense my influence, and personally connect with me as a genius, as they read and responded to my website.

Sadly, I’ve come to suspect that many of my “readers” are frauds. Phonies. A bunch of fake-ass posers. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little devastated by this realization.

You may have to look closely, but see if you can tell what’s wrong with the comments I got this morning:

That’s right. Not only are they needlessly repetitive, but they also all have the same IP Address! Can you believe that? Here I am thinking I’m making this personal connection with a slew of new fans–people like Black Pussy Black Lesbian Porn Fat Black Pussy and Anal Sex Anal Bleaching Black Anal–only to discover that they’re all probably written by the same person. A very fat lesbian with a beautifully bleached black ass.

I’m worried that a few of my more dedicated commenters–people like: Big Asian Lactating Tit Boobs, super bowl party decorations, Granny MILF Mom and Son Sex, Impressive grease broadway tickets, and Gay Horse Fuck, might all be pretenders as well. I pray that my worries are eventually proven to be in vain, but let’s just say I’m not optimistic.

Sometimes I wish all of my fans could act like antonio banderas biography? Talk about a classy commenter.

Textbook form: short, positive, complimentary. You can really tell that that book loves reading my blog, not to mention enjoyes hit films.

I just watched this 100 times, and…I think that might make me a sex criminal?

Quick recap: the polar ice caps are melting, the government is bankrupting itself, and kids are shooting each other in the face with cumguns.

Late last night, I was alone in my living room gathering star bits, when I received this email regarding something I wrote about Michael Douglas’ fucked up son last October.

Dear Joe:
I think what you posted about Michael Douglas’s son is really awful and that it would be cool of you to take down those comments on the mug shot at least. I love comedy, but that is really practically heartless. We don’t really know whose drugs those were and it’s not fair to judge someone so harshly. If they really are his drugs and he is on drugs, then he is probably at rock bottom and comments like yours could be what push him over the edge. He had an uncle who died of a drug overdose and this things is really a family tragedy and no laughing matter. It is so easy to make fun of people when they’re down, and not any sort of sign of comedic skill.

Will you please take it down? It would say a lot about you…
[Redacted]

Dear [Redacted],

Thank you for the email. I’m sad to say I cannot take that post down for you. Mostly because I don’t know how to do that. I’m sorry. But, please know that I do respect and understand your concerns. We live in a society where Hollywood fuckups are innocent until proven guilty. One shouldn’t rush to judgment, especially if one writes such an important and influential “blog” as joemande.com. (barf)

Therefore, what I decided to do for you is go back and fix the mugshot in question. I sincerely hope this helps Cameron Douglas not kill himself.

You’re welcome. Best of luck.

Proving racism still exists in America, New Hampshire voters made Hillary Clinton the surprise winner of last night’s primary, over Barack the Black Abe Lincoln. Pollsters and pundits had assumed all day long that Obama would carry the state because of the record turnout. But, it turns out the turnout preferred the more experienced Democratic candidate, who campaigns on a promise to use her barfy witch face to bring about certain doom and damnation upon the entire world.

Sorry, was “barfy witch face” too harsh? Explain this, then: