To my friends and family:

Before I say anything else, I just want tell you all that I love you. Or, rather, I loved you. So much. This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own. You’ve meant the world to me. Everything I was was because of you. I’ll cherish each and every moment I spent with you, the good times and the bad, for all of eternity.

Unfortunately, the time has come for me to say goodbye. I’m sorry it had to end like this. Please try to understand. I’ve tried so hard. So hard pretending to be something I’m not. Almost an entire year, living a lie. Living in agony. Fighting the urges. Ignoring the voice in my head that kept yelling, “DO IT, JOE! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO! JUST DO IT AND GET IT OVER WITH!”

I tried to be strong, but I guess I wasn’t quite strong enough.

The urge overtook me. I lost control. And now I’ll never see any of you again.

Last night, I bought a Nintendo Wii from the Toys R Us on Broadway. It’s everything I dreamed it would be. But, because no one ever wants to come to Queens, and I don’t plan on ever leaving my apartment again, I guess this means goodbye. It was a pleasure having known all of you. I’ll always love you. I couldn’t go on living a lie. This was how it had to end. I wish you all long and happy lives. And even though I won’t be here with you anymore in person, just remember that I’m in a happier place now (and that place is Super Mario Galaxy).

I’m so sorry. Wii is so tight.

Yours in spirit,

Joe

PS: I named my console “Joe Mandwii,” so I should probz go ahead and kill myself for realsies.

Lil Wayne’s next album doesn’t drop until at least next February, yet that hasn’t stopped the album art from already leaking out onto the internet. And from the looks of it, it’s going to be his gayest album yet.

“ONLEE DA TRU THUGZ WERR MAIKUP.”

PLEASE GOD LET THIS BECOME A TREND.

Swish. Count it.

Eek? Whatevs. I don’t care, he’s still my #1 friend crush.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m doing a show tonight in the city where lawyers get fired for having A.I.D.S. of brotherly love. Since that’s where you live, I’m sure I’ll see you there. Please sit as far in the back as possible. Thank you.

Love,
Joe

Here is all the information:

(Still)Born in the USA Comedy Tour
Tuesday, October 9th, 2007
Philadelphia, PA
The Khyber Bar: 56 S. Second Street 
8 PM - $8

with: Jonah Ray (Human Giant and The Sarah Silverman Program)
Sean O’Connor
Nick Maritato
Andrew Wright
Chris McDevitt
w/ guests
Your son: Joe Mande, His friend who came to Passover: Noah Garfinkel, Kent Haines, Jimmie Allinder and Wrestling Team

Every once in a while when you take the subway in New York City, the train stops without warning and remains idle for a very long time. Eventually, a fuzzy voice comes on the intercom and informs the passengers that the delay is from someone on the train having a medical emergency. The fuzzy voice then thanks you for your patience and promises things will be moving shortly. Obviously, it’s annoying to be late for work, but it’s important to put yourself in the position of the sick person; at the very least, you’d expect people to be understanding and accommodating while you were trying to get off a train and into a hospital.

Anyway, a delay of this sort occurred on my ride to work this morning. I was aboard a packed N train, listening to my iPod and reading Newsweek, when the conductor suddenly hit the brakes and everything came to a screeching stop. This happens a couple times a month, so I thought nothing of it. But, after about 10 minutes I realized we still hadn’t moved. I looked up from my magazine to see what was going on. To my surprise, I noticed there was a good 10-15 foot clearing around me on all sides. People were backing away from me like I was some sort of monster, all of them staring at me with looks of terror on their faces.

Turns out, I was the one having the medical emergency! Apparently, I had been barfing. A lot. Like, it was all over the place. I guess I was so caught up in what I was reading I didn’t notice that every time I exhaled, a thick arc of vomit was exploding out of my mouth. God, I felt like such a doof. There must have been three or four gallons of my vomit on the floor.  Soooo embarrassing!

I think all the uncontrollable barfing was just my body’s natural reaction to reading an editorial piece written by actor Michael Douglas in the latest issue of Newsweek entitled, “The Role of a Lifetime.” In it, we discover that Michael Douglas thinks a weekly news magazine is the perfect forum to publish the first draft of his family’s Christmas Newsletter.

(Warning: If you read this, you will probz barf.)

I’ve been married for seven years to an extraordinary woman 25 years younger than me, actress Catherine Zeta-Jones. We have two children, a daughter, 4, and a son, 7. To say my priorities have changed would be a gross understatement!…They are at a precious age, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it…Carys is at the stage when she’s discovered “dress-up”: purses, high heels–anything pink. Dylan is a big climber–rocks, mountains and trees. He loves the outdoors. I read with my kids every night. That has become a favorite for me.

Awww. That’s great, Michael Douglas! I’m so glad this is in a news magazine! What else, pray tell, is new with the Douglas fam?

We’ve moved to the island of Bermuda, where I spent a lot of time as a kid.

Who didn’t spend a lot time in Bermuda as a kid? Seriously though, how has your life changed since you moved to back to Bermuda?

I adjust my schedule to my wife’s, since she is in the prime of her career.

Wasn’t the prime of her career back when she was in movies and stuff? Whatever. All I really want to know is this: what is it like for Michael Douglas to be a day-to-day daddy? 

The kids know what Mommy does for a living, but they have never seen Daddy’s movies (they’re too young), so Mommy makes movies and Daddy makes pancakes!

HAHA! Daddy makes pancakes! Really? Michael Douglas making pancakes. That’s wonderful. 

I don’t really cook, but I am the takeout and home-delivery expert.

SO THE TRUTH COMES OUT!  You sly dog, you. Of course you don’t cook. That is too funny. All jokes aside, what about you, Michael Douglas? How are you doing? Didn’t moving to Bermuda make it impossible for you to do acting work? What about the projects you really care about?

Don’t get me wrong. I still go to work, but now only on projects I really care about. I have a new movie coming out called “King of California.” We filmed it in only 31 days, not like some of the 90-day shooting schedules of the past.

Thank God. That’s fantastic. Hey, could you possibly tell me more about this “King of California” project?

I play a father who reconciles with his 17-year-old daughter, played by Evan Rachel Wood. I understood and identified with the role. My oldest son from my first marriage, Cameron, who is 28, did not benefit from my new priorities. He was shortchanged. Nevertheless he understands now, and he knows how much I love him.

Well, if he doesn’t know, all he has to do is read Newsweek like the rest of us. 

When I went to college at the University of California, Santa Barbara, in the 1960s, you could graduate with a degree in home economics. It was eventually disbanded largely due to politics and the power of the women’s movement.

What?

I’m happy to see that “home ec” is currently being revived at some colleges.

Seriously, Michael Douglas, what the fuck are you talking about?

Basically, you want to try to leave this earth having given more to it than having taken away. That makes you a good citizen of the planet. If I can pass this on from generation to generation, that’s as close to immortality as I can hope to get.

Oh, really? You really think that? You don’t possibly think your two Oscars might immortalize you? Oops, guess what? You just got PLIPPS. And so did your kids. Even the damaged 28 year-old. PLIPPS. Also, the entire staff at Newsweek for letting this get published…PLIPPS. PLIPPS. PLIPPS. 

Did you hear about that Chris Benoit guy who strangled his whole family and killed himself last week? Yikes! Who saw that coming?

Weird, he looks super stable.

This quote was in Time Magazine:

He then added, “I mean, Chris was normal guy…who took steroids and strangled people for money. That’s the Chris I know. But, going berserk and choking those close to him? I just don’t see it.”

As a lot of people know, my second favorite thing about living in New York (after Grey’s Papaya) is going to the annual Gay Pride Parade…with my girlfriend, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, I could not attend this year’s festivities because I was home, with my girlfriend, celebrating Father’s Day.

Such inconsiderate scheduling, and not just for me. I mean, gay dads exist. What’s a gay dad supposed to do when the parade is planned on Father’s Day? He probably wakes up, brushes his teeth, puts on the silly glasses and special leather g-string he laid out the night before, totally ready to jump on a float and writhe with other men for the whole afternoon. Then he walks downstairs to find his two children making him breakfast.

Children: Happy Father’s Day!
Gay Dad: Oh! Thank you, kids. That’s so sweet.
Children: We made you breakfast!
Gay Dad: Wow! Uhm…would you mind rolling it up in a tortilla or something? I actually have to go to this thing right now.
Children: But, we bought you a present.

Gay Dad opens the present. It’s a bottle of shampoo.

Gay Dad: Shampoo?
Children: Well, last year you kept saying how hard it was to get all the semen and glitter out of your hair.
Gay Dad: You are the best kids a gay dad could ask for.

They hug.

Gay Dad: But, seriously kids, I have to go grind with men on the back of a flatbed and pour Dasani on myself. I’ll catch up with you later, though. Kisses!

The end.

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