Hello and a very happy and joyful Tuesday in July to all of my friends in Cyberspace. It’s Anthony Mandich here. I’m going to make this very short and pretty fucking sweet. I have alot of painting to do tonight plus I have to call the beautiful girl in Wellington, New Zealand, that responded to my ad on NZ Dating today. LOL. That’s a very inside joke, one that I cannot at this time share due to statute of limitationary gobbledygook.
I need to give big shout out to my dear Aunt, Auntie Michelle Manire. She recently celebrated a birthday, and she looked bloody fabulous in the pics that followed her night of cocktails, sweater vests and long walks with Andy Fowle, her significant other. So here’s to ya Auntie Michelle. From your loyal and nearly God like nephew Anthony Mandich. I hope you have a wonderful night tonight and every night for as long as nights exist.
What else? I went to lunch today with an old old friend of mine by the name of Eric Kisner. Kizzy. Kizzy was and is a cool motherfucker. When I was a punk rock severely delinquent sophomore at Corona Senior High School, Kizzy could always be found in flagrant violation of the High School Code of Ethics regarding the smoking of cigarettes in undesignated areas such as the lockers in between classes. At the end of every class I would venture over to where he kept his locker and politely request a couple of hits off his Marlboro Red. Although he was a rocker dude and didn’t normally associate with human mohawked scum like me, Eric Kisner always showed mercy and kindness to his fellow human beings and gave me a couple hits. I like that.
Today I went to visit Kizzy at his place of employment which happened to be right next to the Glen Eden “Sun Club”, which if you are from this area, you know is really a fucking horrible little spot where fat, old, haggard, yuck, gross, wrinkled, asexual, Cougars and Cougmen hang out in the buff, completely fucking disgustingly naked and proud of it. Gross. But anyways, yeah Eric was driving this big tractor thing and doing something to fix this trout pond his boss owns. Apparently the water keeps disappearing from the man made pond/lake/puddle and it is causing the trout to die. I was shown the rotting carcass of one of the trout and Holy Mary Mother of God, it was fucking big man. I guess they stocked this little lake with 1800 pounds of trout. I’m talking about an area no bigger then half of an Olympic Sized swimming pool. Crazy shit.
So yeah we went to lunch and it was fun and we talked about old times and called Steve Jacobson, my son, and purposefully did not wish him a Happy Birthday, which I could totally tell he was waiting for but it was more fun not to. Then we made plans to go play poker real soon and I split.
Then I entered Sean Stenlake’s world for about two hours. We played baseball (badly by me), I went for a run in the middle of this baseball shit because I was feeling so out of shape and horrible I figured a brisk run in the 108 degree heat was just what I needed to finish the job of my destruction. Somehow I survived the winds of hell and made it back to play a little more baseball. Then I showed Sean some of my art videos and then we had a very interesting conversation about his friend Adam who got busted six years ago for counterfeiting by the Secret Service and was given the option of Prison or the Navy for SIX years. Just like the old days I thought. Anyway he is going to be getting out of the Navy next month so good for him!
I think that’s gonna do it for today even though I have much more to tell you about including my very lengthy conversation with Sade from Houston who telecommutes from home in her capacity as a Technical Support Person for Sprint. I talked to her for like 3 hours this morning and it was actually very cool. Her husband is entering the NFL Draft next year and yeah she is a cool chick.
Okay kids. bye bye