i just asked batchelder to give me a quote to name my blog post for the day and the best she could come up with is “why you so gay tony”. whatever. it works for me. so i haven’t been blogging lately even though i have been up to so much no good it’s insane but i haven’t even been close to a computer except to do work for my boss tom. so much shit has been going down i feel lucky to be alive and in one piece. drugs complete scandalous sexual liaisons with so many girls all of them crazy hustler chicks who work over dudes on a regular basis but have met their match with me who works over chicks on a regular basis so we all sort of even each other out. i can’t even give you all the names of the chicks because some of them are wanted by the law. this one girl who i have really been seeing quite a lot of is super hot as fuck and really smart but really gangsta as hell and way into really bad drugs. Met her at a casino in the inland empire. She is the only one that I have been with more then twice. i also have met two chicks from hemet at the same casino and had sex with one and just cuddled with the other one. Again not naming names cuz these chicks are sorta like skinhead chicks and they run with a bunch of crazy white power dudes. I’ve met like three of the dudes and they seem cool and all but there is always that element of danger around them and actually around the girls as well. I met a half Mexican half white gang banger chick at the same casino and we had a pretty insane adventure that involved me skateboarding at like 4:30 in the morning to the casino gas station to put five bucks gas in this chicks car so her and her three homies could make it home to Beaumont or banning or Yucaipa I’m not sure which one but definitely one of those three. Anyways I have no record for any kind of drug related offenses and I’m not on parole or probation so I still presumably have my 4th amendment rights which on this night came in pretty handy. I was bombing this rad little hill that leads directly into the gas station showing off for this sexy little mama whose name I will say which is heather. Truly the only reason I was doing this was because for some unknown reason the gas station although physically open was literally closed for ten minutes according to the clerk. So while we waited I skated. Makes sense to me. Well this one cop who had said hi to me like ten hours before while he was patrolling through the casino garage parking lot in his black and white followed me down the hill on my third attempt as I was skating over to this heather chick sitting in the car we were putting gas in. long story short the cop said he was surprised to see someone skating at this time of the morning which I didn’t give a shit about what he was saying because I wasn’t holding anything illegal and like I said I still have my rights. I was totally unconcerned even when he asked me if he could peek at my drivers license. I gladly gave it to him but I noticed out of the corner of my eye that heather was cringing and looking pretty unhappy. Turns out she had been busted for drugs and a bunch of other shit in 2007 and had been to prison and stuff and so she had search terms which basically for all you laymen means that the cops can tear up all your shit looking for contraband without having any reason whatsoever except that they want to. This cop was totally cool with me and with heather actually. But even though they didn’t even search me and basically relegated me to the sidelines where I skated for the next hour, they definitely searched heather and the car she was driving which wasn’t hers. They found a bunch of checkbooks in the car that one of the homies had come across somehow I have no idea about any of that part of the story since I had just met this chick and we were just flirting and shit in the casino. Anyways it was Christmas eve so they eventually let her go but it was pretty close to her being hauled off to jail. Just goes to show you that its pretty important to keep a clean record if you can because it helps when dealing with law enforcement officials. I never got to stick my dick in that heather chick I think she was a little jaded about my skating being responsible for her getting hassled by the man but fuck it she is one of many. And in fact a couple of days after Christmas I met this other heather chick at another casino this time in palm springs and I won’t even tell you the details of what happened but put it this way I met her at 7 pm and I was sticking my cock in her by 8:30 pm and that is no lie and she was a hot little bitch in fact I stuck it in her again on the day after new years so there you go. Well this is just a little tiny smidgen of an update on whats going on with Anthony mandich hero to the degenerates. Oh yeah one more thing props to this website I started checking out last night called the dreamin demon. They have stories of so many fucking assholes who hurt kill destroy and spread their evil around indiscriminately every single day that it makes me feel a lot better about myself. Man, people are really fucked up motherfuckers.
· RE: blocking you now
To UnNamed Ex Girlfriend
Dear UnNamed Ex Girlfriend,
All I can say to that email is WOW! That is just so WOW! I don’t know what else to say then WOW! Sorry, I know it seems a little trite but this one truly left me speechless, a difficult achievement where I’m concerned as you know. Its gripping in its sheer dramatic soap operaishness. I’m very happy that you are going to finally get a chance to give the man that you have been in love with all of these years 100% of your soul. That’s great news!
Its also just utterly intriguing to witness the lengths you go through to block “ME” from getting in touch with you, only to voluntarily retract whatever mechanism you use, usually within 48 hours. Often I don’t even realize that you have done any of these actions since I mostly wait for you to contact me these days.
The finality in which you vehemently exclaim that you’ll never hear from me in person as long as you live is quite amusing as well I have to admit, UnNamed Ex Girlfriend. Not only do you try to make me out to be a “stalker” which is the polar opposite of reality, its also the 400th time (at least) you’ve made the same declaration. I wish you luck, as usual, in this and all endeavors you choose to tackle in the future.
I remain your humble servant,
Anthony J. Mandich, Miscreant
Date: Wed, 10 Aug 2011 20:58:43 -0700
Subject: blocking you now
From: UnNamed Ex Girlfriend@gmail.com
thank you for giving me the courage to be honest to Jon. I told him Ive been in love with him for 15 yrs. He’s been waiting to hear that all this time. I’m going to give him 100% of my soul, not holding back now since you are dead to me. I’m going to be married and if I get pregnant I’ll have his baby no matter what. This is the day I become a woman who belongs to someone for the rest of my life. I’ll be his wife and the mother of his children. Watch and see. I can guarantee this.
I’m blocking you from replying to this. I tore my phone out of the wall for the house. you are blocked from every phone, email, etc. I’ll never hear from you as long as I live. If I ever see you in person, I’ll turn and walk in the opposite direction
hello my fine friends. i’m sure you have all missed my musings greatly over the past sixty days or so. i’ve been on hiatus from the internet. i had a bit of a monkey on my back named crystal methamphetamine and i had to get rid of that beast before it took my life. i’m not going to rant and rave about being clean all of a sudden. i hate that sort of shit. but i will just say for now that i’m very happy to be getting chubby hahahaha and it’s been nice to see all of my old friends starts creeping out of the woodwork and re-entering my life slowly but surely. i’m hoping to build up some bridges i’ve decimated over the past several years and with everyone’s encouragement i’m sure i will. i have to give a shout out to jim waataja, tamara cross, heather batchelder, briar scragg, april shand, stephanie kelly, kira rose, aaron maturino, jason rhodes and most of all my mother heather davies for helping me keep my head up and for being proud of me over the last 44 days.
44 days ha ha that sounds like such a joke really. for people that haven’t been on meth daily smoking it for nine years it seems like nothing being off it for 44 days. for me its a lifetime.
going to the hootenanny tomorrow to check out the supersuckers murder city devils swingin’ utters dropkick murphys et al. it should be a blast. i’ll smoke a cigarette and drink a beer lol and think about all my friends who can’t be with me. have a good fourth of july weekend okay. i’ll start writing some insightful and crazy stories of what has been going on with me soon. peace out. people.
me and a girlfriend just got home from a night in temecula, calfiornia. it was a pretty good night considering that i started today off with $1.74 in assorted change. i wasn’t really expecting to come across any substantial sums of money being that it was sunday and i was fucking beat to shit. when i left saturday night i distinctly remember leaving 7 $1 dollar bills in my room along with the aforementioned $1.74. however when i arrived home from saturday night (on sunday morning), the dastardly greenbacks were no place to be found. out of smokes…out of hope? never! things do have a way of working out even for a silly kid like me.
i have (actually had) this supposedly antique copper gunpowder horn that i salvaged from the pile of trash located on the grounds of so cal sandbags that used to be the essence of a man named james morris’ existence. the whole james morris story is not going to be told here and now. i just don’t have the time to get into that fascinating bit o’ folklore. its a tale for another day. for now suffice to say that my dear friend stephanie kelly was in charge of sorting through a huge pile of trash/valuables that was covered by a plastic tarp located next to a metal container which was adjacent to the welding station at so cal sandbags corona headquarters. for several days a few weeks back i helped her sort through this moutain of rat shit infested, rain soaked treasure. one of the items that i retrieved and which she graciously allowed me to keep was this gunpowder horn i’m talking about.
anyhow, long story short, after a bit of investigation on the internet for prices of comparable items, i listed the thing on craiglist for $78. a couple weeks after listing it i received a call from an asian fellow with an american accent named gary karaga who expressed interest in purchasing the item but only for $50. i hemmed and hawed but eventually agreed. my reason for agreeing was manyfold. first of all nobody else had even made an inquiry into the thing since i listed it. second of all i am in dire straights financially with a forced move immnient (on may 1st, 2011). third of all i have no place to move to and too much stuff to take to “no place” as it is; therefore now is not the time to be getting sentimental about junk.
i guess my long story short promise isn’t coming true but fuck that anyways. its my computer and my brain and nobody is forcing anyone to read this shit so leave me be. i can type as much as i want.
gary and i initially agreed to meet at the shell station on second and hamner in norco on monday morning at 10 a.m. (as in five and one half hours from right now). i was neither pleased nor displeased by the arrangement. in truth i didn’t really care much. during the week i have a plethora of legal ways to obtain money for my hedonistic pleasures so the promise of 50 measly bucks on a monday didn’t exactly get my juices flowing, or my pecker hard or anything like that. still though, it was a solid and sure thing in my opinion. gary didn’t seem like the type to flake and broke dirtbags can’t be choosers so i didn’t hate the whole idea either.
still though, it was sunday and i didn’t have any smokes, let alone intoxicants of any nature such as chocolate donuts and chocolate milk one of my survival staples. i was thinking to myself how nice it would have been to find that $7 missing dollars actually. that would have been just what the doctor ordered to cure my cravings for ciggies, donuts and artificially flavored milk. i wasn’t even thinking about the $50 from gary karaga as it was not a deal that was even on the radar for sunday. he had explicitly stated monday and that was that. in fact at the time we made the arrangement, on saturday, when he asked me if i would be willing to take $50 for it i had already tried the “one time only offer good for tonight agreement tactic”. if that makes no sense and it shouldn’t unless your name is rene prospero aka stickdog let me quickly break that down in english. he asked about the 50 bucks and would i accept it. this was on saturday. i said yes. but only if he picked it up tonight (saturday). i tried to play hardball but totally half assed. in fact i caved immediately when he said he couldn’t do it until monday but that he would for sure pick it up on monday if i was willing to accept the $50.
which of course i was. i mean fuck me running people, i need cash in a bad way. the reason behind me explaining this is so you can see what a pleasant and lovely shock it was when on sunday at 9 am or so, i got another call from gary telling me that he was going to be passing by norco in 15 minutes and he wanted to pick up the gunpowder horn now if that was okay with me. halleluiah! thank you God for that one. i was pretty excited about the fact that i was about to get some smokes and whatnot and of course it was okay with me. in anticipation i grabbed one of the $2 off a pack of smokes coupons sean stenlake my fine feathered friend had given to me upon his receipt of same from camel. it was natural that he handed them over to me seeing that he doesn’t pollute his temple with things like tobacco. i hadn’t used any of them yet but it seemed like a perfect time. you see i realized that $50 was just barely enough to make my sunday into an alright day with the possibilities for even more depending on whether fortune was smiling on me.
i was tired but i had a ritalyn i got from someplace a while back. that was one issue handled. i had enough gas to get where i needed to go providing that i was wise with the small amount of money that i would have at my disposal. i’m sure you can see where this is all leading since the first sentence of this story has me arriving at home at 4:04 a.m. on monday morning from temecula after having a good night. anybody that knows anything about me knows that temecula is home to pechanga casino and that i was planning on getting some cheap smokes, some cheap food, no gas and making my way to the good old casino to see if i could turn $50 (minus expenses) into something tangible, something you can sink your teeth into.
i’m getting ahead of myself really. first i had to get my head out of la la land and into the drivers seat of my large automobile, powderhorn in hand, to go meet the buyer mr. karaga, and collect the cash. a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush right? and i needed that fucking bird in my hands asap. i cruised down to shell where gary and his pretty companion were already parked up in their clean, black, mini cooper waiting for me. i pulled up next to his car, handed him the goods, exchanged pleasantries, collected the cash, shook hands and bid him adieu. my next step after ascertaining that shell would not accept manufacturers coupons for cigarettes was to cross hamner to the freeway side and march into 7-11 where the very pleasant clerk (cindy?) got me my smokes took my $2.93 and wished me well.
so far so good. i stopped by the now legendary jack in the box by my house. some of you may be familiar with this jack in the box as i have already described certain events relating to this eatery in detail not long ago. i grabbed something called a cheeseburger deluxe which cost me less then $2 and which i actually paid for with that change (the $1.74 that wasn’t missing like the still unfound $7 from saturday). what a delightful and tasty little sandwich that was by the way. a bargain at $1.49 plus tax (at participating locations) to be sure!
jesus i just glanced at the time and realized i’ve been writing this for an hour and that my neck is starting to ache so i’m not going to get into the details of my evening at pechanga except to say that i was accompanied by a pretty girl who i had only hours earlier savagely made love to. we had an excellent evening, night, and early morning. i won over $200 in cash from the crafty folk at pechanga and managed to escape with it all and also managed to make it back home safely which is where i find myself now. all in all a good day, a blessing from God in all asspects and then to top it all off, i received an email from stickdog, otherwise known as rene prospero which i’ll quote and end this story with. it kind of filled out my day and made me feel like i was on the right track in this journey otherwise known as life. so here you go, share his words with me and i’ll talk to you guys later on okay:
tony u r the man…your art is the only art i get…i have loved it since day one…i ceartinly hope u can sell some so u can afford to continue..i wish i had held on to any of the shit from heathers garage…at least i have the angels jersey that u did, that is the only piece i have…i am truly your biggest fan because all other “art” i see pales in comparason… i need to obtain some pieces!!!your website/blog is sick also i think people are biggining to understand your witty humor that i ve loved for so long…u fuckin rip man!!! rene
Monday April 18th, 2011 11:45 a.m.
I just read the May, 2010 Reader’s Digest at some friends house while waiting hours for them to get ready so that we can finally get the fuck out of here. I’ve got to moan and complain a little just because I feel like its the right thing to do but in reality I wasn’t even bored. I’m talking two and a half hours or more of sitting here in the computer room reading Reader’s Digest cover to cover and then just now watching a fight from Bellator 39. Ben Saunders vs. Matt Song Lee isn’t the ugliest MMA fight you will ever see. Ben Saunders isn’t the most devastating striker I’ve ever seen nor is Matt Song Lee the most courageous person to take an ass beating inside the octagon. That being said, just click on that link two lines up and watch the fight. The fact that this is pretty much just the normal run of the mill everyday sorta fight ought to tell you a little bit about how insane MMA as a sport is. The doctors call a stop to the fight with maybe 3 minutes left in the 3rd round after Saunders catches Lee with yet another short, gash causing, bone thumping, flesh crushing elbow. This one, above the left eye, is almost a perfect match for the one Lee had already been sporting in the same spot, opposite eye. Not to mention the
huge lump, actually call it what it is, an insane hematoma underthe left eye, the massive gash on his cheek, the broken and battered and disgustingly bloody mashed piece of dog shit that used to be his nose..
Watching this fight maybe three years ago, I would have been just amazed and astounded, and don’t get me wrong it was a very interesting and entertaining fight to be sure. The thing is, these days I’m used to seeing that kind of amazing, “fight of the year” type battle, every fight card that I get into. It can be Bellator, StrikeForce,
the WEC, Pride, Dream, Elite XC, or the UFC it doesn’t really matter. All of them have a bevy of insanely talented and tough as nails MMA warriors to choose from.
The talent pool is rife with “the next big thing”, can’t miss guys (and ladies) ready to basically get in there and kill or be killed which is pretty much the ideal recipe for what fight fans want to really see. In my opinion there is not even a comparison to be made between MMA and “the sweet science” of Boxing in terms of ferocity, courage, big hype fights that live up to the hype, interesting matchups etc. MMA is home to the stories that awe the audience with the rush of emotion we feel,
underdogs rising to the occasion, unbelievable trash talking before fights, followed by humble respect for kindred warriors after…..insane knockouts, crazy action, seemingly impossible feats of athleticism (see Anthony Pettit’s off the cage kick in the WEC), and just overall hooplah. In comparison (or lack thereof) rare indeed is the really engaging boxing match. Rare indeed is the boxing match that everybody wants to see. I don’t understand how the disparity in income levels of the stars in each sport continues to exist. I’m sure that has to change soon.
Anyways I think I have to get out of here now my friend is actually done with whatever they needed to do while I’ve been sitting here as quietly as a church mouse. So I will need to cut this off quickly. How about a pic of some gratuitous “hottest ass”? That sounds great actually let me find something really quickly hold on.
There you go I have made you life complete have I not? By the way I just saw the reason why I get so many hits under hottest ass on google. On google.com/images if you search for “hottest ass” with your safe search set to moderate, a pic from one of my other posts is the 15th image shown out of 1,810,000. Which isn’t too bad is it?
That title is surely an attention getter if ever I did see one. By the way for the last week or so ever since I decided that I am from North Carolina you would do much better as far as understanding my nonsense if you read it in your mind as if you was also from North Carolina or any other state that refers to shopping carts as buggies. Just read it with a twang and we’re gonna get along just fine okay.
I ain’t really got much time for a post here right now being the urban jet setting pretty boy that I am but I feel its necessary to touch base with my constituents from time to time as a way of getting down into the trenches with y’all common folk. Y’uns is spectacular prized pupils of mine. The lesson that I am trying to teach has not been revealed to me as of yet but I’m sure it will be in time for all of us to get the necessary wisdom from that there lesson.
Actually this is a garbled attempt at sounding somehow outlandish when really and truly I am in a rush. I need to go meet up with my sister Theresa who has my driver’s license by 5pm at her place of gainful employment, I forgot the name of it but its over there up yonder somewhere in the vicinity of Lincoln Avenue and the 91 Freeway. She done told me that it was on the other side of McDonald’s which must be a blessing for anyone to be so honored to work nearby such a beautiful and wonderful company outlet as a franchisee of McDonald’s. I would love to work nearby McDonald’s and have the wonderful sensation of gaining a pound of rancid beef fat added to my svelte waistline each and everyday. After all, its a very family friendly and budget conscious place to eat. You know as well that McDonald’s corporate headquarters has made it their mission in 2011 for all of its many franchises to express individuality and originality with their menu options.
For instance in Fontana, California, the McDonald’s franchisee up there has renamed his restaurant McTucky’s after their adopted home state of Kentucky. They offer such delectable delights as the McSwamp Chicken Tenderloin sandwich in honor of the great state of Alabama (Roll Tide!!). Does anyone know what a swamp chicken is by the way? I coined the phrase myself of course one day last week in a state of extreme delirium when I was visited by an apparition of a redneck militia soldier who rolled up on me in his buggy while I was playing Cleopatra Keno over at Pechanga Casino.
I had been at the same machine for 16 days you see, and I felt like I needed dialysis treatment because my kidneys had been assaulted by nothing but Pepsis as way of nutrition the entire marathon session. When you are sitting at a slot machine which you don’t want to give up because its already taken your firstborn child, your left testicle, 75% of your remaining life force and of course the contents of your wallet, all available credit cards and a good deal of your dignity (due to having been forced to prostitute yourself in the high limits bathrooms to creepy Asian matrons with breath that smells like Pork Kung Pao dipped in Ponzu Sauce and served with fresh garlic) it gets kinda hard to remember the basic fundamentals of healthy human living like eating food, taking showers and brushing your teeth (also known as gumming your hushpuppies, if you are from Missouri, the Buggy State).
It never fails you see, when you have thrown the equivalent of a brand new Chevrolet Suburban into a computerized personal one armed robbery facilitator, or “slot machine”, and you get up out of frustration to maybe clear your head, brush your nasty ass teeth and have a smoke while maybe even taking a look at the sun for the first time in forever, that some old ass asian water buffalo will saunter up and immediately hit the progressive jackpot on your untended machine. If you have ever gone through such a miserable and incomprehensibly demoralizing (sound familiar 12 steppers?) nightmare as I have many times you know what I’m talking about. Its painful hombre. Very very painful.
In an effort to ensure that such a horrible outcome does not repeat itself, most compulsively degenerate morons who gamble, such as myself, have taken certain steps, which when used in conjunction with a lobotomy, have been shown to be of assistance in dealing with this issue. One of these steps is known as Transcendental Medication and is a method similar to the “meditation” practiced by Buddhists and New Age Flower Children for years now. Many of the processes involved with TM as I’ll call it are the same only different as its older, better, less stupid brother, Meditation. Both involve wiping the psyche clear of mental debris that maybe inhibiting the swamp also known as your mind and preventing it from processing life through a more realistic and less expensive filter then the constantly failing “Angry and Disgruntled Degenerate Slot Player” most of the people that benefit from TM have historically chosen.
You are probably asking yourself what any of this slick jargon has to do with the topic you are here to learn more about. That topic of course is the history of the Swamp Chicken which no doubt has left you in a state of nervous anticipation, bordering on frenzied manic hysteria while you have been nervously counting down the hours until which time I deemed appropriate to share with you, gentle reader. To be honest, I’m somewhat lost myself on what TM has to do with a swamp chicken. The thing is, I figure it would be a waste to waste (is that even proper grammar?) my elegantly crafted lines of pure horse manure that I’ve typed so far so (again….proper grammar?) I’m just going to have to continue bluffing at the connection between the two totally unrelated and actually non exsitent subjects.
I figure its easier to just continue double barreling y’all with blasts of bullshit that have no roots in reality rather then suck it up, admit to God, myself and all of the other human beings the exact nature of my “lack of anything meaningful to share” and start over or perhaps even scrap the whole ridiculous idea of writing a post today. Hopefully, I can continue to baffle and amaze both of us with this boisterous, bat shit bending banter and somehow pull it all together at the end with some sort of fairy tale like save while managing to sound humble, enthusiastic and pleasantly self effacing at the same time as appearing to be competent and genuine.
I am thinking that maybe this is a bit much to have on my plate today but you know what “they” say…(throw in some tired cliche about never losing sight of your dreams) and a blah blah blah blah blah blah and a yaddha yaddha yaddha.
Oh yeah, ghetto dwelling and the Norco Crips too okay? Assa lamma lenkum my brothers and sisters and God bless us each and everyone. Take care folks, talk to y’uns later.
This is Anthony Mandich, your humble and nutritious servant saying, So Long!
P.S. “Hottest Ass”
P.P.S. “Sex, drugs, and Pussy”!
P.P.S.S. “Sean Stenlake”, Sean Stenlake: Attorney at Law, Sean Stenlake: American Hero, Sean Stenlake: The Brother I Never Knew, Sean Stenlake: Lessons in Being Great, Sean Stenlake I Love You, Sean Stenlake: Blue Eyed Wunderkind, Sean Stenlake: Everything You Have Always Wanted to Know But Were Afraid to Assk
one last thing, i’m going to experiment to see how many hits i get from putting these tags in this post okay? sean stenlake, sean stenlake attorney, anthony mandich idiot savant, what a stupid blog, god i’m dumb, ass, hottest ass, hottest fucking ass meets hotter fucking ass, asses that are hot, hotties without ass, ass loving hoes, what an ass, asshole, ass ass ass nothing but just pure ass, got ass?, want ass?, smell my ass, you are an ass, assume nothing, makes an ass out of you and me, get it ass?, ha ha ha ass sss you eaten dinner yet, ass is assembled, big huge ass in my ass, tickle my ass, put your cigar out on my ass, man do i love talking about ass, ass is so cool man, its all about the ass, get it, ass???, who wants to over use the word ass?, jackass, horse’s ass, jackasses with ass eating tendencies, horse’s ass is a big ass and they fuck that ass, horny mexican mamas with hottest ass, korean ass, chinese ass, japanese ass, white trash ass bandit, booty smelling ass pigs, ass in zen, common characteristics of an ass, wikipedia entry for ass, history of anthony mandich’s ass, poop comes out of a butt but you sir are an ass, Wiki ass, wiki mandich asshole, fucking ass lover, grape nuts drive me nuts ass boy, why do you love the mans ass so god damn much, damn what an ass, enough already with the ass ass, ass ass boy, ass ass toy, jump on that ass, fist that ass, tongue dart the dark star, jason rhodes is an ass, me and my ass, growing up with my ass, hairy ass, smelly ass, fat as a rhino’s ass, big ass white bitches, trailer park ass, old ass, legal young ass, don’t be such an ass, monetizing your blog through the use of the word ass, google searches with ass, attention getting titles, attention getting ass, assghanistan, north carolina living, i come from a buggy, get in my buggy, mantra, meditation, buddhism, transcendental medication, professing to be wise, they became fools, facing the nation, 12 steps, incomprehensible demoralization, self effacing twits, mocking the readers, the moons over my hammy, ethan hawke, boys love boys ass that are over 18 of course. smash that ass with your tongue, faux outlandish, cliche driven mockery, waste of time topics, dude i want to kill you for wasting my time, becoming a slog even if you are human, human seo, human slog, slog, search engine optimization for dummies, copyrights for dummies, dummies for dummies, buggies for dummies, stupid is forrest gumpisms for dummies, i’m a big old dummy, i fuck chicks, i fuck chicks alot, chcks love to suck my ass
What does it say about our nation when 59 of the 94 hits I have gotten on my blog today are from people doing searches on google? Before you answer consider that 90% of the searches had some variant of the word “ass” in them. Ha Ha Ha! I don’t even remember which post I did that included all this ass people are searching for. I have posted one hot pic of these Catholic School chicks just looking so fuckable its insane here let me show you that one again.
Come on Can you Really DENY the essential horniness in this picture? I’m not asking the eunuchs in the house. Actually are there any eunuchs that read my this blog? Doubtful. Do you even know what a eunuch is? According to the online dictionary Merriam Webster:
noun \ˈyü-nək, -nik\
Definition of EUNUCH
Origin of EUNUCH
There’s this chick that works at Jack in the Box by my house in Norco named Fatima. She’s a Mexican girl, skinny and hot in some crazy way that makes me want to insert cock. I know that sounds a bit rude and the ladies are probably thinking what a P-I-G pig I am and all that sorta jazz. Just because I want to be naked and inside this “Shift Leader” who works the graveyard shift at Jack in the Crack doesn’t make me a bad person. I’m just being honest so take it for what it is.
Anyways back to my original thought on this topic okay? So like a couple of nights ago right…in fact it was Sunday April 3rd. I went to Jack in the Box because I was starving. The time was about 3am. Cash on hand was limited to a single one hundred dollar bill. After picking up food I was planning on a quick stop at 7-11 for some smokes.
I already knew for a fact that 7-11 was not fond of breaking anything larger then a five dollar bill after 4 pm. They run a million dollar a year retail store yet they continue to post signs warning that “This store does not carry more then $30 in cash” in an attempt to dissuade would be robbers. 7-11 is hoping that crooks are not going to want to risk a lengthy prison sentence for a roll of quarters and a few limp $1 bills. 7-11 has their heads up their collective asses on this one I say. First of all nobody believes that bullshit about the store only having $30 bucks on hand. That’s a crock of shit and everyone knows it. If someone did rob them and found only $30, wouldn’t that just piss an armed robber off to the point of endangering the hapless clerk even more?
I digress. Sorry.
Back to Jack in the Box:
Like I said I went by Jack in the Box, ordered the All American Combo with Coke. My order was taken by Fatima. Seeing her in that sexy manager outfit, all black, I admit checking out her ass as we shot the shit while she was bent over filling up my Coke. I’m probably dreaming but it sure seemed that Fatima was extra attentive to me whenever I saw her. The dream turns decidedly “wet” as I imagine rubbing “special sauce” all over her naked body
Shit I should take that back I forgot she might read this shit someday and she might not understand that I’m only fucking around. In fact, I can think of a few other people who I would suggest reading this story with a grain of salt if you know what I mean!!
She told me the total ($4.56 or something) and I pulled out my Ben Franklin and handed it to her. Even though Jack in the Box has their own set of signs spinning shit regarding the lack of more then $50 cash after something like 2pm in the afternoon, I was sure that I was operating under a different set of rules. Fatima started walking to the different registers searching for enough change to pay me the $95 I have coming. I was pretty surprised when she walked back to the drive thru window and said, “Sorry, I can’t break it, I only have $70 total”.
At that point my food was ready to hand over. I was hungry. So I said to her in a groveling sorta whiny voice, “Well what can I do then cuz I need my food!”. She shocked me big time by saying I could just pay for it later. That generous offer really got my mind racing . Visions of boobies danced through my head. Hell yea. I quickly agreed, thanked her and proceeded to quickly drive to 7-11 about 100 yards away. There was no simple way to get there because of the curb that surrounded 7-11 . I had to basically drive 1000 yards, and it was late as shit. No biggie until I was speeding around the left side of the place and nearly drove into a couple of officers from the Corona Police Department who were parked up and chatting.
I did a mental inventory of my car and my person, and my state of mind, decided that I had nothing to worry about, and continued confidently without really slowing down right by them and turned into an empty parking space in front of the store. I got out of the car, carefully walking like a sober man, (which I was actually). I didn’t turn my head to see if they were watching me as I’m not on probation or parole and I don’t really have much to hide from the cops.
The next huge challenge of the early morning was somehow making it alright with the crazy, Punjabi, serial murderer that worked the graveyard at 7-11. I needed to get out of that store with a pack of smokes, some chocolate milk and Hostess Chocolate Donuts, with the change from the $100 dollar bill and probably within a normal time limit so the Corona’s finest, out there shooting the shit didn’t get suspicious and start thinking that I was robbing the place of its $30 dollars in cash they had. This may sound easy to you as you are reading this but you don’t know this dude at 7-11. My old girlfriend April, said he was for sure the Indian version of Jeffery Dahmer and I had to agree with her. He has theses weird eyes that seem to mentally undress you as you walk into store. Mentally undress not only your clothes…which maybe wouldn’t be that bad if the price was right hahaha, but mentally undress your skin from flesh and flesh from bones? That’s where I draw the line.
I’ve skateboarded to 7-11 tons of times at night super late wanting a smoke, having no money and hanging out in front waiting for someone to go in the store and come out with a pack of Marlboro lights so I could sheepishly hit them up. “Hey do you have an EXTRA smoke?” I’d say. I’d be all sweaty and haphazardly dressed, but somehow people never found it creepy that I was sitting out in front of 7-11 in Norco, at 3am, with my skateboard and sweat dripping down my apparently 30 year old face, asking them for cigarettes. In fact, chicks often would stop and have a little conversation with me. Ha ha ha the power of beauty still works ha ha ha. Or maybe I’m kidding myself and its just that I have no shame and don’t notice the fake smiles on these peoples faces as they stop, open their packs of smokes and hand me one. Who knows. Anyways, I’ve always been a little creeped out myself standing there because 7-11 Serial Murderer man would be looking at me the whole time behind his bushier then shit eyebrows and cold, calculating, “I want to eat your left ass cheek followed by your arm” dark, brown, Punjabi eyes. I’m never really that polite to the dude either because he really makes me feel uncomfortable. You can’t talk to him at all. He doesn’t get politeness, he doesn’t know English I don’t think. He just stares at you with those serial killer eyes.
So anyways, I had my work cut out for me. What I ended up doing to combat the problem was picking out a bunch of individual items that he would have to ring up one by one and then if he wanted to deny me on the hundred dollar bill he would have to sit there and un ring them up one by one and put them all back. So I grabbed chocolate milk, some chocolate Hostess donuts, some 20 cent candies and two packs of smokes. It came out to like $14. Then I whipped out the hundred and right away shit was going down! He pointed to the “This Store Carries only $30 after 2pm” sign, shook his head in disgust, hemmed and hawed, asked me if I had a credit card to use and even went so far as to take off his belt, pull down his pants and start whipping himself on his ass while chanting, “Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar” while his eyes rolled to the back of his head and foam started coming out of his mouth.
I’d seen it all before. These tactics weren’t working on a hustlah like me. He quickly realized that I wasn’t quaking in fear, vomiting profusely or pissing all over the place so he quit with the dramatics, made the “Shhhh” signal by cupping his hand into a fist except for his long, dirty index finger, with the black nail polish which he put to his lips. He reached over to his right, opened this brown binder thing and pulled out a massive stack of cash, like literally $500 bucks worth of 1’s, 5’s, 10’s and 20’s. He gave me a sheepish grin, counted out my $86 bucks in change and hustled me out of the store. That was on Sunday night, actually Monday morning.
I sauntered by the cops again, who were still there. They both turned their heads when I passed them but they realized that I was too much to handle and that they could just as easily sit there eating their fucking donuts and shooting the shit until their shift was over so they both nodded back to me after I respectfully nodded their way. I ended up going back home for a little while and then headed to Soboba Casino at like 5 in the morning. I won’t get into all of that shit right now because it’s not the point of this particular story. Actually what was the point of this particular story? Oh yeah, Fatima from Jack in the Box. So to finish it up, I had like $16 bucks Stephanie Kelly gave me for gas after working yesterday which of course isn’t really enough to take to the casino after you factor in the horrendous price of goddamn gas these days. I still owed the $4 bucks to Fatima at Jack in the Box right. So I decided to be like this amazing human being, and go pay it back, again at like 3 in the morning last night. At least I thought my intentions were good but I realized after that I’m just a scum bag like everybody else. Why? Well, I went through the drive through and ordered a Mini Funnel Cake which are the shit if they don’t over cook them. You just spread some of that strawberry jam Jack in the Box is famous for on them and they are really quite a tasty and scrumptious little snack item. My intention was to get the funnel cake, slide right up to the drive through window and play the hero role with sexy little Fatima. I imagined she would ooh and aaah over me being such an honest and caring little fella by paying her back and that we would get to chatting and …..I don’t know …..maybe she would wanna come over after work at 6 a.m. for a little breakfast sandwich if you know what I mean. Ha hahaa. Well you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men….
Imagine my horror and disgust when I got to the drive through window and some fat ass preppy looking Mexican GUY opened the window and told me it was $1.08 for the fucking funnel cake. I was like, “Fuck my life!”. I asked his sweaty looking, preppy looking, greasy looking ass if Fatima was working. He looked at me sorta strange like and said, “Fatima? No she’s not working.” Fine whatever. And here’s the reason I’m still filled with that feeling of “I’m a dick”. I could have paid off my little bill very easily whether Fatima was there or not. She told in her sexy Spanish accent that she was leaving a note with a copy of the receipt for whoever was working so I would have no problem having my balance cleared.
So I ask you faithful reader….did I voluntarily mention to Mr. Fat Preppy Boy that I needed to pay back a food front from the other night and hand over the $4 bucks? I think we both know the answer to that one right? Fuck no I didn’t. Ha ha ha fuck that! I’ll wait for another time when Sexy Fatima IS working and I’ll see if I can still parlay the whole situation into some kind of dirty Jack in the Box fantasy sex or something.
Maybe I’ll just pay it back regardless of who is working next time I go. The battle inside my head between the Angel on my right shoulder and Satan on my left continues to rage on. I’ll have to let everyone know who wins. I’m going to try very hard to be a good kid but sometimes I have problems with that. Until next time everyone. Take care of yourselves and each other.
Satanthony Mandich, Urban Legend and Shot Caller
**Note to the Author of the Poof, u mean nothing to me Text Message that I have stolen with impunity and decided to use without giving you proper copyright credit**
Thank you for providing me enough material to write blog posts that entertain everyone involved in reading them. Truly, I appreciate your contributions. Thanks again and remember to keep your chin up kiddo!
FOR EVERYONE ELSE: I SOMEHOW PULLED THIS CRAZY PICTURE OFF OF MY FACEBOOK ACCOUNT. THE FIRST PERSON THAT TELLS ME HOW I DID IT GETS WHATEVER THEY WANT THAT I CAN AFFORD FOR ONE DAY AS A PRIZE.
“The will to win means nothing without the will to prepare.” -Juma Ikangaa
Please wait for a site operator to respond.
You are now chatting with ‘Jack’
Jack: Welcome to our Casino! To assist you better please introduce yourself either by Name or Username and then inform of your concern
you: ANTHONY MANDICH, USER NAME KRASHTHRILLS
you: I AM TRYING TO FIND THE CASINO LOBBY SO THAT I MAY ACTIVATE MY COUPON BUT I CAN’T SEEM TO FIND IT JACK. CAN YOU HELP ME MY VERY GOOD FRIEND AND GENTLE COMPANION?
Jack: May I have the bonus code?
you: MY CODE IS: R50
Jack: Please be advised that this code expired. Unfortunately we have no free bonuses at this moment. Please make your deposit today and we will match it with huge 360% bonus.
you: OH I’M SORRY BUT I CAN’T DO THAT YOU SEE.
you: UNFORTUNATELY YOUR CASINO HAS BEEN LISTED BY THREE ONLINE SITES THAT I TRUST GREATLY AS A ROGUE CASINO SO I CAN’T DEPOSIT WITHOUT FIRST RECEIVING THE FREE CHIP TO MAKE SURE THAT I CAN GET PAID.
you: DOES THAT MAKE SENSE MR. MEOFF? IT IS MR. MEOFF AM I CORRECT? MR. JACK MEOFF?
Jack: No, I’m not Jack Meoff. Unfortunately we have no free bonuses, I advised you to deposit today or wait for the next free bonus campaign to start off
you: OH WELL CAN I TALK TO JACK MEOFF? I WAS TOLD TO TALK TO HIM’
Jack: Excuse me, who advised you to talk to this man?
you: HOLD ON LET ME CHECK THE EMAIL AND I WILL TELL YOU
you: IT WAS YOUR MANAGER MR. BEN DOVER
you: HE SAID IF I CAN’T FIND JACK MEOFF THEN I NEED TO TALK TO MIKE HUNT
you: DOES MIKE HAWK STILL WORK WITH YOU?
Jack: I’m sorry as this promotion expired we can not redeem this code. If you want to contact management please email at email@example.com and we will forward your email to management
you: A VERY GOOD FRIEND OF MINE BARRY McCOCKINER TOLD ME THAT HE DID
you: WHO SHOULD I ADDRESS THAT TO?
you: MIKE HAWK OR MIKE HUNT?
Jack: just email us without any name
Jack: to management
you: WHO SHOULD I SAY TOLD ME TO WRITE? ARE YOU JACK INOFF OR JACK KNAUFF?
you: YOU SOUND LIKE JACK SCHITT BUT I DON’T KNOW YOU MIGHT BE JACK SOFFALOT? LET ME KNOW JACK.
Jack: just use my first name please
you: OKAY JACKAL. TALK TO YA LATER BUDDY.
Jack: Please contact us any time, it’s been our pleasure to help you!
you: tHANKS MR. sCHITT
So Polly gets in the car….I haven’t seen her in 14 years or some shit so its kind of strange to be back at her house once again in Huntington Beach, California picking her up. Kind of strange? How about fucking really strange. Think about it, this chick is married (for the second time actually I found out later) and lives in another state. The only reason we are in contact at all is because I randomly saw the facebook account of her SISTER on one of my buddy’s wives facebook accounts and only in passing. I’m such a scatter brain that to have it hit me again at some point days later,and have the “could give afuckitis” strong enough to actually take th e time to find the sisters account again and scan through it until I found hers and to even bother looking at her scant pictures (maybe like 10 total) AND to find one that actually interested me enough to send her a message saying so, thus breaking the long frozen communication cube (doesn’t make sense sorry) and getting the ball rolling on this current “hey what’s up friend” status we have going on at the minute…..well let’s just say thats like one in a million. There’s even more going against the chances of us ever talking to each other again then that but I won’t even go into that shit let’s just leave it at that. All of these thoughts flew into and out of my head in about a second as I let her into the car.
I mean fuck. I’m no emo kid. Who gives a rat’s ass why she was in the car and what the chances of that happening could have been accurately predicted at before she got in? I sure didn’t. All I knew was that it was still pretty early for poker on a Friday night and I was being bought in by some chick that wanted to get fucked up and my buy in was the price for her being able to be in my magnificent and handsome presence. One track mind for sure. And its one track was definitely not “I want to fuck my Ex Girlfriend” . Who cares about that. I can fuck chicks whenever I want to be actually honest so I wasn’t about to get all stoked on the chance of boning some chick I used to bone day after day a century ago! Nah, my one track mind was all POKER POKER POKER.
Still though I had to get her to the casino, still in a relatively good mood and whatnot or I could kiss my buy in money good buy! Pun intended. Gay pun at that. So I went on the offensive, peppering her with questions that led directly from her answers, never really giving her a chance to catch her breath really, until we were walking into the casino towards the bar first (Jager Bomb for me-terribly prepared by the bartender and a big Two Thumbs down to that moron and a Corona for her on her). After I got my warmish drink down I sorta waited her out until we were at the ATM and she pulled out some cash, gave me a hundy and said “see ya later” and went back to the bar. Five minutes later I was doubling up the fifty bucks that I bought in with, putting the other fifty dollar bill in my wallet as a definite souvenir to take home commemorating the Polly and Tony big reunion episode.
The hand I doubled up with went down like this. I was in the big blind with pocket 8’s with one caller in front of me. (Blinds are 1 and 2 respectively). I raised it to like 11 and he quickly called.
It was definitely a Jack though. Again he checked in front of me but this time something told me he was trying to do a trappy type check, feigning like that turn didn’t help him in any way. He’s a bad player though, and it was kind of obvious that he had a jack to me. Praying that he did, I “took the bait” and let him “trap me”. I bet 20 which he raised to 40 which put me all in. I pretended to think about it for a second but didn’t even want the rest of the table to get a glimpse of my Hollywood Acting Job just yet so I quickly just smiled and turned over my flopped set of 8’s and of course by that time he was drawing DEAD. Even another Jack on the River which would give him trips would give me a boat and he was pretty pissed off about losing that hand. He fully thought that he had conned me into calling with an inferior hand to his like Jack King or some shit. Which really, if your poker game is all about “trapping” with top pair top kicker hands, then you are probably not only a losing player you are also usually the one getting trapped. Anyways his shit Ace Jack hand was fucking dominated and he gathered the rest of his chips and hit the highway. Too bad. I would have loved to take all of his chips.
Stay tuned for part 5
I want to dedicate this installment of “My New Adventures by Anthony Mandich” to the 6 (six) people who so avidly read the first installment. It’s really heartwarming to know that I am positively affecting the lives of so many people.
I snuck out of the house, it was about a quarter to midnight when I finally got away. I didn’t really want to wake up my Uncle Gordon, the old codger that lives here. I’m not sure why I call him Uncle since he and I are not related in any way except blood. He is my lovely mother, Heather’s brother. I don’t wanna get into Uncle G for now but just understand that there would have been words between us if he woke up while I was in the process of taking my mom’s car at midnight. So I got away and headed to Huntington Beach. I had my Sprint Palm Pixie all dialed in with the address to Polly’s house so I was sweet. Except for the fact that I was fucking tired and certainly was not looking my handsome best, I was still reasonably confident that good times were in store for me.
I hadn’t seen Polly in about 13 years or so. She used to be my girlfriend. When I lived in Newport Shores and the Fun Zone, she was my bitch. I met her years ago at this bar in Costa Mesa called the Lava Room. I had gone there with my friend Justin Doyle, a resident of Australia (Melbourne) who I had met years prior in Hawaii where I was vacationing with my chick at that time, Elke. So anyways, Justin came back down to California and was staying with me at my house on 37th and Seashore in Newport. He slept on the floor of my room some nights. Alot of times though he had to sleep on the living room floor which must have been a living hell for him because we had some fucked up roommates and they were dirty, loud, drunken louts. The two couches in the living room were already being taken up by some fuckheads from New Jersey if I remember correctly. The people out there didn’t go to bed ever or so it seemed and I’m sure Justin would have been pretty miserable those 3 or 4 nights a week when I was busy getting busy with sluts I pulled from Cassidy’s or Mutt Lynch’s or the Stag Bar.
Getting laid that year was like fishing in a barrel for me. I lived two houses from the sand in Newport Beach, which meant that the out of towner hoes didn’t have to get in their Jettas or Cabriolets and drive anywhere to hook up so it was just fucking extremely easy to get them to come back to my house after a night of playing pool and getting wasted at Cassidy’s. Basically I would just say “let’s walk over to my house” once they called Last Call and nine out of ten times that was a big 10-4 Good Buddy.
I mean really and truly, living anywhere in the vicinity of say 45th Street to the Pier in Newport gave guys a distinct advantage when it comes to pussy just for the convenience factor for all parties involved. My roommates were always amenable to me bringing bitches back to the house so I always brought bitches back to the house. That was my role in our clan of hunter/gatherers. Tony Mandich-Bitch Magnet.
Just kidding of course. (about the bitch magnet).
All kidding aside the bottom line is that Justin couldn’t have been all that excited when I met Polly at the Lava Room. For starters Polly was fucking hot hot hot hot hot and only 19 at the time. She lived in Huntington Beach off of Newland somewhere and Justin got a sense that his little slice of heaven on my floor was slipping away from him, when for one of the first times that I can remember, I didn’t even try and get her to come to my house. I don’t even remember kissing her that night. I do remember wanting her to be naked and perched on my face for a couple of days but I kept those wants inside my head. I simply obtained her phone number and gave her a little hug before Justin and I took off back to my house.
Stay tuned for Part 3