Just got stabbed in neck by Barbie

My daughter just gave me a hug from Barbie a second ago.  Unfortunately Barbie has some hard plastic limbs and she inadvertently stabbed me in the neck.  There is quite a lot of blood pouring out of my carotid artery as I type.  Hopefully I can stem the flow a little bit, buying me at least enough time to write a proper entry here.  Its been a minute.  Its hard as fuck to concentrate on this shit though because my same three year old kid is sitting here asking me if the socks that she just picked up off of the floor are from Frozen.  She is also asking me if I can find her shoes.  She is also going through all of the drawers of clothes that I just put away yesterday when I cleaned up this fucking nightmare room.  Her purpose in tearing through the drawers is ostensibly to find proper attire for Barbie.  You see, we are getting ready to go to the store together to find buy some Pullups because she is still having issues with potty training and can’t really be trusted to be completely diaper free just yet.  Her biggest issue seems to be not taking a shit in her panties everyday.  Luckily for me the shits she is taking are pretty firm in consistency and don’t really cause that much of a mess which is a good thing.  It kind of keeps my sanity intact for one more day if you know what  I mean.  If you know what I mean really then I feel sorry for you because nobody should ever really have to relate with my nutty life.  Now I have the adorable little child standing next to me going through my little sketch pad and asking me about every single thing that I have ever drawn in there and asking me who each person is.  The problem is she is not satisfied with answers like, “oh its a little man” or “its a little doggie”.  Then she wants me to draw an itsy bitsy spider for her.  She loves that little itsy bitsy fucking spider so much that I have to draw her another one.  Now I’m starting to lose my focus if you know what I mean.  Of course! We just fucking went through that whole thing I forgot.  I’m ignoring her so she is getting more desperate for my attention, telling me that she needs to go into the shower, which she just got out of.  I ignore that so she starts pushing me and saying daddy a few dozen different ways.  Stone face so she starts really pushing me and calling me by my Christian name which happens to be Anthony.

I forgot I was even writing this.  Its like 4 hours later and we went to Walmart together (Daddy and Daughter) and got boisterous for a little while.  We were both just amazed at “how cute” every single product that had a tie into the Frozen movie was.  That’s what Audrey said literally about every single thing she recognized from that blasted movie that fucking Walmart had stocked on their shelves, in special displays all over the fucking store, next to the elevators, escalators, entrances and exits, restrooms, dressing rooms you name it. I actually was amazed…she just thought each thing was so cute and of course she wanted one of everything in the store.  She was cracking me up so I did get her a couple of things and using my mind manipulation techniques I was even able to convince her that her Pampers Pull Ups were a special treat.  What we settled on for her were a pair of shoes with lighted heels and special pics of Frozen princesses Elsa and Anna.  I was considering shoplifting the fucking things to see if I still had it but ultimately decided to leave well enough alone and even though the shoes were safely on baby girl’s feet and the upc price tag safely ensconced in the box containing my new mma hand wraps, when I was paying at the register I made a point out of making sure that the semi attractive cashier (Debbie I think) rang the shoes up.  They were $15.87 by the way.  We also got her a mini basketball which she picked out.  It was neck and neck between  the mini basketball and oddly enough a football (no soccer but football like the NFL football).  She had never previously shown any interest in or knowledge of the fact that football even existed prior to tonight as far as I know so I was kinda tripping on the interest in the football to begin with.

In case you were really fascinated by our shopping trip and you want to know what I purchased for myself, too fucking bad.  The only reason I am still working on this article is because I am getting ready to go running in a few minutes but first I need my piece of shit phone to charge up enough that I can listen to my fucking Spotify punk rock motivational crap and have my Runtastic app remain open on and running for my entire run so I don’t get cheated out of mileage and times like always happens because something stupid like not having a properly charged phone battery rears up hisses and fucks up my mojo for that day.  It never fails to happen when I am on a personal best pace on a day with heavy mileage being run, a day I would be able to use as bragging evidence via a screen shot that I use whenever some body that is not dead and also knows me but hasn’t spoken to me for one reason or another for six months invariably gets to chatting and asks me the innocuous sounding “so what have you been up to”? and I use that as my opening to bore the tears out of another apathetic winner from my past, present, or future.   Anyways yeah not having a fully charged phone can really come back to bite a guy in the ass in these circumstances.

I’m wearing a really homosexual looking Adidas athletic suit thing right now which is not very flattering especially with the pooch belly I still have even after running 1,367 miles since October 6th of last year.  I think it might even be unwashed in fact I’m pretty sure it is.  And its not mine.  I found it in the barn at my cousins house in Los Angeles and I’m reasonably certain that it belonged to my cousin Dayna’s soon to be ex husband.  He is a cross fit guru allegedly ranked number two in the USA at one point.  Anyways my cousin John gave me permission to keep the ugly stinky article of clothing and the funny thing is I don’t think he really had/has the authority to be giving away another man’s homosexually slanted gay pirate muscle suit thing.  But he did.  And I accepted it because I wanted it and I really don’t know why.  Maybe I enjoy dressing like a gay.  I’m pretty sure I do in certain aspects but that’s not a subject to get into right now.

I’m well aware that I am coming across as a mental defective and I’m really not one I don’t think but I have to admit being somewhat enamored with the whole stream of consciousness that can come pouring out of my fingertips almost without even trying at certain times.  Real talk for a second and I just made this mental connection that the reason for my sauciness tonight is that I have been power watching past episodes of Shameless on Netflix and Showtime on Demand for the past few days and if you watch Shameless you know that basically every character is larger than life, smartasstic horny drug taking hedonist sado masochistic and kind of bad overall yet they fascinate me.  Lip is especially cool and I want to fuck Fiona badly.

In case anyone cared or didn’t know I have relocated out of the Temecula Elsinore Casino Meth Capitalistic Inland Empire Bro Prison White Trash Desperado Probation Parole Headquarters to the lovely confines of Los Angeles which has all of that and more but is infinitely more interesting, diverse, busy and I have to think educated in a certain way that is part money and culture but also street smart mixed with school smart mixed with mostly transplanted out of towners from all over the world melting pot with history and millions of stories waiting to be wrenched from the surroundings where they lie.  Temecula in particular has nowhere near the historical appeal of someplace like Hollywood and I would be lying if I didn’t admit to being very happy that I am out here.  I don’t have any sort of permanent thing going on here but I am working towards having something that makes sense to a higher percentage of those with their crazy lives somewhat in control.

Hopefully it will all work out for me and little Audrey out here near Tinseltown.  Who knows maybe I can get her a part in some sitcom or some shit.  She is a little charming actress fake crier extraodinaire already so we shall see.  Along those lines, Ed Harris and his wife (I think) are filming some kind of something at the property where I currently reside.  I’m not going to be more specific than the greater Los Angeles Area and its not because I don’t want any of you to know where I am  but out of respect for the people who are nice enough to let my daughter and myself sleep here temporarily.  Its nice to have a bloody roof over my head and to know my daughter is safe.

I’ve lost my focus here obviously so I am going to cut this post now and if you are lucky I may just publish it in the next five minutes so one or two of you can read along and send some good vibes and thoughts my way.  Any girls that want to fuck, I’m down as of right now.  Private message me and I will give you my cell  phone number. If I have a girlfriend down the road shortly and she is reading this let me take a quick moment to apologize.  I’m sorry honey (whoever you are) I’m just lonely and often really horny. So yeah.  I have gotten with a few very hot little mamas since arriving in Los Angeles. I’m not going to out them on this forum but trust me we are talking about some primo female flesh.  Just counting my blessings.

Steve Jacobson, Josh Erlenmeyer, Elijah Brown, Kris Cass, Steve Bultsma and others have promised to meet up with me out here in Los Angeles and thus far have not made the attempt.  I can understand why for Steve and Elijah who both think I will be an over the top distraction for important women in their lives.  Josh will eventually get in touch and Kris Cass and Stevie will too.  Faith in humanity and faith in friends.  You gotta have that shit if you are going to have a happy life.  I gotta go running now.  I have four miles of warm ups and warm downs with 8 sprints of a half mile thrown in the middle.  45 seconds of rest after each sprint is not nearly enough so I really gotta go motherfuckers.

Thank God (that’s what you are probably muttering to yourself under your breath if you made it this far)

I dedicate this post to the memory of Charles McEldowney.  I love you Charlie.  Hopefully I can hump your girl Mia too.  That would be lovely. 

Liza Rowe and Nikki Knightly are fine ass ladiesHollywood-Sign-Wallpaper




This Shit Ain’t No Fairytale


Anthony Mandich will not lose forever

I love it when the pulpit comes out.  The cliches start rolling.  The condemnation for a lifestyle that doesn't fit into the status quo. 
Stumbling, slurring, lunatic drunk family members start preaching to me about drugs and the room fills up with contempt on one side and blah blah blah hypocrisy on the other. 
Put it in front of me and I will take it, subtly twist it and give it back to you  in ways you can't imagine.  Smile to my face, pity me while you throw me to the wolves.  Join a bandwagon of some kind. 
How about the "Get a Job you Lazy Bum" Bandwagon?  That  sounds as good as any to me. Don't dare to practice tolerance.  Be rigid.  Think inside the box little person.  I give you the sense that I don't think at all.  Little do you know that all I do is think. 
No time in this life for me to be bitter, as for the hypocrisy I see, you see, it takes a hypocrite to know a hypocrite and surely I'm not as stupid as you pretend that I am. 
Talk in your hushed whipsers.  Pretend that I am only a child who can't be trusted with sharp knives.  Delude yourself into thinking that I'm incapable of caring for myself.  Its okay. 
I'm not angry in fact I deserve all the recriminations that you can wad up and throw at me.  Hit me with your best shot I've already shown myself I can take it.  Take it and take it and take it some more and still wake up with a smile on my face and in my untainted heart. 
My soul  is intact despite what my eyes have seen, my ears have heard.  Despite the bridges by the dozen that  my larcenous treacherous gambling brain has burned to the ground.  Its a big world. 
I'm a sinner but not a mortal sinner.  I'm bad but I'm not evil.  Although the road to hell is paved with good intentions, my personal road to salvation is still in front of me along with my dreams. 
Grace is remarkable.  God is truly amazing.  Enigmatic pretty verily sums up so many things. 
There is no black nor white for me on most issues there are varying shades of grey.  I'm crazy but in a good way. 
 I'm not repenting from death row I haven't killed anyone you see.  My sins run to the petty variety.  Sure there are plenty of them that is without a doubt a true statement.  Paper cuts if you will.  I've inflicted an untold number of paper cuts on everyone I've ever come in contact with but more so to myself. 
 I'm not depressed although I often get frustrated. 
Sunny days I feel His grace and I know that I am a loved child of God.  Goddammit I take that name in vain its wrong but He's strong and I tend to be foolish at times. 
I haven't grown up yet you see. 
Experience is a folly for the soft but I've got mettle. 
Shedding my stubborn ways embracing the flexibility I should have embraced years ago but why look back in anger?  What will that get done for you?  Not much to be sure not much. 
Let the haters hate they always will.  I gossip too and bandwagon jump and lack the courage of my convictions
but I've suffered you see and I've survived and when push comes to shove
I will have something good to die for you see its making it beautiful to live. 
 Future and time and dreams ahead and it will all come to pass the way it should come to pass and if you doubt me then doubt me I couldn't care less it hurts me for a bubble eyed goldfish second then I move on unscathed. 
It's not revenge I seek nor do I wish to shove my future miracles  in your face because you can't be blamed for doubting me I doubt myself don't you see but experience and the heaviest sense of destiny tell me sing to me preach to me pound into me like a nail that there is more to my existence. 
I was put here for a reason and its not as a lesson of what not to do or how not to act.  I've been foolish but I'm not a fool.  I'm a clown but not like John Wayne  Gacy or Pennywise from IT. 
Maybe at the end of the day I will give people something to believe in.  Maybe I will restore faith  in the inherent goodness that I still believe exists in the world despite the many shining example of "People you'll see in hell".  Those are lost souls and I don't know why and I care about the victims but i don't care about the motherfucking bastards that are featured in that website.  Don't know how they got that way and its not up to me to explain or lose my faith in that goodness I just referred to. 
 Its there and I'm humble enough to pray that the grace that has kept me going this long doesn't fizzle out or erode like the good will I usually encounter then lose with the humans that I push pull bend twist demand annoy and ultimately lose as good will ambassadors in my saga. 
My life is littered with them and its all my fault but my journey is not done and someway someday I'm going to pick up a couple passengers that are going to see this thing through with me.
Right to the very end. 
I'll cry in the face of unswerving unbending uncompromising loyalty but they will be tears of joy. 
For now like Ella's mother once told me I will just think of you all bathed in a pool of white light. 
Stream of consciousness fades for today. 
Good day lovely day hold the sun in my hands today.

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Anthony Mandich pretty much rules okay

Corruption Rotting For Eternity by Anthony Mandich

Saturday is Poker Day Kids

I am waiting with baited breath to be picked up by who else, a Heather.  This one is Heather McGovern.  I know so many Heathers its sick.  I’m not going to get into the Heathers right now but trust me I will fascinate you in the future with my Heather stories.  Right now my only purpose in posting a blog at all is to get my newly completed painting out there for the public to see.  It is extremely cool I must say.  Its just really really really cool.  Sean Stenlake thinks so as well.  Even my Uncle Gordon likes it.  Why don’t we just kinda cut through all the bullshit and unveil the damn thing.   Ladies and Gentlemen……….meet the girl of my dream and nightmares………..

Very INsane painting in person......

A picture’s worth a thousand words!!!!

Ella Hughes by Anthony Mandich

Painting done on 3 canvases from a b/w photo of my grandmother

The One by Anthony Mandich

Lin Zhao, Hero

Painted this on an old canvas years ago.

Taken from a picture of a girl I found on the internet.

I'm actually still working on this painting and its much different now

I think its a shame and really sad that Jean Harlow died at age 26

Part of the Erlenmeyer Collection completed in 2010 by Anthony Mandich

From Stiff Little Fingers to Air to Chimara

My musical tastes are as scattered as my varnish filled brain.  I can’t be fucked coming up with a mood playlist on my Media Player or even put the damn thing on shuffle so I’m getting full career sets by each band that comes on.  Tonight I’ve already heard 25 SLF songs at least, 4 Radiohead Albums, St.Elsewhere by Gnarls Barkley, 3 Air Albums, Chimara, The Airborne Toxic Event  who I had never heard before tonight and I did like one sappy song they did.  Somehow I even have 4 Air Supply songs.  Just what I need at 3:30 in the morning when I’ve been painting for fucking what seems like forever.  Painting and playing poker.  Thats all I seem to do.  Paint and play poker.

Gambling, Art, Women, Drugs, Skateboarding, Punk Rock, Cocktail Making, Writing, Chick Music, and Very Little Sleep.  Those have been the overriding themes of my life for a very long time.  We can go back at least ten years and I promise that those same ten topics were still in play.  Maybe more of one and less of another but pretty much consistently I’ve been a prisoner of the same shit.  Prisoner?  Well I don’t know if that is the right word but you get the point right?  I’d really like to expand my horizons or something.

Perhaps getting rid of a couple of the more toxic elements and adding a few neglected elements and my life would be more satisfying, fulfilling and in balance.  I don’t know.  It’s  just a thought.  Boring….I’m going to spare my 5 readers any more philosophy from my inane brain.

So I’ve gone on one of the biggest graphic rampages of my life in the last two months.  I have plenty of sincerely awesome pieces that I want to transfer to canvas.  In fact I have enough to keep me busy painting for a year at least.  I want to have an art show before then though.  I’m thinking September or October maybe.  Hopefully some people will come and get excited and spend thousands of dollars and  that would be just so fucking cool.

I’ve got a poker tournament starting on Full Tilt right now so I think I should go soon.  As if you care.  Honestly, its the fact that I can type and I like typing that keeps me putting out this blog.  I really don’t have anything worthwhile to contribute.  I also don’t feel like I can be completely candid in the way that I really really want to.   There are definitely some things I would love to discuss but for various reasons I can’t.  Which sucks.

Sean Stenlake, my good friend, and I, are playing poker today at Larry Flynt’s Hustler Casino in Gardena.  I can’t wait.  My hot little friend Kirsty Paulus works there as a dealer and she is so nice to look at.  The cutest face the hottest ass.  I mean the hottest fucking ass.  And she thinks I’m the shit.  So I love her.  LOL.   Sean and I are going to LA anyways to go to Dick Blick Art Supplies.  I got too many brushes in my recent art supplies order and I want to trade some of them in for some other shit I need.  I have an ART Patron who is currently financing this current run of paintings.  This person is the shit.  I can’t really name this person because I don’t think this person wants to be publicly outed as a sucker for my art!  I don’t blame this person for being a sucker for my art actually because well I don’t know but I think its kinda nice and stuff.  LOL.  Anyways…..I digress.  As usual.  By the way I just donked out of my tournament on Full Tilt on purpose.  I didn’t feel like playing it so I just open shoved the flop after calling a preflop raise with 7 – 5 off.  Who cares.  I’d rather save my prowess for the live  casino.  I’ve been killing it lately in poker.  Well mostly killing it.  Well actually yeah, killing it in poker and then getting sucked into other forms of gambling, losing when I should win, getting angry and spewy with my money and losing it back that way.  Its a common enough plight with poker players, even brilliant ones.

I”m not saying I’m a brilliant poker player but I am at least a fearless and thinking and aggressive player.  I’d be willing to play anybody that reads this and wants to challenge me heads up.  No problem at all.  Especially if you come over to my house and play me heads up in my art studio because I am currently 12-0 in sessions since April 1st with a net positive gain of over $550 dollars.  Which isn’t bad for poker with friends and stuff.  One guy who I will be glad to name here, Freddy, my friend for quite a while from the casino, lost his fucking ass to me so bad and he wouldn’t stop and built himself up an impressive debt of over $460 dollars to me which he as not paid.  He just doesn’t call or come over anymore which I laugh at and scorn him in my mind.  What a major pussy!  Oh I could tell you some funny fucking stories about those sessions and maybe I will but not right now because I am sick of typing and wanna work on my painting for a bit longer, take a four nap and then get up and go play poker.  I really don’t have too much money because I spent most of it on art supplies on Friday.  Which is actually a good thing I don’t want to risk anything meaningful on poker this weekend.  Which means I will probably kick ass.

Wish me luck in all of my endeavours because I sincerely wish you all luck in yours.   Bye kids.

P.S. I’ve included one of my recent pieces of art.   This is one of the finest pieces I’ve ever personally created.  It’s really a complete piece and if you have the ablility to look at it at a pretty good size it should keep you captivated for a few minutes at least.  Enjoy!  Don’t steal it though okay?  Thanks.

Anthony Mandich , A Beautiful Man

Anthony Mandich's Original Art Depicting Marilyn Monroe in a Familiar Pose

Lena wins! She’s hot.

Lena singing "Satellite" to Anthony Mandich and 3,000,000,000 others

It’s Tuesday the First of June, 2010.  I slept all day long.  I woke up very groggy at 7pm or so.  Thirsty, Hungry, Still Tired, like a newborn and very cute baby mewling for milk.  I rub my eyes…I wonder what makes me wake up when I’m so tired and I was in this lovely dream with Briar.  Alls I remember is kissing and stuff.  It was nice. What woke me up?  Then I hear it again, the first few chords of Bolan’s Crash, by the fabulous New Bomb Turks.  It can only mean one thing,someone is texting me.  I find my Palm Pixi smashed under my leg and turn it on.  I’ve got texts up the ass.  Not literally.

So its an hour later right now.  I haven’t checked my texts but I did use You Tube to slowly reacclimate myself to the world.  Instead of doing the usual searches:  Poker Bad Beats, Poker Bluffs, MMA Fights, Hot Chicks, Phil Laak-Boy Genius, Hell on Earth etc., this time I just went with the Popular selections.

I entered the world of mass hysteria.  Gay.  For the most part.  Except Lena a hot German bitch who apparently won a contest I didn’t know existed for best song.  It must be something like American Idol I guess.  The video wasn’t even her song, it was just someone who was filming her a few minutes after she won, backstage, as she talked to the Prime Minister of some country, apparently Germany and a few other sycophantic individuals, kissing her ass and fawning over her, asking her ridiculous question after ridiculous question.

I gotta be honest.  She’s smoking fucking hot.  I would love to kiss her ass.  Ha ha ha.  I might as well be honest with you.  She made me feel real funny inside.  Its been a while since I got some!

Too bad I’ll never be able to hit that.  I think that’s all I got for today children.  See ya later kids.

Cleaned the Hovel I call a Room

Today was a topsy turvy crazy kind of a day.  Memorial Day and to be honest I still have not taken even a minute to remember the men and women who have died in support of the political machine i mean quest for more oil i mean fifty united states of america.  Well I threw in (and then used the incredible strikethrough feature on) some rather snide and sarcastic remarks before rallying and pulling “fifty united states of america” out of my asssssssssss.

I’m not really looking to fight that battle to be honest.  I think I just did it to impress my militant punk rock friend and brother Steve Jacobson.  He’s a pretty intensely politically incorrect sorta fella and what not.  Anyways.  Should we bow our heads now in a moment of silence to remember not just the veterans who have died for causes both just and unjust, but also to remember our loved ones who are no longer with us.

They don’t necessarily have to be dead, although thats the usual criteria I suppose.  Perhaps you are a psycho and someone you loved (obsessed, stalked, harrassed) obtained a restraining order against you so they are no longer with you.  Disturbing yes, fits the criteria for moment of silence?  Yes.

Perhaps like me, you were physically removed from a foreign country for overstaying your tourist visa by 716 days.  Its now out of your hands and you are no longer among many people and animals you have grown to love.  That fits too.

I’ve attended the funerals of my sister Natalie Anne Amador (Mandich), two of my much loved Aunts, Monica Monceaux and Nell Monceaux (in the last ten days) and they definitely count.  Aunty Nell’s funeral was today, this morning at St. Ireanaus Catholic Church in the police mecca, Cypress, California.  That was a lovely service.  It was incredible to see some cousins I used to get wasted with as a youth.  The service was presided over by a rather handsome priest Father Mac (i think thats his name).

Father Mac is interesting for a couple reasons other then the fact that he committed my Aunty Nell’s spirit to God.  He’s also the first priest I’ve personally ever seen who looks like Chris Cornell in the early Soundgarden days.   He’s also the first priest I’ve personally ever met who is John Wayne’s grandson.  Thats pretty bad ass actually. He was totally cool and of course for some wierd reason, he sought me out after the funeral  during the reception/lunch to ask me what my story was.  He thought I was either in a band or some kind of an artist.  Bingo.  So yeah anyways….

I saw my daughter Ciara over at my incredibly cool cousin Donna’s house in Anaheim Hills.  Man is she loaded.  They have a radical house, a full  skate park on the property complete with two bowls,  a bunch of ramps and a whole street course set up.  Sick.  And she has an excellent bar.  I turned her on to Caipiroskas.  I’m a bad ass bartender.  We’ll get into some bartender stories later but yeah I rock.  She was in love with them immediately and later when I was kicking my Uncles and Cousins asses at No Limit Texas Holdem (Blinds $1 and $2), she kept hitting me up to make more.  Thats when you know you basically dominate as a bartender by the way.

So I did see my daughter, who I love to death.  I bamboozled my family with poker skills, I shared lots of pics of my art with loads of family at the funeral.  I got to mingle with, chat to, and hug lots of people I love and I sat next to the hottest chick in church.  Actually I sat between two of the hottest chicks because I sat next to Donna, my cousin and this other nectar mama whose name I did not catch but whose arm and dress and sort of leg  I did come in contact with many times.  The sad thing is she must be young because she is my cousin Yvette’s daugher Alyssa’s friend.  But fuck man, she is definitely of legal age and smoking hot.  Yikes.  We hit it off definitely.  She thinks I’m hot definitely.  She thinks I’m cool definitely.  I want to bed her.  Definitely.  Yowza.

What else?  Shit I could go on and on because I am a pontificating wind bag who thinks nobody has anything better to do then read about my life.  Really I have no point in this post or any posts ad infinitum.  Trust me.  You don’t wanna follow me.  Thanks for stopping by today but really just spend your internet time more wisely in the future.  There are plenty of informative and incredibly interesting web sites out there that have the potential to actually enrich and nourish your need for worthy content.  This is not one of them.

God Bless us everyone!  Bye bye.

P.S.  Let me give a shout out to the following cousins, all children of my Aunty Nell, and some of my favorite people on the planet.

Alan Monceaux (wonderful man, balding, yet still ruggedly handsome, suffered a major heart attack at a young age and the telling of that story is frickin fascinating)

Cindy Monceaux (all time favorite cousin, we almost drowned together in Mexico, which is a special bonding moment)

Roseanne Monceaux (also all time favorite cousin, she gave me $40 bucks for a buy in at Hawaiian Gardens Casino when I was broke. I love that woman)

Richard Monceaux (unable to attend funeral but a very bald man who is a very cool cousin of mine.  His son attended in his absence and has a very wierd Pittsburgh accent, but a cool young bucka lucka nonetheless)

Patrice Monceaux (she is married so obviously has another name, I have no idea what that name is.  however her husband is quite cool, and she has two very pretty daughters)

Nadine Monceaux (for some reason I’ve always kinda thought of Nadine as a hippy  (Ish).  She is a lovely very cool and very hot cousin of mine. but yeah i dunno why she reminds me of the beatick  movement in all its glory)

Yvette Monceaux (two lovely daughters and she’s a lovely lady herself.  saw her ex husband today (steve) i haven’t seen him in years. so that was cool.

Ian McCall, MMA fighter and Facebook afficionado

Memorial Day Can Suck It

Just kidding.  I been sleepy sleeepy slleeeeeeepppy little boy today cuz I stayed up most of the weekend working on some art.  I never really got it when I was younger.  I heard alot of stories about how artists suffered anonymously for their entire lives, living in poverty, afflicted with demons of all kinds.  I scoffed.  I really did.  I was like, “pfffff, he cut off his ear?  what a homo!”.

maybe thats a bad example.  I don’t want to scare anybody away lol.  but i feel like i am literally killing myself….sacrificing my health to the god of art.  its hard to explain.  i stay up way too late…..way way way too fucking late.  i sacrifice too much, i ingest solvents and eat paint and take drugs and light cigarettes just  cuz i want the ashes to smear on some bitches eye to get a quick shadow on a canvas.

way more shit then that.  i just woke up so i’m not making sense which is great for my first entry on this horrible wordpress blog that i was shamed into beginning by an insane woman named Michelle Manire.  as if i don’t already spend way too much time doing this type of madness.

duh…i am an idiot.  but once i’m dead watch out.  i’ll be a famous idiot plucked out of the ashes of obscurity by the fickle god of popularity.  my future generations fortunes are assured.

good night now.  i am literally starving and its time for some nourishment other then marlboro lights, insanely hot bloody mary mix and sour patch kids.

Anthony Mandich Artist-Sycophant-Narcissus’ younger hotter

A Silly Piece Made With Graphic Scraps

kid Brother

Hello world!

Anthony Mandich and Briar Scragg

Little did I realize that I had a post already.  Funny. I don’t remember posting a Hello world entry.  Must have been a typo, if I was thinking correctly it would have been Hell World.  That’s a direct reference to the state and condition of the hovel I refer to as my art studio/bedroom.

In retrospect I’m quite pleased that an entry exists that I can edit because I want to take a second and let my three readers know what is going to be going on in this here jaunt through cyberspace.  First my name is Anthony Mandich.  I am the king.  Of my room.

I was talked into beginning this from a friend named Michelle Manire, a self professed genius who is carving her own little slice of fame and fortune out of the internet.  Since our paths don’t directly cross, and I don’t feel she is a threat to my continued rise out of obscurity I can give her props.

She will live to regret encouraging me like this.  Giving me a license to say what I want to say is like giving a skid row bum the keys to the liquor store.  Not a good idea.

Quickly….art, poker, females, underdogs, Delara Darabi, Lin Zhao, Steve Jacobson, Briar Scragg, Ciara Mandich, Anthony Mandich, drugs, injustice, the system, Full Tilt Poker, Mike Matusow and Tom Dwan, Josh Erlenmeyer, Sister Kitty Lee, Heather Paulhamus, chick music, retarded and juvenile behavior, punk rock, my hair, how sexy I think I am, me, Anthony Mandich, Norco Living, Australia, New Zealand, skateboarding, the smell of pot, how much I hate pot, degeneracy, (wow that’s a word?), Photoshop, Brenda Bayne, Partnership for a Drug Free America, tattoos, strippers, being defriended, pains in my neck from being on the computer too long, Nada Hussein, Commerce Casino, Hawaiian Gardens Casino, Sean Stenlake, poker heads up in my room, sick gambling addictions, Charles McEldowney, loyalty, throwing under the bus, Melbourne, Ariana Parker, sex, chicks, sycophancy, (wow thats a word?), mirrors, obsession with, baths at 3 am, posers, EDD, Andrew Justice, Bar Europa, Mr. Mary’s, Hotel Clarendon, Natalie Mandich, Walmart, Bodog, Sportsbook.com, internet gambling, Palm Pixi by Sprint, Uncle Gordon, living in squalor, Danna Mason, Laura Jean, Radiohead, Air, Nelly Furtado, gay, tagged photos, deliberately obtuse people, pompous pontificating blow hards named Anthony Mandich, talented people who waste their lives, squandering thousands, tilt, anger, frustration, pride, Satanthony, God, Jesus Mary and Joseph, Creepy Rodney, San Manuel Casino, up all night, LA, methamphetamines, Andrew, bridge burning, people on their death bed looking at me and asking if I’m still alive with incredulous looks on their faces, Penny and James, Charlotte (gag me), Ella Hughes, Andre from NZ, Andre from Australia, Stellar Bar, Rancid, Crowne Casino, TSA, November Clothing, KR3W, Angel Cabada, Chris Franz, Clay my brother, Chip Davies, Heather Davies, Uncle Mike, gambling roots, psychobabble, the homosexual community, running out of gas, Wellington, Maya Bar, Lyall Bay, haters, fucking them up, Candace my lost hot girlfriend, cell phone scams, being an idiot loser, Supersuckers, Jason Rhodes, sisters of friends who I always wanted to fuck, pigeons, sleeping in the kitchen, Ice, P, Glass, Jamie Vendivel, prison mentality, murderers, hell bound evil fucks, being politically correct, apathy, William Kerr, Toorak, the model Jane Wise, drug smuggling, Jim Waataja, floormen, MMA, UFC, TapouT, Ian McCall, the Navy, SEALs training, drunk driving, CHP officers who let you off because they know your siblings, driving when awake for 3 days, seeing the sun come up, the ocean, cruise ships, The Humpers and Scott Drake, the Angels in 2002, Costa Mesa, Holly, ex girlfriends I’d like to fuck again, everything unholy, good kids, bad kids, knowing the difference, genuine bohemians, self absorbed jackasses, beer and why I hate it, cocktails and why I love them,  reasons I have to leave now cuz Creepy Rodney is here….

Those are just some of the topics and more that I will be expounding upon in the coming days.  Enjoy faithful readers.  Bye Bye.