Man, GetYour Dog’s Ass Out Of That Other Dog’s Nose


Sitting here with Johnny Anonymous my longtime friend from Crown Town, taking in the sights and sounds of picturesque Temecula, California on a Thursday night in February of 2016.  I went running this morning after staying up all night long working on my painting, setting up sexual rendezvous via craigslist.com, working on some photoshop shit, and thinking about life I guess.  All night long I meant to go running and all night long I found myself doing one thing after another that kept me from walking out the door of my room at the Best Western and into the mean streets.  I really did mean to go in the middle of the night too because I love running at night especially down Winchester to where it dead ends in the wilderness.  I have a sharp knife that I wear around my neck in case I come across a wild wolf, a pack of coyotes or some homicidal homeless cracked out motherfuckers.  The knife is called a CRKT Minimimalist  and if you are in the market for a stealth knife that can do some serious damage and will slice a dude’s arm all up if you need to defend yourself from attack, then by all means I heartily recommend investing the $39.99 plus tax and getting yourself one.   Okay, back to me, and my story about me and my running plans.  So finally at 7:30 a.m. I decided that enough time had passed  waiting for anonymous sex with anonymous strangers that never show up, going overboard with the black paint pen on my junkie angel painting and other assorted  miscellaneous wheel spinnage opportunities such as checking out worldstarhiphop’s vine comp collection so I finally slipped on my black nike running shoes and my tight nike running pants  got my headphones on tuned my youtube music into a little Selena Gomez that wunderkind goddess, pulled up the runtastic app on my samsung cell phone pushed play, started activity and ran straight from  my room turned right on Jefferson and headed into my personal record book.  That’s right I said record book.  I ran exactly five miles in 40: 50 which may not sound like much to you but it is out of this world to me.  That’s a pace of 8:10 per mile for five fucking miles straight.  I can tell you right now that I have never run that fast of a time for five miles in my life.  Remember that I just started running October 6th.  I just took a look at the times I was doing for five mile runs back then and they are a joke.  I’m talking about 12:00 + miles pretty much.  That’s an hour for five miles.  Since then in a little over four months I have managed to cut 4 minutes PER MILE off of my time.  I know it’s nothing that special compared to the rest of humanity but it seems really dramatic to me for some reason.

Who cares right?  I mean really…bitch

 

Nobody gives a fuck about my running time today.  That makes me a little bit sad.  I don’t think that anybody truly gives a fuck about anybody else.  You know what, inxnay that last.  That’s purely bullshit and I knew it before I wrote it.

Just had an impromptu one man concert for a one man audience, my longtime friend and occasional business comrade, Mr. Johnny Anonymous.  I was trying to cheer him up you see.  He has been down in the doldrums for quite some time now.  He is a sensitive guy and has too much heart for this cruel and twisted world that we live in.  What better music than Paranoid Android to be playing decadently in the air like small golden air nymphs fluttering in the night, swirling in and out of my brain and ears and eyes with the haunting melody sure to be the soundtrack of eternity and

wow….

I just got off on a tangent in my head the past hour while I typed not even one word.  Some hip hop band is staying in the room next to me here at the Best Western and I have been playing songs in my room that I think I sound good singing in the hopes that they might need my services as a back ground singer or the one who does the hook or something whatever.  A fluffer even….hahahah nah not that.  These dudes are black and big and I’m not about to be the fluffer but anyways right now I am listening to C-Bank “One More Shot” which was one of my favorite songs back in the good old days 30 years ago. That’s the last song in the series I just got down with even after Johnny left.  Lyrics Born doing Callin’ Out and I copied the lyrics to a word document so I could sing every word.  It sounded cool as fuck.  Also did “Some LA Niggaz” the bad ass jam by Dr. Dre Xzibit and others.  So fucking sick.  Also Common “The Light” just got played again.  I still love that song even though I don’t know a girl it could ever apply to because romance is dead in my life. Queen I ain’t seen you in a minute…..more like Queen I ain’t ever seen you in my life….I would rather get the aggression out by screaming every word of Hit Em Up by Tupak.  I love that song too just because of the huge diss factor and its so brave it seems and prophetic as all hell.

Y’all niggaz ain’t even on my level….

Laughing.  Kidding.  Don’t get all sad.

I’ve been sitting here waiting for this drama queen who wants to confront me in person about calling her dumb ass out on my blog but she is fucking lagging so hard that I am getting impatient.

First off, fuck your bitch and the click you claim
Westside when we ride come equipped with game
You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life

What a luxurious ride this life really is for me.  I must admit that any time I want to bitch about my life that I deserve to be bitch slapped because I am really lucky to be able to enjoy as much of my existence that I actually do.  I haven’t had a job in a long fucking time.  Not that I don’t want one but it just seems like so much of an ordeal to go through that for now I just can’t seem to see the forest through the trees, the light at the end off the tunnel etc etc.

Anybody that tuned into this post to actually read something interesting is going to be pretty disappointed I suppose.  I wish I could tell you guys some stories of what has been going on in my life but I feel like I would be incriminating somebody in something so I am going to err on the side of caution and just shut the fuck up.

Is There Anybody Out There? Is There Anybody Out There?


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.

WHY YOU SO GAY TONY


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.

No Shame: The Anthony Mandich Saga


thanks swingin’ utters for that tasty title.  you control your rage and you resist the crime because you’re the next in line. i am simply pumping the utters right now in my squalid den.   this place is worse then it was when i wrote the story about cleaning the hovel i call a room a year ago.  believe me you don’t want to see it.  its fucking horrible but actually pretty rad.  i’m in rare form today.  especially with the murder city devils singing about sailor’s girls and trucker’s wives as they are now.  the only thing.  the only thing i ever wanted is going to fuck you over is going to fuck us up.  to be left behind.  you should know.  like a smuggler like a trucker. etc. etc. etc.

so the royal wedding has taken place obviously.  i got an email from Life magazine informing me of the availability of the pictorials.  i went and violated the copyright law and “grabbed” on with my special “grab” tool and went crazy on it for an hour or two just totally uncontrolled crazy millions of gradients and erased spots and color fill layers and trasnparent red spray paint on inverted colour burnt layers probably maybe 50 layers and all copy merged and transformed and filtered liquified and color dodged and rasterized and just nuts.  then flattened the whole fucking thing without saving any of my work and here that is okay.  (as rhianna is singing “so if you feel me let me know know know ” HAHAHAHA SOME PUNK ROCK TOUGH GUY I AM) fuck it.  shut up and read.

once i ran to you now i run from you.  now i know i’ve got to run away i’ve got to get away.  (social distortion singing about tainted love) don’t touch me please i cannot stand the way you…..

ramble on and make no sense and expect everybody to follow your manic episode hahahaha.  i love you though you hurt me so .

now i’m (literally) going to pack my things and go.

i sold the tascam 38 8 channel reel to reel recorder that i got from james morris via the city of rancho cucamonga and so cal sandbags.  on ebay.  the highest bidder was francisco from monrovia.  francisco drove over to my house yesterday to pay me exactly 265 dollars.  that was the winning bid.  awesome.  i was so stoked.  it was so needed.  don’t forget that i have to be out of this house by sunday thats in two fucking days my friends.  two days.  jesus mary and joseph.  i’m not even packed.

but i am listening to thriller by michael jackson which is pretty bad ass.  before that was stone cold crazy that metalliica song.  i went to pechanga with the 265 last night.  i know it was stupid but i need so much more then 265 if you know what i mean.  i owe my buddy landon 100 bucks and he’s go tone of my best paintings in hock until i pay him.  the thing is he needs the money and i need cash to move.  at least 500 for that etc etc etc.  so i walked out of pechanga with 1300.  that was pretty bad ass.  played SOME POKER on the big kids table (100-300 buy in) and got lucky with pocket aces my second hand and doubled up easily.  went on to pretty much fuck shit up at that table and walked downstairs with my pocket STUFFED

lol

full of $5 chips.  rad.

won all night basically.  and walked with it all.  went straight to the donut shop lol got my chocolate milk glazed twist and choccy twist and then went and got car insurance for $178 before my registration gets suspended on the 9th of may.  i was reminded about that when my friend stephanie burns told me about some dude friend of hers who got pulled over by the cops with a shit ton of meth on him.  he got five years in prison.  and why did he get pulled over?  oh because he had suspended registration on his car like a moron.  poor guy.  not that i’m driving around with shit tons of anything illicit but still it reminded me that it would be a pretty good idea to get  insurance.  so i did that.  yay for me.

only my die hard admirers will have read this far in this post cuz its a bullshit post to be sure.  by the way “we can be heroes” at least according to david bowie.  i’ve got a couple of options for places to

she is known the world wide as eighth letter.

live now which is cool….one’s in eastvale and one’s in crown town by the golf course where my sister used to bartend at.  i heard some incredibly disturbing stories about my sisters deasth last night.  i’m not gonna say who told me or what they told me because there is litigation going on but its fucking horrible and it put me in a sick goosebumps on my head horror stricken mood for a couple hours last night.  i am going to tell our lawyer about it.  enough about that.

by the way i apologize for any times i’ve ever been a fair weathered friend to anybody i know.  just saying that for sincerely reals i won’t say why on that one either but yeah i had to put someone in check actually two someones in check last night.  i know i’m a taker lots and not always a giver materially but i do feel like i am a giver emotionally and friendship wise but if not sorry about that and i can only strive to improve myself.

well shit i got shit to do you guys so thankfully for you i’m going to close this shitty little entry out.  hope you can forgive me for the

call her what you will she's still my mom

terrible incomprehensible shadowy sing song say nothing chant of a rant that defines the makeup of this story today.  i’m sorry.  my mind is in a million and one places you have no idea.  talk soon.

sometimes i feel i’ve got to run away i’ve got to get away

Eric Schlenker and the Crown Town Punx Part 1.


Kind of what I imagine when I think of a bank robber in Jail

Well, I’ve wondered for years now what ever became of my friend Eric Schlenker.  I’ve googled him a few times and once a couple years ago I found a guy with the same name who was a Christian leader type and a graphic artist.  I don’t want to sound like a doubting Tony here but I had my doubts if it was the same Eric Schlenker to be honest although to my credit, I did actually send this other Eric Schlenker guy a little email asking him if  he was familiar with Crown Town, the Crown Town Punx, or anything of a similar nature.  For some reason I don’t recall getting a response.

This is me, Anthony Mandich, about a year after Eric Schlenker and I started getting into shenanigans

Eric and I became friends when I didn’t really have any.  I lived on two acres of orange trees, surrounded on either side by exactly one house (each with its own acreage of orange trees).  That was it.  On the whole street except for at the very very top about a mile away there were a couple of ramshackle little houses (one of which contained some good friends of mine The Alcantars).  Basically I lived in the orange groves straight out.  There was a strange factory across the street that made some sort of rubber products, and Pete’s Road Service separated the three modern houses (including mine) and the more rundown houses at the top of the street.  Other then that there wasn’t jack shit on my street except potholes and lots of orange trees and bare fields with nothing but squirrels and weeds.

Anthony Mandich thought he was so cool....what a fool

Man I was so fucking miserable living in that house.  The address was 18430 Compton Avenue, Corona, California.  Our family had just moved there from a cool part of town, from Citron Avenue.  There was a park there and smooth streets for skateboarding and lots of kids my age (even though I got picked on alot).  I was super bummed when we moved and I know it had some serious consequences for my life looking back for sure.  I felt like an outcast so I began to act like an outcast and for me that meant PUNK ROCK.   Pretty typical beginning for any aspiring rebel juvenile delinquent  to tell the truth.  Except that I had parents who weren’t about to put up with any sort of shit like that from me.

I butted heads fiercely with my step dad and to make a long story short one day I met this kid named Eric who lived with his dad who he didn’t really get along that good with either.  He was a tiny bit older then me (like 8 months or something) and he was cool.  We sorta looked alike, dark hair and whatnot, slender good looking wanna be cool guys and so we started hanging out.  For some reason we decided that we didn’t want to live with our parents anymore.   I guess I was about 14 at this time and Eric was my first real foray into real trouble.  His mom lived in New Mexico and we thought it would be great to run away and go there and start  out some kind of crazy existence over there.  So thats what we did.

Anthony and Natalie

We ran away a few times together.  The furthest we ever got was Blythe, California.  I pussed out in Blythe.  We had gotten on a Greyhound bus in LA and we only had enough money to get to Blythe.  We arrived there at 2 in the morning or something stupid like that and it was so fucking incredibly fucking cold that I ended up calling my parents and my dad ended up driving out to Blythe right then and there to pick me up.  Eric was having none of that action.  He knew that his father was going to beat the shit out of him if he came home so he tried to carry on with the mission alone.  He got picked up by the Blythe Police and sent home anyway and yes he did get his ass beat by his dad, an ordeal I witnessed first hand.  I don’t remember why exactly I was there to witness his dad beating the shit out of him with a belt but I was.  Definitely.  I know I sound like such a soft little bitch but you have to remember Blythe is in the desert and we ran away the day after Christmas.  I waited until then because I knew I was getting Penny Loafers for Christmas and I wanted to make sure I got those before I took off.

Well thats one little story about Eric and me.  There are lots more that I will try to get to but not right now okay.  Anyways I was pretty sad to find out today that Eric recently got arrested for committing a bank robbery in New Mexico and is looking at 20 years in a Federal Prison.

Check out this link:  http://www.justice.gov/usao/nm/pr/2011/2011-02-18_schlenker_br_pr.pdf

Eric Schlenker's arrest announcement for bank robbery (US Department of Justice)

 

 

I drop unexpectedly like birdshit


Check out the screen shot. It says it all biotch.

I got a feeling that tonight’s gonna be a good night.  Do you ever just wake up in a good mood and kinda know that whatever you get up to that day its gonna be all good?  I got that feeling today.  I slept for hours upon hours.  Ya see I’ve been on a crazy painting streak for days basically sleeping only when I fall asleep from exhaustion and waking up and painting again.  Last night, or really this morning about 4:30 a.m. I took a super hot bath that drained the last remaining vestiges of energy from my body and I got out threw on my calvin kleins and hopped in my bed with the dogs and didn’t even stir until 3pm.  It was fucking great.

I took my bed out of my room because there is NO ROOM for it anymore with all of my paintings and shit all over the place.  We have like a living room type situation upstairs and I just put it out there.  The only sorta fucked up thing about it being out there is Woody and Snickers refuse to get out of it.  I mean I can physically maim them to get them out but as soon as I go back into my painting studio the fucking dogs are right back in there.  And these dogs are not content to just lay on top of the bed down below where “Master’s” feet go like a couple of good dogs would do.  Since they are not good dogs they feel it imperative to lay on top of my pillows (Snickers) or underneath the blankets (Woody).  I personally don’t feel like this is correct behavior for these dogs but they are unruly delinquent beasts and I can’t tell them what to do it seems.

Oh well, my mom’s gonna be home soon like in four days or something.  She’s on vacation in the Cayman Islands and when she gets back she can pack up her mutts and take them back to Palm Desert where she lives in some Country Club place on the golf course.  Let them run amok at her house and good riddance.   I did film about 12 bad ass videos of them while they were here visiting.  Funny as hell ones.  Making them howl at the moon, getting Snickers to butt ram Woody, locking them in Doggy Jail and seeing if they can get out, putting them out in the front and leaving the screen door shut but the front door open until they incessantly would jump and scratch on the screen door while I ignored them, cooking food and getting them all pumped up like they are going to get some then telling them to eat my balls they ain’t getting shit and filming their sad, confused, disturbed reactions hahahahahaha.  Watching Snickers empty all the trash cans everywhere and chew up everything until the house looks like a dump and then film Snickers get just screamed at by my Uncle Gordon.   All sorts of tasty visual treats that I may or may not share with my adoring public at some point.

Okay well I’m listening to some Notorious B.I.G. Life after Death Disc 1 which is so bad ass.  I’m gonna paint for a bit then maybe go play some poker with Darin “Dazzzzza” Byrne, a friend of mine who is a d.j. at Captain Creme’s Gentlemen’s Club in Lake Forest.  I’ll let you know how the night turns out.

By the way, I got an unbelievable response to my post about Billy Wedgeworth and my sister Natalie Amador and the whole Suicide in Jail issue.  I mean like 150 more hits then I normally get on my blog which is like maybe 80 per day.  So thanks for that support everyone.

You should know my stilo, went from 10gs for blow to 30g’s a show to orgies with whores I’ve never seen before so Jeeeeeesus get off the notorious PEEEEEEEEEEEEEnis before I squeeze and bust if the beef between us we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit…….

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