AXM stands for Anthony Xanadu Mandich

In 2017 the author, aging so slowly that whispers began to permeate regarding his nefarious dealings with the devil, decided that it was time to call in all of the favors he had managed to squirrel away over a decade of decadance and begin his own personal crusade to wring out every drop of life from his life, becoming a hero of some kind and getting all the chicks, while saving the world.
To be honest the details were a little sketchy still but the combination of PMA, boner pills, a harsh workout regimen and tons of mangos was beginning to become impossible to ignore and fascinating to be a part of.
You are lucky enough to enter this sordid yet enthralling world with Anthony X. Mandich, and at the very least, bear witness to his indomitable spirit, dashing good looks, plethora of lady callers and fierce fighting skills in the coming months.
Allegations of impropriety between Anthony X. and Dracula’s bride still persist but in this day and age a simple vampire encounter resulting in immortality is not interesting or controversial enough to make the jaded citizenry of the greater Los Angeles area even take notice of let alone talk about and this allows for Mr. Mandich and his cohorts to enjoy some much appreciated anonymity while the details of his crusade are being finalized.


Welcome…take my hand and lets begin.

beware the wrath of /b/ 4chan/b/ versus @flyguyparsons

Screen shot taken from the twitter account of Aaron Jacob Parsons

Its been an interesting day in Cyberspace.  A perfect storm of sorts has come together and unleashed her fury on in the form of thousands and thousands of views of an article I wrote regarding Aaron Jacob Fosters yesterday.  As of 7:01 p.m. tonight I have had 6,938 people from 11 countries visit my website and read what I wrote. There 3,583 clicks of links that I provided that contain more information/corroboration of the crimes that are proven alleged by what I have written, all of which originated on the /b/ forum on  I want to take this opportunity to give props to the guys and girls who reside at /b/.  They might be a little warped but collectively they hold a great deal of power in their fingertips.  It was awesome to be a witness to this power as it unfolded.  Awesome as in I was awestruck and still am.  Certainly it is not a good idea to get on the bad side of a group that has this kind of power at its disposal.  Even worse to do it when they are bored and frothing at the bit for something to do.

It seems a bit of a foregone conclusion that the consequences are going to be severe and swift for the individuals responsible for the degrading beat down and robbery of the still unnamed victim in this case.  I feel absolutely no sympathy for the perpetrators.  I don’t give a shit what they have to say about it or what their excuse is or if they even remember what they were doing because of intoxication levels , temporary amnesia etc.  I really hope that prison is the end result for Aaron Jacob Parsons and everyone else involved, especially that annoying drunk bitch wearing her black panties parading around the street like she was some glamour queen.  Fuck her.  (man she STILL pisses me off)

The haters calling me racist can all suck it to be honest.  I am not even going to bother addressing that accusation.  It’s not true and my life and anything I’ve ever written in the past will attest to that FACT.  So, hate on haters.

I got a call from a reporter named Justin from the Baltimore Sun.  We talked for quite a few minutes about the origin of this situation, 4chan’s /b/ forum and more.  His view, stated to me anyhow, was that this is an instance of the internet being used for good and he was quick to show his admiration for the detective work done by the /b/ forum lurkers.  I agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment.  Choosing to fight against the “forces that /b/ is the ultimate example of the idiot who brings a knife to a gun fight”.

Have a good night everyone……Anthony Mandich

ImageADDENDUM: I replied to an email from the reporter I mentioned.  Here is what I had to say.  And I quote:

hey justin it was good talking to you.  i’m sending you this stuff before i even blog it so i must think you’re cool.  just don’t get me killed lol.

here is a quote from me if you want
“aaron jacob parsons is a wanted man”….post after post on /b/ repeated those words. it was late i was annoyed.  the arrogance shown by @flyguyparsons and @CASHton-Kutcher by posting the video of themselves proudly separating a man from his dignity really angered me.  they acted like it was so funny and so cool.
to beat down a guy like that, seemingly with impunity when: 
(A) he didn’t deserve it  and 
(B) couldn’t do anything about it but bleed and sit there bewildered, humiliated and alone and 
(C) further add to his pain by taking everything of value in his possession, stripping him naked, and letting some ugly drunk annoying bitch slap him open palmed across his face while he’s on his back  just didn’t sit well with me.
and the poor guy took it like a champ.  he didn’t defend himself (which was probably smart in this instance because this was a bear that you had to play dead against for sure.  so yeah he didn’t defend himself but he also didn’t bring further dishonor to himself by crying, pissing or moaning.  
two things resonated strongly with me.
1. the images of parsons mugging for the camera before the humiliation began and then creeping up and start digging through the guys pockets like it was a big joke.  i really hated that.
2.  that ugly chick wearing her panties with her big old ass all drunk grinding on the guy before it all started and then when he was down on his back she’s there standing behind his head and starts slapping in his face HARD and he can’t even see where these blows are coming from because she is standing behind his head.  that was particularly cowardly and thinking about it right now gets my blood boiling.  
you asked me what was different about this video as opposed to the many other millions of videos that are out there on the internet.  I am going to answer that with a post i did on some girls from a sorority at bowling green who were tragically killed in a car accident a few weeks ago.  my answer is obvious.

Fucking Horny.


got such a yearning for some completely ethereal woman goddess to  come steal my soul and force me to worship her.  its like this ache that is more than sexual.  i mean obviously although i have tried to talk to myself into believing that one of the many girls from my past was meant to be my destiny none of them actually were.  that makes me super sad in a way but also really relieved and happy in a way too.  maybe it was all my fault in each and every doomed relationship but so be it man.  whatever the case may have been i was obviously not content enough to conform to the unspoken boundaries that i know and they knew i was confined to. no matter what the reason was for my deliberate hard headed stubborn  way of living the bottom line remains the same.

my destiny woman, if she even exists which i doubt, but i hope, will be a woman who i can throw my whole being into and  who i never have to even care if we are at home or out living in the forest by ourselves or in a big city because she so fully captivates me and i her that the rest of the world ceases to exist in any meaningful way.  the one.  everybody talks about the one.  do they even know what they are saying what they are hoping for what they are dreaming about.

i have had wondrous nights of incredible leave this planet kind of lust filled sexual frenzy tongue in mouth until lips are chapped can’t get enough of her or her of me.  hundreds of those nights with probably a hundred girls.  why couldn’t i sustain that zest that passion that look at her always and be horny in my heart and in my pants?

just give me my soulmate make it clear to me that she is my soulmate and let me fend for myself with her.  i don’t want riches i don’t want fame (well yeah i do unless i get her) just give me the woman of my dreams who is searching for the man of her dreams and when she dreams she sees my face and touches my lips and i hers.  give her to me while i still have time to enjoy her.  i want to experience that great love that rare as fuck love the kind that you don’t talk about cuz its so fucking amazing you don’t even have time to brag or boast all you have time to do is stare at her and miss her when she is gone its not an obsession but you can’t live (happily) without being by her side where a weekend away is pretty traumatic.

i will trade it all for her.

woman if you are out there look for anthony mandich and find him before it is too late.  universe if it is someone i know now let me know.

Current Events or 15 Ways to Love your Leaver

Kony 2012 is a video I have decided that I don’t have any desire to see.  I don’t know why I don’t know what Kony 12 can kiss my butt.  Sorry I just woke up after a pretty long period of rest on the couch at Heather Batchelder’s house in beautiful, picturesque Tustin, California.

I’m  not too sure how the Encyclopedia Dramatica does it. Their entries all have hundreds of links to all sorts of interesting and exciting content.  I can’t imagine how fucking long it takes them to write each of their posts.  Kudos to them.  Although I can’t claim to know a quarter of the shit about the internet that they do and therefore I am often lost trying to keep up with what they are talking about, starting with any one of their entries is a good fucking way to get fucking lost in internet hell for a day.  Or longer.  The internet, the real internet, wow….it’s truly a scary place full of hidden gems and content galore and if you don’t have control over yourself (and I don’t) then you can easily find yourself losing whole chunks of time basically doing nothing except filling your head up with knowledge, theories, half assed suppositions, biased reporting on demented and seldom heard of topics, gore and death with a sprinkling of funny, feel good shit but mostly a lot of sex and death to be honest. Okay, so I’m reading the paragraph I just typed out and imagining all of the different psycho locations I could take you guys on just by linking to the words I’ve written and it comes over me that I have quite a bit of power in these attractive hands of mine.  If you have read this far then that means I’ve got you on the hook and really its up to me  not you where that hook can take you.  Do you want to go to heaven or hell? Would you rather get the hell part over with while you are on this mostly hellish planet or do you want to forego all the suffering and experience divinity firsthand while still alive?  Good question you say.  Or maybe you don’t who really gives a fuck?  I don’t because I know that I don’t even have one true fan of my rambling writing.  Nope there isn’t even one person out there that can honestly say that they can’t wait for my next post, or that they have read everything I have ever written.  Nobody could pass even a simple trivia test based on the many posts that have preceded this one.  I don’t even think I could.  After all, I was higher then a kite for the majority of the posts on this website and I have never really had the time to go back through and read over every single one of them.  I’m not a professional blogger.  I don’t get paid jack shit for writing this.  I can’t even tell you why I bother writing this (we’re back again to NOBODY GIVES A RAT’S ASS) blog.  I know its not fresh or hip or cool. I know I sound like a fool and a tool and most of you wish I would drown in a pool or fall off my stool.  Lame.  All of it.  Lame.  The same.  Shame.  Fame is something I will never get.  Yet I seek it.  Couldn’t even tell you why but I assume the answer begins with the buzzword Narcissism.  Okay listen I’m sorry for sounding so stupid in this paragraph. I’m going to stop with the stupid now and tell you guys a good story .  So if you’ve somehow risen above (whatever that means) and made it to this point of this story then you are in luck because you are about to get a true story from the archives of my life.


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.

Someone literally took a shit on the floor in the High Limit bathroom at San Manuel Casino.

Quite a catchy title.  

Completely true title.  I walked into the aforementioned bathroom Saturday night during UFC 139  and was immediately hit with the stench of rotten beer, beans, cabbage, dirt and moldy velveeta.  In such a confined space, with no windows, and the smell of  Shit with a capital S pervading my nostrils, I had no choice but to piss on the floor in a form of silent protest.  It’s one thing to take my money and not give a rat’s ass about it.  

Subjecting me to the smell of a deranged gambler’s ass after he has gone day after day with nothing but a steady diet of Bud Light, cow shit and San Manuel’s special chili cheesedick dogs is a whore of a whole nother color.  I was not surprised to see an actual shit log sitting about 7 inches to the left of the toilet bowl after I caught wind of the stench that preceded it let me tell you.  That was nasty as hell.  I’ve been noticing all kinds of nasty little things angry gamblers do to reap small helpings of revenge from San Manuel Casino.  Especially San Manuel Casino.  

Many times I’ve seen the toilet itself along with the toilet paper the walls and floor but not the bowl become the resting place for gallon after gallon of drunk angry stinky yellow urine.  A week ago, someone had a bloody something in the same high limit bathroom and must have just stood there bleeding for thirty minutes or so it seemed based on the 2 foot wide puddle of blood I encountered when I walked in to have a moment of respite from the demoralizing, continuously degrading losing streak  that San Manuel has me blindly staggering my way through.  Many times I’ve seen people, mostly guys, intentionally miss the ash tray side of the trash cans.  Instead they opt to throw the lit cigarette inside the trash can hoping it will start a small, smoky fire.

The spittle drenched stogies these derelicto extremus types suck down often find their way, still lit, to the horse hair carpet that covers much of the gulag style  interior of  San Manuel’s Great Hall of Gambling downstairs.  Those times which come quite often on weekends, are a treat for the senses, and a bit of good fun I definitely have partaken in myself.  I’ve seen many examples of drinks such as cranberry juice, ash laden orange juice and beer flavored coffee being deftly and secretly poured into the silver tray under most slot machines or into the slot machine itself, on the rug, into the sand that is supposed to extinguish the cigarettes and pretty much everywhere but in peoples fat camel toed bellies or the trash can.  

Razor blades smuggled in via wives visiting their gambler convict husbands account for many shredded kevlar covered chairs at San Manuel and it does my heart good to see signs of overt and malicious damage like that.  Those chairs are nearly impossible to slice through (or so I’ve been told ha ha ha) and you really have to appreciate the effort that it takes to covertly damage them without being witnessed by the utterly useless, fat ass, piece of shit, rent a cop donkey assholes, otherwise known as Public Safety Officers that patrol the highways and byways of their domain, vigilantly searching for scofflaws and sleeping gamblers.  

Its fun to fuck with the fat ass guards there let me tell you.  I especially love it when they ask you to show them i.d. and you tell them to fuck off and you walk away and out of the casino and they can’t do a single fucking thing about it except mutter incomprehensible threats about how they better not see you again in the next 24 hours or “they” will arrest you.  That’s a laugh you think to yourself as you continue to walk completely untouched out to your car and drive away.  “if they could have arrested me they would have arrested me but since they are rent a cop, police academy rejects,  all bark and absolutely no bite for anyone with a clue about the 4th amendment, they can’t arrest me now or ever”.  

The foregoing rant is not meant in any way to  convey that the losers like myself who frequent shit hole money burning places like San Manuel and lose their cool to the point of vandalizing the place, are causing the casino anything but a very slight annoyance, and in fact are doing more to harm themselves then to actually hurt the casino in any way.  San Manuel always wins.  But still, Fuck San Manuel, may they roast in hell!!!

Here are some very honest reviews of San Manuel Casino for you to enjoy:

here is a picture of an ass i want to eat for days.  i bring it to you in order to break up a little of the vile trash truth that is unfortunately, san manuel casino, the worst casino in the entire world.

Here’s a very nice review of San Manuel Casino’s accomodations:

How about a little love for San Manuel’s Ampitheatre, the happiest place on earth?

This is a really scintillating review of San Manuel Casino:

What I’m really getting at here people is you should stay the fuck away from San Manuel.  All of their games suck bad.  They steal your money.  Straight up.  Its not slander, its purely fact.  Their slot machines are fucking tighter than a gnat’s ass, the waitresses are sea hags from hell, the security guards are fucking neanderthals, the place stinks, the parking structure is like a maze to get out of, the drink service is so abysmal, you might as well stay at home.  If you do go there though, be sure to remember that you have rights and tell them all to suck it hard.



I was never that into you anyway.  That’s what I tell myself on rainy days in November when you pop into my mind for a fleeting second or two.  

Your money or your life.  Your money and your life.  Your money is your life.  You have no life.  You have no money.  

Gordon Klerks,  Marie Doe, Heather Batchelder, Heather McGovern, J**y R***a…..five people who helped me out today in important ways.  

UFC 139…witnessed inside the buffet hall at San Manuel Casino…was a bargain at only $1,000 USD. Let me say this…anyone betting on Cung Le to defeat Wanderlai Silva was a fool.  I had a deep sense going into that fight that Cung Le, with all of his magnificent striking ability, was going to have his hands full with the intensity of the Silva’s onslaught.  I was correct.  The Muay Thai Clinch that led to Silva’s knee repeatedly smashing Le’s nose was painful to witness even via DirectTV.  I remember a different Silva inflicting the same kind of punishment on Rich Franklin, whose nose ended up pretty much the same way.  

You know, actually, looking back at Rich Franklin’s nose now it doesn’t seem half as bad as it did back then and really nowhere as bad as Cung Le’s smashed piece of crap that used to be a nose looked after he got done getting raped by Wanderlai Silva last night.   Does it really matter though?  I mean really,  I would be literally killed were I to step into the ring with any of those guys so please Mr. Le and Mr. Franklin, believe me I’m only speaking relatively when I’m saying you guys got your asses beat.  You are both still bad ass mother fuckers for sure okay.


Today has been an exercise in patience along with the sheer overwhelming feeling that comes along with self imposed abject poverty due to morbid compulsive gambling, anger management issues, sleep deprivation, forced humility, squandered opportunities and deep regret regarding self control issues and poor decision making.  

 This picture has nothing to do with San Manuel.  But it should:  

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


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

People Who Died: Charles

Karma Police have pulled me over it seems.  I’m hoping I don’t get arrested by these guys because I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take to be honest.  The universe seems to be against me or maybe I am just against success.  Do I owe this life to mediocrity?  I stand in my own way.  I do.  I do.  I really fucking do.  There is a sick part of my heart that jumps all over any impulsive idea that springs into my mind and I’m seemingly too stubborn to stop it.  How many times have I relied on the goodness of strangers to get my ass out of a sling?  So many it boggles the mind.  Blessed and cursed was I…good looks and charm….I rely on both of them way too much.  This rut I’m in just keeps digging itself deeper and deeper.

When does the digging stop and the burying begin?

Scared to find that out to be honest.  The enormity of the task that lies in front of me should I desire to continue battling just seems overwhelming.  All systems are failing lets not mince words.  Is my core still intact or is it rotten and poisoned?  I can’t tell anymore.

Cerebral thinker, polluted well, the water smells off, have I been living in hell?

Surrounded by demons or are they just ghosts? Calling to me.  Beckoning me closer…Closer to what?

That’s the scary part.  Half of me already knows the answer to that and it spells only darkness and a reunion I’m not anxious to have.  I don’t want to be a name on the list of People Who Died, as much as I love them, I don’t want to see them anytime soon.

Yet…even now I hear faded whispers, see smiles in the dark, hear chuckles and scraping,  the moon is so full tonight, translucent light from an unnatural source the sickly green phosphorent beakers of decadence.

Calling to me from  the ancient past, promising details to questions and mysteries I didn’t ask and had no idea remained unsolved.

Regicide, the killing of a king, regicides, the killings of kings…

Who slipped him the poison with a smile on his face and teeth in his heart?  Who whispered my name to the wolves that run the action wherever I journey?

What kind of insect bit Charle’s killer, infected him with madness, forced him to pull the trigger?  You see that’s where it all started for me I believe.  The slow whirlpool spinning me around and around, unable to climb out unable to drown just spinning and spinning….faster and faster.  It all started with Charles McEldowney, Bo Kai Di, Chuck,

Vietnamese….American….Devil….Angel….dead.  For sure he is dead.

It’s been 5 years and 9 months since Chuck was shot by a young and angry Vietnamese kid.  5 y 9 m since the kid knocked on Charlie’s door.  It was in August of 2005. Charles lived real close to Dodger’s Stadium.  I wonder if the Dodgers were home that evening?  Or was the stadium as empty as the soul of the kid who put the gun up to Chuckie’s chest when he opened the door.  Pulled the trigger.  Walked away.  Somebody took Charles to the Emergency Room.  I don’t know what hospital he died at.  I don’t even know how to properly spell his American name or Vietnamese name.  I just know that my life hasn’t been the same since I got the call on the third floor of the Stellar Bar in Melboune, Australia from Heather Batchelder.

Charles drowned on his own blood.  That’s what I’ve been told.  I’m going to let you see this letter that I wrote to the world when I could find time to console myself back then.  From what I understand a printout of this letter was included with Charles when they put him in the oven that incinerated his flesh.  A copy of this letter is intermingled with his ashes and spread everywhere and nowhere.  Charles drowned in his own blood.

Who was there to see him off?  This was an unplanned journey to eternity.  When did his thoughts shift from whatever nonsensical things he was doing 5 minutes before the doorbell rang to “oh my god I am dead god please jesus please oh my god I  can’t breathe help me “.  His eyes must have been frantic.  Or maybe he was just that badass that he accepted it and floated away.

Come to think of it…a lot of things would be easier if I knew what happened to Charles.  I would like to see everything from 5 minutes to door bell ringing to where he is now.  If anywhere.  I’d like to know if he can still have thoughts in his mind.  Where did he end up?  Or is he just gone, not even rotting because of the cremation but just gone as if he never existed?

For at least 6 months after he died, somebody paid his mobile phone bill so his answering machine was still working.  I used to call that number from Australia all the time just to hear his voice.  It would rip me apart but I did it so many times.  I wonder who else used to call and leave messages for Charlie.   Did he ever get them?

I wrote this back in 05 when I was part owner of a bar in Melbourne, Australia.  Got some bad news from Heather Batchelder and Mike Barnes about my very good friend Charles.

—————– Original Message —————–
From: HOt sex and Greed
Date: Aug 11, 2005 1:14 PM

Aug 9, 2005 12:29 AM
Subject: The Legend of Bo Di Kai——–I am Fucking Shattered
Body: Honestly in all my life experiences I have never been as distraught, emotionally wrecked, torn to pieces, sad, angry, and overall just a mess as I was and AM STILL over the stupid senseless killing of my friend and companion and kindred brother Charles McEldowney on the Second of August, 2005 in LA.

Some fucking jackass who obviously can’t handle their drug intake of ice tripped the fuck out of his head and had some delusion of Charlie doing something threatening somehow someway and actually killed my friend Charles.

I have suffered through many fucked up things in my wonderful life to date. None has affected me quite as much as this. I live in Australia now and I can’t fucking even go home to the funeral. It’s so fucked.

If you never met Charles your life is not as fulfilled as it should be let me just tell you that. He was a great personality and the most funny, generous, twisted and delightfully evil man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I know that I will never meet another like him.

If you only knew how many nights in the last twelve years that Charles and I have seen the sunrise together, talking shit, philosophizing, tinkering, drawing, partying, driving, planning, laughing, eating and just being brothers it would boggle the mind.

Fuck yah we were on drugs. Hooray for that. After Charles moved from OC to LA, I got a job at Ticketmaster in LA and was working down on Wilshire Blvd right there in Chinatown. And he lived there off of 8th Street and Grammercy. Literally 5 minutes walk from my work. I used to go over there at lunch and Charles would rescue me from the hellish hangover I would be enduring, with some hits of that dirty pretty ice pipe and we would have the best times. I don’t give a fuck if you think its lame. Drugs or any of it to tell you the truth. It was real and it was never the same and the adventures in LA with Chuck were legendary.

When I moved to downtown LBC with my Australian chick Ella, me and her used to go to Charles mobile house about three nights a week and pick up shit like maybe a half gram or something. It would always be like at 4 in the morning seriously and I would be covered in paint from whatever masterpiece I was working at the time and it was just so NOT THE SAME as the millions and billions of sheep living in California.

Charles sold drugs. Yah for Charles. I trusted him more than I have ever trusted anyone in my life. Implicitly. You know what that word means? Implicitly. Well I don’t know the exact dictionary meaning either but it’s a word that comes to mind when I think of Charles and trust. Like as in, it goes without saying. The dude had my back, any time any place. When I had money I gave him money. When I had none, he took none. It would not be an exagerration to say that Charles has actually given me my stash for the night AND GAS MONEY TO get back home AND A LITTLE MINI STASH for my chick and some sort of tool or gadget, a porno, and some food at least 100 times when I was living in Long Beach.

I would always be broke, being a degenerate gambler, yes its true. But Charles never gave a fuck about that. Literally didn’t give a fuck. Always made the time for me. Always. I tell you what. Straight up. The man meant more to me than almost anyone in this world. I love Charles. I thought he was the coolest person ever and he is my hero. Seriously my life will never be the same and the prospect of visiting California again isn’t even half as appetizing now that he is dead. I am that crushed.

I just found this shit out yesterday and I can’t stop welling up with tears about every 5 minutes. Is there anyone in your life that every time you see this person you feel this swell of affection in your heart and a smile just comes to your lips? Like you guys are so genuinely stoked to be in each others company whenever you get the chance in your busy lives? And once you start talking, all the other people in the room can’t even follow what you guys are talking about because they are just not on that wavelength. That is what we had man. Not in a gay way either for fucks sake. But in a non gay way Charles was a soulmate of mine and I really miss him so terribly much as I am typing this right now on a cold and rainy Melbourne Tuesday, the ninth of August, 2005. I miss you Charlie and I am fucking not very happy about any of this let me tell you.

As always with me and Charles he is paving the way. Charles was the stuff that legends are made of. Let the storytelling start now. I would say Rest in Peace but Charles liked staying up. Not resting. I do too. So all I can say is I love you brother and I miss you and not a cliche here: I will think about you every day for the rest of my life and thank you so much for every little thing you have ever done for me. You fucking rule. Bye Chuck.

I Gave All My Money To A Nigerian Email Scam





Good Day,

I am DR.HASSAN DAVID, A Staff of BOA Bank in Burkina Faso West Africa. If it may interest you, I have a Business transaction, and I want you to please indicate your interest to receive the transfer of US$11.6 Million Dollars).

Compliments of the day with your entire family, It’s just my urgent need for foreign partner that made me to contact you for this transaction for assistance. I am a banker by profession in west Africa and currently holding the post of Director Auditing and Accounting unit of the bank.

I have the opportunity of transferring the left over funds ($11.6 million) of one of our bank clients who died in crash since seven years ago and none of his family member or relation has come for the claim, and now the bank is planning how to confiscate the fund since no one has come for the claim. Please I need your honest and humanity to execute this transaction under your kind control for the benefit of our both families.

Hence, I am inviting you for the deal I will offer you 40% of the amount mentioned above and if you are sure you are capable to handle this transaction and you are ready to assist me to execute this business, further details of the transfer will be forwarded to you as soon as i receive your return mail,have a great day..

PERCENTAGE RATIO: Note that 40% being ( $4,000,000.00 ) will be your share in respect of your assistance and account provide for the transfer, 50% ( $5,000,000.00 ) will be my share being the pioneer of the business while the rest 10% ( $1,000,000.00 ) will be used for expenses and to install a joint company in your country which will bear our names in particular and whatever profit made out from this company will be used in helping the less privileges, motherless babies home and charity organization in the world.

If you are willing to do the transaction with me, get back to me with the following below:

4. YOUR AGE……………………..

Contact me for more details if you are interested, so we can proceed. We have only a week to execute the transfer as soon as you reply and show your interest.  For more clarification reply me back and please note that the claims is 100% risk free..

Thanks for your co-operation,

00226 75 37 24 35.

This shirt is lying cuz Anthony Mandich ain't that stupid.

Greetings and mutterings to you Dr. Hassan David,

Compliments of the day to you fellow foreign partner from West Africa.  Be it known that beaming with pleasure describes my flatulence upon receiving your hearty letter with 100% risk free promise of losing the equivalent of one golden calf for the dire emergency that benefits the family of your martial relations of the canine variety.  Happenstance and circumstance have collided my nebulous, chubby and curiously handsome pal! Of course you are  stupider then the soil encrusted in your mother’s teeth.

Assistance of what you require is fortunately the most urgent scandal of the day, blessings to your bountiful God, the God of fecal holiness.  As we don’t matter of factly share the same divine spirit of extreme wind which bellows from the backside, it is contagious to think that we may perhaps be strange bovine bedfellows come what may, may i come upon your smiling Nigerian face with the horses penis which is shared between your dessicated ancestors and spread through the current population of the bank in which you claim to work with such fierce falsehoods that one can only conclude the i.q. level of such a pragmatic prognosticator such as your esteemed self, sweaty and cognizant of offal that you are, is incredibly low.  Perhaps we may meet to break bread and wind and continue the farcical fairytale only your finest idiot savant would ever take seriously in fact.

If you share in the extreme ridicule that is being sent your way via my scantily covered American posterior which will be delivered via first class sewage from my family to your den of jackals please accept this token of my undying gratitude for not being as idiotic as you.

I congratulate you with your  extremely dastardly yet incredibly asisine plot to defraud the sinister yet frugal bank in which you claim to have provenance.  Such is a baffling claim!  A shame!  One that we cannot name! As your countenance is too great a burden in its joyful rapture of incredibly donkeyesque serenity it fills me with the emotion of contempt to consider you still alive if you happen to be in such a state by Wednesday of next week.

As they say in the land beside the West Nile, “Anything that benefits a humble creature who chews the dung of the vultures who chew the dung of the jackal should always be eradicated so that pest has neither the means or the ways, to graduate to “pestilence.””

That being said it appears that either you have contracted testicular cancer  or else you have a pair of the biggest balls I’ve ever seen especially in conjunction with the earthworm otherwise known as your penis or in laymans terms the Dirctor of Auditing and Annointing of Male Scrotums for tongue dirty pleasure. Thank you so muchly efficiently the opposite of this in terms of gratitude for weak kneed child like incandescence.  It is my hope that this reply to your generous offer of nothing tangible cloaked with the stupidest letter ever written finds you happy as the worms which inhabit a donkeys anus and your mothers eyes when they learn that enough shit exists for them to eat another day in such a happily parasitic way.

May God Bless you with a broken neck and may the future of your beautiful family be erased from the tree of man as a pleasurable (for everyone but you of course) down payment on the immense karmic bill you accumulated in your slack jawed rat like existence!

I’m hoping we can continue this wise exchange of networking virus laden jibber jabber at a time and place that  I’m miraculously doing my best to never have to honor.  If this is of interest to you in your quest to be a bottom feeding catfish scum, I applaud you and wish only to expedite your journey to the inner reaches of the earth, my majestic fiend, to that fabled land of legend, I refer positively to the dung laden room reserved for you and your ball gazing family in a little plantation known as hell.

Thanks Again!

A friend and Companion (never for you)

Sorry I don’t own a pair of Roller Skates

two young kids Anthony and Natalie Mandich before we were actually Mandich's

I’ve got my ex-girlfriend over here right now babbling about roller skating upstairs on the hardwood floors.  I had to tell her sorry but I don’t own a pair of rollerskates.  I’d rather push around on a skateboard even if I do it badly.  Apparently, I’m a “son of a bitch” too, which would not make my dear, dear mother very happy to hear hahahaha.  At least that’s what I just overheard in a conversation the ex was having with her drunk momma .

Apparently I am now persona non grata in the South Coast Metro area.  I’m not really very shaken up about it though.  I have other, more urgent, fish to fry at the moment.  As to what I did to earn “son of a bitch” status I have no idea and I don’t really care to tell you the truth.  Drunk wind baggery if you ask me.  Never been a big fan of drunks, even when I was one for a few years back in the nineties.  Its kind of funny or rather kind of ironic that I’m so hated in that household because I have truly never been anything but nice to that woman and I even get along splendidly with her dog, a little yapping barking ingrate who I managed to somehow cultivate quite a bond with.  Dogs do like me.  Maybe because I am one?  Topic for another day.

I’ve got lots of shit going on in my life, most of it not exactly on the great side.  We are losing the house here in two days.  It is getting auctioned off on March 23rd, 2011 and that is when my bubble is really going to burst.  I’ve really gotten accustomed to having the run of this place, its been amazing and I will really be sad to give up my Cowshit Castle when that dreadful day finally comes.  The entire house is pretty much empty right now except for mattresses without sheets and the contents of my art studio/office where I am typing this fascinating shit right here and now.

I’ve got no idea where I’m going to go.  I’ve got no money to get there.  All I have is my talented hands, my paintings and art supplies and my sexy self and not so sexy car.  Plenty of people are sure to be thinking that if I end up homeless and in the gutter its only my deserved reward for being such a jackass.  To them I offer a hearty “Fuck Off….but I do it with a smile on my face because I’m not really serious.  Shit, they are probably right.  I don’t really give a shit about the rights or wrongs of the whole situation.  It is what it is and I’m a fighter who will never give up.

This is all just a wakeup call for me to start being a little smarter with my assets and less inclined to procrastinate and lollygag my way through life.  Time to pump a little Ouspensnky urgency into my everyday life and frankly I welcome the challenge.  Stay tuned for updates on the living situation.  Whether you, constant reader, are a friend or foe, a hater or a supporter, you’ll be anxious to hear the outcomes of this somewhat urgent situation.  LOL.


I’ve kinda gotta run right now for a couple of reasons.  My sister Theresa has commissioned me to do a painting of a baby giraffe for her daughters room in their new house in Norco.  I agreed to do it for the insane price of $100.  So I’ve gotta knock that out here tonight.  Not only that my friend Ian McCall is in New Jersey right now for an audition/tryout for Season 14  of The Ultimate Fighter and I want to call him up and find out how that is going.  Anyways thanks for reading and I welcome any comments or suggestions, constructive or venom laced it matters not.

Oh yeah one last thing.  We went to mediation in Los Angeles last Wednesday for the case involving the death of my sister Natalie while in custody of the Riverside Sheriff’s Department on Valentines Day in 2009.  I have nothing to report as far as results, conclusions, new information etc however.  This time it was much ado about nothing as all we did was stand outside the mediators palatial estate in Century City while he met with representatives of the County of Riverside and our attorney, the capable and effervescent Richard P. Herman.  Rather disappointing, especially for my poor mother, who seemed crestfallen at the lack of new information regarding the exact circumstances of my sisters passing.  Stay tuned for further updates on this sad tale as well.

the fucking title says it all foolio

All is not misery and strife however!  Be sure of that.  I skated a good 35 miles last week which felt great and that’s always a good thing right?  Talk to you people later.

P.S.  Apparently my real father, Maurice Lloyd is very sick right now and in hospital.  My thoughts and prayers are with him and his family in Vancouver.  Get well soon MO!


Anthony John Mandich

Look at me and my hot mess of a life

Its gotten to the point that I don’t feel like I can be truthful when telling stories about my day to day life right now.  The reason for that is obvious when you give it more then two seconds thought.  If you are sort of slow on the uptake let me explain it to you.  Actually, screw that.  Think about it.  Figure it out.

Wow great start to this post huh?  Its 7:39 p.m. on Saturday night.  I’ve been sitting at the computer since I woke up in stupor on the carpet in my room/studio a few hours ago.  My hair was all George Washingtoned out and I didn’t have a clue what I had been doing to find myself on the carpet like that.  It was a crazy fucking day yesterday.  Actually the past two days have been really nuts.  I would like to tell the whole tale because I know its pretty fascinating to me and should be of at least some interest to you people out there as well.

I’m thinking I might just have to change some things around in my life.  You might think this sounds really stupid but if I feel like I can’t tell the stories of my life truthfully, then my life must be fucked up.  To be more specific, if the things that I’m doing on a day to day basis are things that I have to hide, then either I need to change those things or get rid of the people that I am hiding those things from.  If getting rid of somebody is not an option, then that only leaves curtailing the things that I feel that I need to hide.

For the most part, getting rid of somebody is not an option for me.  We’re talking about family members or lifelong friends and shit  and I can’t just cut them out of my life.  I’m certainly not going to be killing anybody just so I can feel like its okay to tell the stories I want to tell without fear of backlash.  On a side note though, I have come to realize that there are certain sick and twisted fucks that do things exactly like this.  I was actually just looking back on to find out the name of that dude that was a 33 year old weed grower in Sacramento who killed his 23 year old wife for threatening to expose his grow room operation and then cut her up and put her in the ocean somewhere in San Francisco. I didn’t get too far on my search though because I got caught up reading about the Lupoe Family Massacre in Wilmington.

This fucking idiot Ervin Lupoe and his wife (allegedly) killer their two sets of twins (5 and 2 year olds) and 8 year old daughter, then Ervin killed his wife, then faxed a letter to some news station and then killed himself.  This all went down in Wilmington, California, near Long Beach I guess.  The decision to end 7 lives apparently was made because his wife and himself had recently been fired from Kaiser Permanente for some kind of misconduct or something.  I am glossing over the details of what the specific story is in regards to  Kaiser and them losing their jobs for a reason.

No matter what the true story is about their fucking jobs all I can say is that this dude is a fucking coward piece of shit.




Fuck me running

Anthony Mandich is the boy in the Bubble

Sometimes I start to think that I’m sick in the head and that my soul is in peril.  It would not be a huge leap for anyone that knows me to believe that my middle name was actually Trouble.  Trouble and me are pretty close friends but thankfully we haven’t gone too far down the road together.  I guess I like cruising around on the periphery of his world but I wouldn’t want to get caught behind the Trouble County Line after dark if you know what  I mean.

Hard for me to take any kind of credit for that though.  I’ve been blessed beyond belief with a mother who has always stood by me regardless of the circumstances.   My mom’s name is Heather and I am not worthy of the generosity she has bestowed upon me with not much in return thus far.  I could write a book.  A literal book filled with story upon story of Heather saving my ass time after time after time.

Have you ever had someone in your life who you cared about and tried to help?  Yes you have.  How about someone you have helped but they didn’t seem to care?  As in not much gratitude was shown.  I’m sure most people can answer yes to this as well.  The number of downward spiraling questions I would have to keep asking to get you to the point where I am with my mom would boggle the mind.  I mean my mom could have answered yes to the second question when I was 2 probably.

How about this?  Have you ever gotten mortally sick and fucking tired of helping someone that doesn’t get it?  Like they are fucking retarded or something.  And you get sick of helping them and putting yourself out for them.  They don’t appreciate it.  In fact they seem to resent you for it as shocking as that seems.  After a while you get sick of that shit right?  Eventually you come to a point where enough is enough and you have had it up to here with this ungrateful sob.  You have it out with him/her and announce that you are “done” and thats the end of it.  They pretty much cease to exist for you in any tangible way and you just move on because there are too many deserving people in this world to justify wasting any more time and energy on a selfish know it all idiot who doesn’t learn from his mistakes.

Well my mom has been “done” with me at least 1,256 times in my life.  I have been so stupid its almost a fucking joke to consider.  I have no idea why that woman has continued to love me and help me for as long as she has.  This is not to say that she doesn’t get super pissed off at me and stuff.  She does.  Super pissed.  The amazing thing about Heather, my mom, is that she really doesn’t hold a grudge against me.  After a bit, if I genuinely seem to change my attitude and start trying to do the right thing, its easy to get her back on my side and believing in my inherent “good sonlyness”.

I’m not explaining this in order to make light of the situation in any way.  I’m not trying to point out that my mom is a sucker that should have opened her eyes to reality years ago and written me off for good back then.  Many people would be agreeing with that sentence though.  I’m sure she hears it from all sorts of people.  In fact, I know that she does.   I can’t blame them and certainly I would never blame her if she did just walk away and wash her hands of it all.  There would be no guilt on her conscience because she has done 1,000 times more then she should have to make sure that I have chances to be a happy and productive kid in this big bad world.

I just know that if I didn’t have my mother around, I would be hard pressed to continue to believe that the world is essentially a good place.  My mom is that stable, firmly grounded and steadfast rock that has always kept my head above water and I am truly grateful for her continued support and love.

Everyone thinks that they are special.  I know it sounds incredibly stupid but “I KNOW that I’m special”.  God has a plan for me, a destiny that I need to survive long enough to fulfill.  Has anyone ever read “A Prayer for Owen Meany”?  If you have you know what I’m talking about already.   If you haven’t then sorry.  I don’t have time to explain it.

I want something good to die for to make it beautiful to live.

Some days like today for instance, I get the hairs on my arms standing up and this really super deja vu-ish feeling that flows through my head and keeps tantalizing me with the idea that I am an integral part of God’s master plan for my era.  Shit, that sounds so delusional.  Unrealistic delusion of grandeur.  Classic symptoms of any one of a dozen personality disorders.  Still, the feeling is unshakable.

And so I continue  to bob and weave the punches I throw at myself.  Finding my way to this destiny has been a journey that I wish upon nobody.

I have a hard time staying out of my own line of fire.  If there is a devil, and I’m pretty sure there is, so far he’s just laughing at the lack of a challenge that I present.  He doesn’t even have to throw any of his demons my way.  Why waste assets when I’m doing a fine job of fucking things up myself?  I guess my only real resolution for the year 2011 is to possibly find a way to let the natural blessings that are bestowed upon me bear the fruit they are intended to bear.  How dumb is that to consider?  Real dumb.  That’s all that God is asking of me at the moment.  Just to stay out of my own way for a little bit.

Its not to much to ask.  I may be finally ready to do this.  Let’s hope so.

By the way that picture of the adorable little tyke and the woman that you can see at the beginning of this post is me and my grandmother.

The sexy woman standing in back of those two crazy looking little kids standing in their butthuggers is my mother, Heather Bayne.

Corruption Rotting For Eternity by Anthony Mandich

Me and Sparklett’s Water Makin’ Friends

Anthony Mandich is the man who sketched this out

Hello and a very happy and joyful Tuesday in July to all of my friends in Cyberspace.  It’s Anthony Mandich here.  I’m going to make this very short and pretty fucking sweet.  I have alot of painting to do tonight plus I have to call the beautiful girl in Wellington, New Zealand, that responded to my ad on NZ Dating today.  LOL.  That’s a very inside joke, one that I cannot at this time share due to statute of limitationary gobbledygook.

I need to give big shout out to my dear Aunt, Auntie Michelle Manire.  She recently celebrated a birthday, and she looked bloody fabulous in the pics that followed her night of cocktails, sweater vests and long walks with Andy Fowle, her significant other.  So here’s to ya Auntie Michelle.  From your loyal and nearly God like nephew Anthony Mandich.  I hope you have a wonderful night tonight and every night for as long as nights exist.

What else?  I went to lunch today with an old old friend of mine by the name of Eric Kisner.  Kizzy.  Kizzy was and is a cool motherfucker.  When I was a punk rock severely delinquent sophomore at Corona Senior High School, Kizzy could always be found in flagrant violation of the High School Code of Ethics regarding the smoking of cigarettes in undesignated areas such as the lockers in between classes.  At the end of every class I would venture over to where he kept his locker and politely request a couple of hits off his Marlboro Red.  Although he was  a rocker dude and didn’t normally associate with human mohawked scum like me, Eric Kisner always showed mercy and kindness to his fellow human beings and gave me a couple hits.  I like that.

Today I went to visit Kizzy at his place of employment which happened to be right next to the Glen Eden “Sun Club”, which if you are from this area, you know is really a fucking horrible little spot where fat, old, haggard, yuck, gross, wrinkled, asexual, Cougars and Cougmen hang out in the buff, completely fucking disgustingly naked and proud of it.  Gross.  But anyways, yeah Eric was driving this big tractor thing and doing something to fix this trout pond his boss owns.  Apparently the water keeps disappearing from the man made pond/lake/puddle and it is causing the trout to die.  I was shown the rotting carcass of one of the trout and Holy Mary Mother of God, it was fucking big man.  I guess they stocked this little lake with 1800 pounds of trout.  I’m talking about an area no bigger then half of an Olympic Sized swimming pool.  Crazy shit.

So yeah we went to lunch and it was fun and we talked about old times and called Steve Jacobson, my son, and purposefully did not wish him a Happy Birthday, which I could totally tell he was waiting for but it was more fun not to.  Then we made plans to go play poker real soon and  I split.

Then I entered Sean Stenlake’s world for about two hours.  We played baseball (badly by me), I went for a run in the middle of this baseball shit because I was feeling so out of shape and horrible I figured a brisk run in the 108 degree heat was just what I needed to finish the job of my destruction.  Somehow I survived the winds of hell and made it back to play a little more baseball.  Then I showed Sean some of my art videos and then we had a very interesting conversation about his friend Adam who got busted six years ago for counterfeiting by the Secret Service and was given the option of Prison or the Navy for SIX years.  Just like the old days I thought.  Anyway he is going to be getting out of the Navy next month so good for him!

I think that’s gonna do it for today even though I have much more to tell you about including my very lengthy conversation with Sade from Houston who telecommutes from home in her capacity as a Technical Support Person for Sprint.  I talked to her for like 3 hours this morning and it was actually very cool.  Her husband is entering the NFL Draft next year and yeah she is a cool chick.

Okay kids.  bye bye

Going back To Work Again?

I just had an unreal convo with this girl Krista that is a recruiter for Sole Technology.  She was bad ass. I’m not going through an external recruiter for this position so I feel much better about my chances of landing the job because of that.  Its always way harder when the employer has to shell out 20k in one lump some payment to the recruiting agency just for the privilege of hiring you.  That is a shit load of cash and I’ve noticed that jobs I’ve obtained via external recruiters  always come with alot of scrutiny from everyone for some reason.  I don’t really like scrutiny lol.  Unless you are scrutinizing how good looking I am or scrutinizing a painting, I’m actually not in favor of excessive amounts of scrutiny.  Anyhow, so it seems I might have a face to face interview coming up which is pretty cool and positive news.  I just checked out the job requirements on (didn’t even know it was listed lol) and the job is definitely pretty intense.  Its a good thing I’ve had a good long break from the corporate world number one, that its a cool company with cool products in a cool industry number two,  and that I’m bad ass number three.

So yeah this is one of those inane posts that are posted for no good reason.  Talk about things that nobody cares.  Wearing all the things that nobody wears.  I’m a moving on up to the Eastside to that deluxe apartment in the skyyyyyyy moving on up.

I filmed this little video yesterday of me and my mom Heather Davies and my step dad  Chip Davies at Big Lots which used to be Pic n Save back in the day.  It wasn’t even really that funny of a video it was actually kinda dumb  I thought.  I posted it on Facebook just to fuck with my mom and surprisingly its gotten some really favorable reviews.   It just goes to show you.

I’m not really sure what it goes to show you but yeah.

My Uncle Gordon Bayne and I have been having heads up poker matches quite often lately.  And I have to be honest, I am kicking his fucking ass.

Sorry Uncle G but hey you know…I love you kid.

I downloaded some music last night.  Simplex…..the whole record I think.  Really cool older punk band from Costa Mesa area that I used to see all the time. I’m really close friends with their bassist Rich Zaydel aka Bald Rich aka Baldilox.  Anyways the guitarist Landon apparently has turned over a new gay leaf and he was talking lots of homoerotic dirty talk to both me and Rich on one of our little insult trade off posting pages on Facebook.  So that was interesting. Apparently he is in line to get his Baby Blue Belt after recently receiving his Pink Belt.   I’m not sure what the belts signify but apparently it has something to do with Gay Karate or Gay Kung-Fu.  Hey….God bless him….it was great to hear from him anyhow and it definitely brought up some good memories of the past so I went and searched out their band Simplex under “free mp3 download Simplex punk” and I found their whole record in .211111345643 seconds.  So that was cool.

This chick Briar I know from New Zealand told me she doesn’t like my blog because I diss people.  I don’t agree with that but everyone is entitled to their opinion.  I do want to share a freaky story about someone but I can’t do it because I know they stalk the fuck out of me on the internet and they will know so quick if I even indirectly mention them.  But yeah I do have a freaky story about a crazy thing to recount for you all someday not today.

My sister Theresa’s baby is so cute and little.  The kids name is Jaelynn which I think is a very cool name.  I don’t know about the middle name of “Lore” but hey whatever.  You’re talking to a guy whose kids middle name is Alabama, a state I have never been to and never will go to.    But I absolutely love her name Ciara Alabama Mandich and actually I absolutely love her.  She’s a treat and a half my kid is.  She’s truly bad ass.

Okay enough of this crap I gotta go.  I got shit to do motherphuggers.

I read this book

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

Don’t Read This Unless You Are Bored As Hell

ANTHONY MANDICH aka tonymandichsan on Full Tilt Poker


System: The Daily Dollar Rebuy ($1 NL Hold’em) will be starting in 8 minutes. $10,000 is guaranteed!


Nikolay TTTT: Fck

tonymandichsan: NikolayTTTT+Phaggot!=HOmo boy from russia

Nikolay TTTT: гандон по русски пиши

tonymandichsan: shut up russian phaggot

Nikolay TTTT: я тебя поимею!

tonymandichsan: i said shut up you dumb homo


tonymandichsan: nice POT homo boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nikolay TTTT: здарова! че то янки взбунтовались

tonymandichsan: that didn’t hurt me ya phucking bean curd

Nikolay TTTT: нинзя хуесос

tonymandichsan: Пидарас NikolayTTTT

tonymandichsan: Stupid Ниггер

tonymandichsan: Мудак

Nikolay TTTT: о русский выучил хуесос ебаный

tonymandichsan: whatever you Блядь

Nikolay TTTT: отсоси

tonymandichsan: you do love to suck the Член

Nikolay TTTT: пидарас потаму что тебя ебу?

tonymandichsan: and of course you constantly eat my жопа

tonymandichsan: Niikkalay you stupid pussy why don’t you just иди в жопу

Nikolay TTTT: в твою? я и так там!

Nikolay TTTT: учи русский хуесос

tonymandichsan: NIka just иди на хуй

tonymandichsan: your nothing but a сука

Nikolay TTTT: это твое

Nikolay TTTT: al in пидор

tonymandichsan: Do you know what a burn it is that I ‘am insulting the phuck out of your commie &&% in your own language? That has to hurt huh litlte puppy lenin lover?

tonymandichsan: don’t you know that i am a agentura innostrannyx specsluzhb

Nikolay TTTT: you next

tonymandichsan: its up to me to iz”yatie ostatkov vrazhdebnyx klassov

Nikolay TTTT: ну и отсоси тогда KGB рулит

tonymandichsan: i have heard that your father is a rastlennyj and a zagovorshchik

Nikolay TTTT: хуерщик

tonymandichsan: i will give you the smertnyj prigovor if you are not careful little vyrodok

tonymandichsan: because you are just really a vrag naroda

tonymandichsan: can you believe it ? i shat myself yet again.

tonymandichsan: a l’stec

Nikolay TTTT: эй лошера ты че раскуарекался

tonymandichsan: all you do is nizkopoklonstvo

tonymandichsan: just a silly xuligan

tonymandichsan: really nothing more then a bezdel’nik

Nikolay TTTT: al in&

tonymandichsan: you certainly don’t scare me vzbeshivshayas’ sobaka;

beshenaya sobaka

tonymandichsan: my poker skills are like a vzbeshënnaya volch’ya svora

Nikolay TTTT: yes russian mad dog

tonymandichsan: your grandfather was a bezrodnyj kosmopoli

tonymandichsan: your brother is a merzavec

tonymandichsan: nice call swishy

tonymandichsan: bye bye lisa BIOTCH

tonymandichsan: nice pot tilty swishy little baby biotch

tonymandichsan: yippee cayay puto

tonymandichsan: thats right bi tch

tonymandichsan: your not really laughing your choking back tears of homosexual rage

Swish777: i will get it back

tonymandichsan: sure you will sluttage

tonymandichsan: uh huh. sure you willl

Swish777: you just holding it for me

tonymandichsan: yeah you’ll get it back

tonymandichsan: uh huh

tonymandichsan: sure i am

tonymandichsan: more like i am kicking yoru !!%# in the dirt

tonymandichsan: LOL

tonymandichsan: who wants an extreme man loaf? any takers? going once going twice get your extreme man loaf right here sir. its good and good for you completely nutritious and just lovely as phuck

tonymandichsan: i wanna shove my love straight down your throats scum90

tonymandichsan: you should have al ook at the triple chambered calf kidney i have in my small intestines

tonymandichsan: hydrojuicer why not hydrojuice my balls

Waspaloy1: again

System: The $4,000 Guarantee ($24+$2 PL Hold’em) will be starting in 6 minutes.

tonymandichsan: eat my butt hydrojuicer butt cheese loving aphrodisiac

tonymandichsan: eat my bals eat my shorts eat my butt hydrojuicer ya ba%#&& @$@& boy

tonymandichsan: now hydro boy lick me suck me eat my butty

curry2121 (Observer): jurgy u suck

System: A $50+$5 satellite to the $750,000 Guarantee will be starting in 7 minutes. At least 10 seats will be awarded!

System: A $2+$0.20 Satellite to MSOP #24 will be starting in 2 minutes. At least 5 seats will be awarded!

curry2121 (Observer): jurgy?

tonymandichsan: jurgy died

tonymandichsan: jurgy’s in doggy heaven now sorry buddy….he’s ruff ruff ruffing away in the sky

System: A $50+$5 satellite to the $750,000 Guarantee will be starting in 2 minutes. At least 10 seats will be awarded!

tonymandichsan: jurgy ….. come here puppy ….thass a good puppy dog lips

System: The $26 Ticket Frenzy ($6+$0.50 NL Hold’em) will be starting in 6 minutes.

tonymandichsan: adios shaka kahn lips

System: A $0.90+$0.05 $3 Main Event Satellite will be starting in 7 minutes. At least 20 seats will be awarded!

tonymandichsan: SEND IT

System: The $30,000 Guarantee ($100+$9 NL Hold’em) will be starting in 8 minutes.

tonymandichsan: in your mother phuggin face bioooooooottttttttttch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

System: The $15,000 KO Guarantee ($24+$2 NL Hold’em) will be starting in 4 minutes.

tonymandichsan: damn agsone up you just straight OWNED

tonymandichsan: owned like the dog you are osn

tonymandichsan: son

tonymandichsan: just owned

tonymandichsan: eaten alive for breakfast lunch and dinny din din

tonymandichsan: yowza

tonymandichsan: yikes


System: The $30,000 Guarantee ($100+$9 NL Hold’em) will be starting in 3 minutes.

tonymandichsan: so gagsoneup how does it feel to be completely and utterly and ultra convincinly OWNED?

tonymandichsan: did i mention that I OWN YOU AGSONEUP?

tonymandichsan: THAT I’M ABOUT TO felt you?

tonymandichsan: FELTED

tonymandichsan: DESTROYED


tonymandichsan: ITS PUPPY LOVE BETWEEN YOUR BIG PINK TONGUE AND MY ballllllllzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

tonymandichsan: OH YEAH….YOUR OWNEC

tonymandichsan: OWNED

tonymandichsan: OWNEDD

tonymandichsan: ONWEDN

tonymandichsan: OWNED

tonymandichsan: AGSY?

tonymandichsan: ARE YOU OWNED YET?

tonymandichsan: DO I OWN YOU

tonymandichsan: RUFF RUFF

tonymandichsan: RUFF RUFF

tonymandichsan: RUFF RURFF


tonymandichsan: HOW BOUT AN “OWN” ?

tonymandichsan: NOT A BONE BUT AN OWN!!!!!!!!

tonymandichsan: LOLLLLLLY LOLLLY

tonymandichsan: owned

tonymandichsan: come here dog’

tonymandichsan: doggy

tonymandichsan: ruff ruff

tonymandichsan: bow wow

tonymandichsan: come here little owned little whipped doggy

tonymandichsan: come here gilr

tonymandichsan: but yeah you’ll get it back

tonymandichsan: it smells like goat semen in this poker room for some reason

tonymandichsan: zen master pete would your monkey &&% care to lick my balls . ? you can pretend its just a big banana down there

tonymandichsan: slawa my balls russia you are a ball licking wunderkind.

tonymandichsan: pusssys

tonymandichsan: kingtrxtrme lick my balls jackass

tonymandichsan: i had total air nothing not a thing

tonymandichsan: thanks milfy

System: A $0.25+$0.05 $1 Main Event Satellite will be starting in 2 minutes. At least 20 seats will be awarded!

tonymandichsan: next time i’ll take it all so watch out bitotchhhhh’

tonymandichsan: lol lawdy dawdy we likes to pawty we don’t cawze trouble we don’t bother nobody we’re just the man thats on the mike and when we rock upon the mike we rock the mike ritght

ohhhhh owwwwy someone name tsnljnnknlnloloo just got owned. ….owned like the biotch that he /she is

ANTHONY MANDICH aka tonymandichsan on Full Tilt Poker

Gratuitous (spelling?) pic of some chick I had a little cuddle with in Feb

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,, 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.