Just got stabbed in neck by Barbie


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

Blocking you Now


·         RE: blocking you now‏

 

8:23 PM

Reply  ▼

To UnNamed Ex Girlfriend

 

Dear UnNamed Ex Girlfriend,

All I can say to that email is WOW!  That is just so WOW!  I don’t know what else to say then WOW!  Sorry, I know it seems a little trite but this one truly left me speechless, a difficult achievement where I’m concerned as you know.  Its gripping in its sheer dramatic soap operaishness.  I’m very happy that you are going to finally get a chance to give the man that you have been in love with all of these years 100% of your soul.  That’s great news!

Its also just utterly intriguing to witness the lengths you go through to block “ME” from getting in touch with you, only to voluntarily retract whatever mechanism you use, usually within 48 hours.  Often I don’t even realize that you have done any of these actions since I mostly wait for you to contact me these days.

The finality in which you vehemently exclaim that you’ll never hear from me in person as long as you live is quite amusing as well I have to admit, UnNamed Ex Girlfriend.  Not only do you try to make me out to be a “stalker” which is the polar opposite of reality, its also the 400th time (at least) you’ve made the same declaration.  I wish you luck, as usual, in this and all endeavors you choose to tackle in the future.

I remain your humble servant,

Anthony J. Mandich, Miscreant


Date: Wed, 10 Aug 2011 20:58:43 -0700
Subject: blocking you now
From: UnNamed Ex Girlfriend@gmail.com
To: krashthrills@hotmail.com

thank you for giving me the courage to be honest to Jon. I told him Ive been in love with him for 15 yrs. He’s been waiting to hear that all this time. I’m going to give him 100% of my soul, not holding back now since you are dead to me. I’m going to be married and if I get pregnant I’ll have his baby no matter what. This is the day I become a  woman who belongs to someone for the rest of my life. I’ll be his wife and the mother of his children. Watch and see. I can guarantee this.

 

I’m blocking you from replying to this. I tore my phone out of the wall for the house. you are blocked from every phone, email, etc. I’ll never  hear from you as long as I live. If I ever see you in person, I’ll turn and walk in the opposite direction

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

Whispers

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.

People Who Died


I just got done watching Basketball Diaries for the first time.  I have Netflix now so it was as simple as rating a few movies that I’ve already seen, pushing enter and voila! Basketball Diaries was the top rated selection for me to watch.  My friend Sean Stenlake of all people is the one who told me about the movie and the song “People Who Died”.  That song is a trip.  One of those songs that a person who has faced the loss of loved ones in bunches can definitely relate to.

I think about death quite a bit for some reason.  I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with it exactly.  Its kind of an unfathomable idea for me though.  Death.  It seems so final.  Self absorbed as I am, its hard for me to imagine how the world would continue to function without me.  Realistically, everybody would talk about my death for about five minutes and then it would be back to their lives.  I suppose that is the way it should be.  Who wants to dwell on some dead guy?

I’ve known quite a fair number of people who are no longer alive.  Maybe in the afterlife or wherever they are, if you remember them it gives them some kind of energy or something and makes them more “alive” for lack of a better word.  I think maybe I should take the time, now, to remember the people that I’ve known that are no longer on this planet.  I’m doing this in the hope that they get some sort of psychic charge out of this and it helps comfort them wherever they may be now and also helps them live on somehow, in some form.  Who knows.  Maybe their is a crazy world out there where the dead people live and they are in some kind of a war or something and they need that energy to carry on their fight.  Woudn’t that be something?  And if you could see that world right now would you see people who lived a thousand years ago who no longer even get the indirect flicker of psychic energy from here on earth so they are stuck forever? Stuck like an automobile that runs out of gas.  For a while that car sits and all it needs is a small amount of fuel and a turn of the key and its off and running again.  But if it sits for too long its going to take more then gasoline to get it going again.  If it sits for too long its going to need a new battery.  If years go by even a new battery isn’t going to do the trick.  The decomposable parts like rubber hosing and belts and stuff rot away, the oil turns into sludge, the rain rusts the metal, thieves vandalize its body and steal the valuable parts.  Eventually the pile of junk metal may not even be recognizable as a car.  Is this what happens to the dead who died so long ago that nobody remembers them?  I truly hope not.

That sounds pretty depressing doesn’t it?  If I’m not mistaken though, its the natural order of things.  I think it might be important to take the time to remember the human beings that existed before us.  Really take the time and think about them and think good thoughts for them.  Wish them well in whatever battles they are fighting.  Give them comfort and peace through the power of your prayers and beseech the God that controls the whole universe to show them a little love and to perhaps have mercy on you when your number is called.

Stay tuned for my roll call.  I’ll do it in my next post.

Be thankful for every hour that blood courses through your veins and for every breath you draw and every beat of your heart my friends.  Life is short.

Spring is in the air and Anthony Mandich is going to enjoy this summer!

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.

The Pursuit of Happiness


I pretty much love this girl a lot

I looked into her eyes last night and realized how incredibly lucky I am to have found a girl who gets me.  Better late then never.  We have our moments of confusion but when we are curled up like two puppies in the bed there is no doubt about anything.  Searching aimlessly for my whole life and coming up short, that’s what  seemed to be my destiny.  I can no longer say that.  Truly, I believe the ball is in my court.  If I want happiness, a girl who will stand by my side, a girl who loves me….well she’s here.  She’s here now.  It’s up to me to blow it.  Or not.  I’m thinking for once in my fleabitten life I’m going to choose not.  God, you got my back on this one.  I’ll take this one thanks.  She is music to my ears.

April Shand…I’m pretty happy that you sleep with me every night.