Final Fantasy XV: A New Empire

I have never been a gamer.  I don’t even really know what a gamer is.  At least I didn’t think I did.  As a youth growing up in the late 70’s and early 80’s I will admit I loved video games.  I was pretty good at them but certainly not a standout on any one game.  Donkey Kong, Pac Man, Tempest, Tron and Defender are games that I remember getting into.  I liked them all but never really LOVED any of them.  Not to the point of obsession common back then and certainly not to the point of quasi religious adoration prevalent among the psychotic kids growing up today.

The advent of the internet has changed everything in a big way for everybody alive basically.  Everything seems to be that much larger than life compared to the good old days which wasn’t that long ago and weren’t that good.  People seem to get really stuck on strange fucking things these days.  Its totally easy to see why.  The long and short of it is what I think of as content.  For me that means that there is so much different shit to do in this world that is available to every Tom Dick and Harry that it truly boggles the mind.  When I was a 16 year old wanna be punk rocker, bitch magnet, druggie we just didn’t have the plethora of choices on how to spend our time that the lucky little pricks growing up today have.

Its actually fucking insane if you want to be truthful.  gEEZ.  I can see that  I could rant about the bloody past versus the entitled present to the verbal vomit stage … for sure.

I can exercise enough self control (hopefully)  to be able to get to the intended before the second edit of this write up is complete.  But before I do  (here’s a word from our sponsor…lol jk).  Really, before I do, I have to at least expound  on this shit a little bit more.

I was saying that people get stuck on all kinds of bizarre stuff in this day and age.  To the casual observer of pretty much any topic, activity, lifestyle, habit, hobbie, compulsion, obsession, whatever the case may be, at first glance, everything seems pretty much like everything else.

How often have you heard about the next big this or that and basically said “fuck that”, wrote it off dismissively and wondered how stupid the people clattering on about whatever the fuck the topic is are?

Dude seriously.  Go back to the sentence above you and read it again.  Maybe even read it out loud.  Slow it down and try to follow my line of reasoning.  Pay particular attention to the fact that I just typed 37 words into a sentence about literally nothing or everything and that….it made perfect fucking sense.  If this is you you should immediately just punch yourself in the fucking face.  No…don’t do that.  But you should be at least a little bit scared for your life and your future.  Once I start making sense to you its like you just walked past that point wherever that point is in life where there is that little sign that says that all hope is lost for those who walk past this point.

As an aside, briefly, lol, I believe that the saying I am attempting pathetically to refer to in the above paragraph is “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here”.  It was written in the 14th century by Dante Alighieri and the analysis that I just read in reference to these seven words is actually fascinating and very very relevant to my life.  I strongly encourage you to click on that link and read for maybe 2 to 3 minutes.  I’m not compelling you to do so, however you might be surprised how closely the topic relates to your journey nearly 800 years after it was first written.  

Okay bringing everything back home, the challenge of any author worth a fuck… my point so far is that we as people are quick to dismiss most new things that we come across.  We do so for a variety of different reasons but I think, that for me, its usually because I am already overwhelmed by the wonderful plethora of fascinating content already available to me, that I haven’t  even scratched the surface of to begin with.  So, I tell myself that I don’t need something else to get stuck trying to learn about.  To be really honest, that train of thought is probably the correct train to come aboard.  Limitless imaginations, finite constraints.  We can only do so much as mortal human beings.  We are limited by mortality, lack of free time and many other things.

Listen pal, you are never going to have enough time to finish anything in your life to your complete satisfaction (with many notable exceptions which we don’t want to get stuck itemizing right now).

Cliche time.

Life is a journey.  Nobody can argue that shit.  Everything is in process of being completed.  Nothing ever seems to really get there.  Except for lots of unwanted things lol.  Like the end of your job because you got fired.  How about the end of your life because you got killed?  Not really a welcome event for most of us.

Many things seem to be never ending.  Relationships you have with the other human beings you meet along the way often never really completely end.  Instead they just change over time.   Closure seems to be pretty difficult for most people to attain.

True understanding is something that humans don’t get.  Yet.  Maybe.  I am  hoping that the many mysteries inherent in every single thought that humans think are going to get explained to us someday, preferably in a cool little spot called the after life.  Heaven?  Such a lovely and amazing concept.

Maybe.  Maybe not.  I can’t get that deep today.  I do have some hope for it though.  Which means I have some hope for our lives meaning more than they seem to mean right now which is not all that much that really fucking matters to anyone, yourself included.

Fervent hope bordering on insane belief.

Don’t dismiss anything.  Ever.   Don’t scoff.  Or hate on stuff.

You don’t have to write a term paper on every single topic that presents itself to you during the course of your life.  But don’t just outright dismiss anything either.  That’s the conclusion I want you to reach from what I have written today.

I wonder if I came anywhere close.

Fuck it.


unfortunately we did NOT get to talk about Final Fantasy XV, A New Empire today.  Its coming though.  Very soon.  But I gotta go right now. But I am coming back in a little while to continue this cuz I gotta tell you some stories.

Oh yeah.  And also too.  Anthony Mandich.  Can you say Anthony Mandich?


Asian Pranks


Time Flies

Life as I know it is going to be over before I know it.  I am not ready for life to be over.

I haven’t really even gotten started yet.

My list of To-Do’s is only growing.  It never shrinks.  I don’t even work and yet I still can’t keep up with the seemingly endless number of people I need to speak to, issues I need to resolve, property I need to dispose of etc.

All of which is important only in my own mind.

The world and her people do not give a fuck about my life, my issues and what I want to make sure and accomplish by the time I die.  No single person is big enough to have a material impact upon the world so who am I kidding by pretending to myself that my legacy is important to anyone but myself?

This lady I know named Stephanie Kelly has told me several times that its not about me and that I should stop worrying so much about having myself inserted into the center of everything.  She is right of course.  I’m just not a significant enough individual to where I can have any kind of claim to making a contribution to mankind or the planet or anything of meaning.

I certainly haven’t broken any new ground in any of my endeavors to date.  That’s not to say that I don’t have a chance to do accomplish things that will make my life count even after I die.  It is  just unlikely that I will be able to do so.

Self delusion has been key in making me believe that the best days of my life are still ahead of me.  Sadly, they are not.  That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the time I have left.  It does mean though that its time to take a realistic look at my life and narrow down the massive number of relevant topics in my life.

In other words, come up with a simpler vision of what I want to get done, with a realistic plan on how to accomplish it.  Then start ticking things off of a list.  I am going to give this whole idea the rest of this month of April 2018 to percolate in my brain and starting May 1st, 2018 I will begin putting thoughts to paper.

Hopefully there can be some good things happening as a result of this process.


Thanks for reading.


Comment Section of My Internet Life II

on Houston Elementary School Principal Arrested On Drug Charges 03/23/12 07:06 PM

Well here is another genius who seems to be a few grams short of a pound. Interesting to note that she is an educator in Texas. I would have thought she would have been a better fit at someplace like Roosevelt Academy in the Polk County School District. I’ll give you one guess what state Roosevelt Academy is located in.

on Man Calls 911 Because Wife Wouldn’t Let Him Browse Facebook Alone 03/23/12 06:59
Domestic turkeys have been known to drown in a heavy rain shower because they didn’t realize that it would be dry and safe inside their hutches! Others are so brainless that they can’t even remember how to eat, and must be fed by the farmer.
Seriously this guy Hardwick’s driveway doesn’t quite reach the road. I’m stupefied and actually less intelligent now then I was before I read this article.

on Man Calls 911 Because Wife Wouldn’t Let Him Browse Facebook Alone 03/23/12 06:51
I am just curious. Is this “person” a real human being? I only ask that because in his booking photo he looks somewhat like a marionette puppet. Combine that with the fact that he has to be literally the stupidest fucking moron jackass clueless breadcrumb brained idiot savant I have ever even heard of, then throw in the buzzword “Florida” into it, and all of a sudden I’m thinking some kind of low level alien being or perhaps he is actually a domestic turkey in disguise as a human?

on Mother Accused Of Choking Infant Six Times While In Hospital 03/23/12 11:17 AM

I remember a similar case where some black chick from Texas name Shaniqua Scott or something like that did the same fucking thing and she got 25 Years! I hope for the same here. If not more for being so stupid.

on Naked Home Invader Shot By Police 03/23/12 09:03 AM

This is my pistol
this is my gun
this is for fightin
this is for fun.
I think he might have forgot which one was for fun

on Has Hailey Dunn Been Found? 03/23/12 05:43 AM
When I first saw the title for some reason in my delirious state of mind I was thinking that maybe she had been found alive and that the reason for the question was that maybe she was in a cult or something and refused to give her real name. As far fetched as that may sound it sure sounds a hell of a lot better then what appears to be the reality. Sorry for Hailey having to miss out on 70 plus years of life just so someone could have a few minutes of sick sexual gratification. If the goofy looking step dad did it well at least they live in texas a state that is pretty good at erasing killers from the planet earth.

on Police Say 8-Year-Old Consented To Sex On School Bus 03/23/12 05:34 AM
kids will be kids lol..hahahaa just kidding. castrate the little 13 year old romeo? shit whatever maybe the cops are right just let this one die. they are both under 14 so really neither can consent to shit but its pretty hard to say the 13 year old is a rapist if the 8 year old said hell yeah lets do it (presumably in american sign language) and did you see those kids? the eight year old is taller then the 13 year old and outweighs him by at least 15 pounds. i’m sure she could take him an mma fight.


on Christopher Collings Convicted of First-Degree Murder of Rowan Ford 03/23/12 04:06
I love to data mine. That’s what I call it when a topic interests me and I spend several hours tracking down every fucking name involved in the story and putting them through every internet search available to mankind. It becomes an obsession and sometimes its probably not the healthiest of obsessions because as much as I like to joke around about the majority of the shit I read on this and every other website, there are certain stories that when I read them, I have to read them over and over just to make sure I have the ludicrous and seemingly ridiculously impossible set of facts down because I just can’t really actually fathom that people supposedly created in God’s image can behave so unspeakably disgusting. These are the stories that anger me greatly. Oh I ballyhoo on and on about “off with his head” and “let me guess….florida” and that sort of shit but for the most part those stories only reach me in a place that’s not too terribly deep not because I don’t care but more for the fact that my soul and heart and mind can only feel so much empathetic pain, disgust in the human race and so on. if you let every story touch your inner heart then sadly you are going to end up either an emotional and paranoid and distrustful basket case or an unfeeling emotionless apathetic robot. Every man has his limits. And supposedly, allegedly, God only lets a person suffer what He knows a person can take. I want to deny the essential truth in that statement. I want to scream that its a lie but I can’t because in my personal life which is the only life I have, although i’ve been to some extreme places in my head due to circumstances at a given time, so far the statement has held true. I’ve been able to somehow handle and get past everything life has had to offer good and bad thus far. I’m grateful for that and selfishly I don’t want to test it by getting myself personally emotionally involved in every single tragedy that I read about on the internet. There are just too many stories. Do you feel me? Too fucking many. I don’t try to pick which ones I’m going to get in an uproar about either. I just read the initial report, do my research and take it from there. The ones that get me, the ones that i feel have the power to destroy me if i let them are few and far between for the most part. They are the ones that almost immediately get my anger slowly building up, usually because a trusted member of a vulnerable and pretty helpless victim does something horrible that I know caused not only terror and fear and pain for a victim but also bewilderment, confusion and disbelief. Always followed by incomprehensible demoralization and ultimately death. Either a trusted member of a family or a complete and utter stranger. I get really really mad and really really sad. And I just want nothing but horrible things for the perpetrators of these acts. Before i started staying abreast of these sorts of events i could pretty honestly say that i didn’t hate anybody. No matter who had wronged me I didn’t hate them. I have wronged more people then have wronged me and I don’t feel any specific hatred from anybody so why do I have the right to hate anybody. i don’t. so i didn’t. I know this is a long comment and I’m sorry but I just wanted to say that as a result of my interest in the people of this planet who fall victim to pieces of shit and my empathy for them and furious anger at the ones responsible for their always incredibly sad plight, I can now freely admit that I have added “hate” as one of the everyday emotions that I experience. And it really bums me out. As stupid as this may sound, especially if you personally knew me, I feel like a big portion of my innocence that was somehow still intact after all these years of pretty crazy living has been stolen from me by the monsters that I hate. I just want to list the ones that come to mind when I think about hate and i pray for bad bad things to happen to these people. You may not know them all but who cares I want to say them. Its all from memory so sorry about any errors. John Gardner killer of Amber Dubois and Chelsea King. Joseph Smith who killed Carlie Brucia on Super Bowl Sunday. Christoper Collins and his Tubbyass partner David Spears who just fucking defy description with the unspeakables they did against Rowan Ford. Gertrude, Paula, John
Baniszewski, Richard Hobbs and Coy Hubbard who killed that poor, poor, poor girl Sylvia Likens. (really hate them so bad), Skylar Deleon and John Kennedy who killed the Hawkes couple in the Newport Beach yacht case (case absolutely fucking horrifies me the way these two were killed) Harold Braddy the bastard who threw that girl Quatisha Maydock into a swamp nicknamed Alligator Alley for obvious reason. Fucking BASTARD. Raul and Cathy Sarinana from Corona who killed, tortured and so much more. the victim? their nephew Ricky Morales who was 11 fucking years old. Sharon Hinojosa the traitor cunt who betrayed her kids and let them burn to save a shitty relationship with some fucking asshole. Russell Williams the Canadian Air Force colonel dude who killed Marie Comeau and some other chick. Scary fucking twisted non feeling bastard. Stacey Joy Bordeaux who killed one son and caused the other to be basically a brain dead vegetable. Omaina Nelson who killed and dismembered her older husband who loved her and trusted her and got killed for financial reasons just a fucking cunt. Tyler Hadley the little fucking bastard from Florida who killed his parents with a hammer. Fucking asshole. James Troutman a 24 year old sicko fuck who killed this girl named Skylar Kauffman, a cute little girl with the nicest smile you will ever see but who got killed at age nine in a horrific murder/rape/beating. Michael King who randomly kidnapped this lovely young wife named Denise Lee, raped and shot her. For no good reason. To be honest I could go on and on and on and it sucks to have such hatred in my heart for my fellow human beings. But I do. I got a sick and twisted glee out of the fact that Christoper Collins that six foot six tall piece of dufus shit fuck got found guilty of capital murder and i can’t wait until he fries or gets injected or hung or shot or whatever happens to him. I just want him to feel fear and pain and humiliation and confusion. I want him to meet the devil with a mind filled with cobwebs and cottage cheese, whimpering like a broken man. I hate him. Sorry to say it but I do.

on Husband Accused Of Knocking Out Wife With A Pineapple 03/22/12 11:17 AM

Exactly how the fuck do you knock someone unconscious with a pineapple? I can’t imagine that one smack upside the head would do it, would it? Seems like he would have had to beat her upside the head with the thing for quite a while.


on Woman Stabbed Man Because She Was Sick Of Cooking For Him 03/22/12 11:07 AM
Do I even have to ask if this manly man beast of an ugly ass peroxide headed no make up wearing she male is from Florida? No I didn’t think so.
Her picture is making me vomit in my mouth….
Just a little….

on Woman Gets Prison Time For Killing Son With Meth-Laced Breast Milk 03/22/12 11:05
I speak from experience when I say unequivocally that meth users do not partake only
“a couple of times a week” . Its a daily drug and she is full of shit. If she really could stick to that schedule then why would she do it at all, knowing that she is fucking lactating and feeding her baby tainted breast milk? I’m all for the use of drugs if you can use responsibly. That being said, this bitch is giving tweekers a bad name hahahahahaha.
Oh yeah….off with her head.

on Two Men Arrested Aboard Gay Cruise for ‘Buggery’ 03/22/12 10:59 AM
The gaiety of this is just too much for me to take. I believe that all pickle sniffin’ should go on behind closed doors. I don’t have anything against turd burglars in general but I just don’t want to be a witness to any pillow biting while out for a friendly snorkle on some crazy island somewhere. All man lovers please don’t hate me for being beautiful……



Dead Man’s Feet (formerly: Feet Like A Dead Vietcong Soldier)

feetNote to self:  refrain from scrubbing tubs, tables, walls, floors, sinks and buckets over the course of two to three days of delirious stopping and starting under the red hot sun while wearing cotton socks and Nike Running Shoes unless you want to be forcibly and very involuntarily awakened from said delirium purely due to the shock both visual and olfactory of your feet when you finally do have to remove the socks and shoes in order to make it to a prearranged appointment.

I’m sitting in the bathroom on my laptop typing this and I’m still trying to come to grips with how closely the smell inside this small enclosed bathroom matches  the terrifying stench that burned my nasal passages that Thursday morning in September, 2002 at my penthouse in Downtown Long Beach. I allowed a homeless African American drug addict named Kevin to get cleaned up in my bathroom.  I really have no idea what he got up to in my bathroom but I do know the pad smelled like death for days after.

And now I’m starting to panic, hoping that nobody else gets a whiff of the sour, C02 poisoned air  and realizes that I, Anthony X Mandich, am responsible for their discomfort and possible death.  It just would go down like a shit shake and definitely serve to hasten my already imminent “invitation to get the fuck out.”

My feet smelled like rained on rotten trash when I peeled off my shoes and socks a few hours ago.  I washed my feet diligently however the shoes themselves  are still sitting on the tiled floor not three feet from where I hurriedly banging away at this story.

I’m afraid that it will be impossible to wear those shoes again without subjecting myself to an indescribably heinous experience forged in Hell by Satan’s demons especially for my enjoyment.

Fucking gross.

No matter how engrossed  in my work I am, in the future, once the feet get wet and I am wearing socks and Nikes, they need to be taken off and disinfected immediately.  The alternative is bad enough that if John Monceaux, my cousin and the man who owns this house that I call home, happens to walk anywhere near this bathroom before I remove the offending shoes from  the house, I will be homeless once again.

With that being said, I am going to sign off of this post and hopefully rectify the situation voluntarily.  Thanks for reading and stay tuned for stank updates.


The DAze and KNights by Anthony MaNDiCH



Some fucking scum rapes your sister and laughs about it, okay, and the police do nothing about it.  Meanwhile, your sister can’t live with the shame of having been raped by this piece of shit so she blows off her own  head.  She leaves behind a few kids and adults with terrible memories but her suicide invalidates her life insurance so she leaves behind a confusing legacy but no cash.  Mr. Fucking Scum still walks the streets and his cockiness and the apparent joy he feels from causing pain is starting to really piss you off.  A couple of months goes by and you are moving on with your life.  It is a Saturday night, end of winter so still very cold but somehow you have a female that seems to want to hang out so you two hit downtown for dinner then begin a half hearted attempt to drink each other into oblivian.  A pub crawl is hastily thrown together.  Everything seems to be moving too fast as usual.

The combination of 4 Jaeger bombs, two shots of Patron and a huge Long Island Iced Tea mixed by a very heavy handed bartender at Stellar Bar sees you teetering on the edge of being fucking wasted as shit.  However there are 5 more hours until 2:00 a.m. and you have zero chance of continuing to drink at this breakneck speed and not blacking out and experiencing  your own personal Hangover, so…..   That conclusion leads to  two very furtive “hot rails” in the bathroom of The Odd Duck.

As you snort the crudely crushed pile of meth through the bowl end of the oil burner you picked up from Cheap Cigs! for $3, and that burning sensation from the vaporized crystal hits you as you blow out a giant white cloud of vapor smoke stuff the drunk and out of control version of yourself is giving way to a quieter, more systematic and serious minded you.  Time seems to slow way down and now you have almost an unfair advantage it seems.

Your mind is spitting out a random series of problems and solutions quickly.  Every situation is analyzed in nano seconds giving you plenty of time to react accordingly and you do.  The change is noticeable to your date.  So is the felony ring under your left nostril.  You excuse yourself to run back into the bathroom and quickly freshen up.  Six feet from the door you just happen to look to your left out a window which affords a view of the sprawling wasteland which used to be your mind when something out of the corner of your minds eye screams for help and you suddenly have this crystal clear premonition that Mr. Fucking Scum is out there and some girl is about to die.

Without going into a massive amount of detail…the efforts of Mr. Fucking Scum to rape and pillage on this night are thwarted.  You enlist the help of a couple of very tough looking Mongols sitting at the end of the bar and head out to save the damsel in distress who turned out to be a very scared very young and very pretty junior college student from nearby ___________-_________.  Mr. Fucking Scum is beaten  nearly to death at the hands of the bikers. He is moaning like a dead man in a growing puddle of his own blood as the crowd begins to disperse.  Everybody hopes he dies in fact nobody has even called the _________ Police Department yet.  Its going to be several hours before a drunk looking pair of EMT’s finally arrive on the scene to provide the villian with cursory emergency care.  He is more conscious of his surroundings as he is being loaded and I can’t escape the gaze of his bruised cornea.  Confusion over his night being turned around so abruptly by the appearance of bikers with 2x4s  and brass knuckles gives way to a sudden realization on his part that provenance had a much more limited role in the girls rescue than he first imagined.  I can see him finally put it all together when he sees me. I know I’ve been made at this point so my attempts at being a wallflower  were immediately curtailed.

There is an evil glint in his eyes as I shuffle slowly by him.  An evil glint and a slack jawed dazed look, like he’s not there.  He isn’t there.  I can tell that the rest of the crowd in some way  recognizes that Fucking Scum is present in body only.  The lump of meat, bloodied and bleeding accompanies the cops to lock up.

I know its not the intro completed but hopefully its the beginning of a blueprint  detailing specific action steps completed and needed to have my wildest set of dreams for my life simply come true.  For me it all started with the take down of Fucking Scum and the next several years  make up the most interesting period of my life.

As a Hidden Vigilante.


It has been insinuated but not said outright (as far as I know) that the piece of shit who shot and killed 58 innocent people outside of the Mandalay Bay Casino in Las Vegas may have been angry about mounting gambling losses and wanted to punish the casino with his horrible deed.

I don’t know if this is true or not.  Really hope that its not because I don’t want to think that someone could possibly be such a self centered, petulant, sniveling crybaby while also being a megalamaniacal psycho who thought that it would be okay, even justified, to basically use a pool of 22,000 innocent humans who were minding their own business just enjoying their weekend, listening to country music, drinking beer and dancing, as personal pawns in a misguided revenge  vendetta against the casino/industry/city that he felt robbed him.

Unfortunately, in my opinion, and in the absence of any other credible theories, its the motive that rings true to me.

This is obviously a very touchy sensitive subject.  Many people were negatively impacted, to put it mildly, by this madman Stephen Paddock’s actions.  I point this out to assure my readers that I am taking the subject matter very seriously and not just talking out of my ass throwing wild rumors out there to get attention.

That sort of attention I don’t need okay?

The LA Times article I linked to in the very first sentence of this piece talks about the casinos and how they have increased the difficulty of winning playing slot machines in general and specifically video poker over the last decade or so.

I speak from painful personal experience when I tell you that I concur that the games have gotten much more dificult to win on.  I could give you hundreds of examples of how fucked up the casinos are and not just examples from my gambling career.

I have friends that have lost millions.  Literally over one million dollars in less than a year.  He is going to remain anonymous until I speak with him to get his permission to discuss his story.  I am actually going to talk to a lot of people I know in hopes that they allow me to discuss their stories.  I’m thinking that now may be the time to expose what I know first hand about this industry and how they ruthlessly target people who cannot afford to gamble by playing on their weaknesses in order to exploit them to the point of abject poverty and then toss them aside like the green leaves and stringy white stuff left from shucking corn.


YET…The public should know about the desperate anger, self hatred, extreme defensiveness, shame, guilt and sadness that is often a direct result of gambling in these estsblishments.

The chances of winning have steadily decreased over time leading to a converse increase in peoples misery, hopelessness, desperation, poverty, child and spousal abuse and neglect and many other negative effects.

The consequences of this naked greed on the part of the casino for the gamblers and their loved ones can be spectacularly devastating.  Almost beyond words.  I am not saying the tragedy that unfolded in such a horrifying way at the Route 91 festival could have been averted if the casino wasn’t so impossible to win at.

I am saying that I have personally witnessed many desparate acts that WERE a direct result of a bad outcome at the casino and regardless of the motive in Sundays’s shooting, these greedy casinos should be reined in to make the playing field a little less one sided.

I understand the casino has to make money, the odds have to be on their side etc but let me tell you…some of these places are blatantly just fucking everyone who walks through the door and they just keep getting away with what I consider robbery.  Bleeding people dry like I said and then discarding them via a lifetime ban for ridiculous infractions. Its not right how they treat people yet they continue to do so because nobody has the balls to speak up.

None of this should be construed in any way to be some kind of justification for the shithead Stephen Paddocks evil acts.  His gambling results no matter what they were could never excuse such vile deeds.  He was a fuckhead through and through and his brother the one who rattles on about what a wonderful man he was should just shut the fuck up and go away because I am sure he is starting to irritate people who might not be as inclined as I am to just discuss the situation without resorting to other means of making a point.

I am also not belittling the losses of so many wonderful people who were victims of this tragedy.  My flesh and blood sister and her husband both attended the festival and narrowly escaped becoming victims themselves.

I’m not even sure if its right to bring up trivial things like the unfairness of the casino industry in general in the wake of the madness perpetrated on those in attendance last Sunday night but possibly the reality of what really goes on at places like Mandalay Bay and countless other money hungry cash cows will not fall on deaf ears at this time.

The fact that the odds are so highly stacked against players who are specifically targetted by the casinos through the promise of free plays, free stays, free food and more.  People are sucked in without fail even though they can not afford to lose money earmarked for necessities (rent, transportation, child care, groceries, clothing etc).  Yet, the vast majority of the time, losing is exactly what they do.

The repercussions of societys fixation on gambling are devastating and almost unimaginable at times.  Casino management is faced with ultimatums delivered from high above their pay grade and they really have no choice.   Chew people up, spit them out and don’t give a fuck about leaving lives in a shattered mess.  They can’t afford to care.  Not really.

“Civilized” members of society who don’t know any better throw out wotds like restraint,  like self control, like responsibility.  However, they forget what it is like to have a one hundred dollar bill that you have to somehow stretch imto a thousand or face disaster.  How can a person be blamed for being tempted into trying their luck when really that one hundred bucks alone just isnt doing shit for them. It sucks either way but if you win…..why theres a fresh start, a clean slate, you live to fight another day and that is a good feeling.

the casinos know exactly what they are doing, psychological mind fucks designed to part the players from their wallets.

this tale will be continued motherfuckers.  until next time ….

P.S. God bless all of the people affected by the tragedy at Mandalay Bay.  I pray that we never have to witness such a deplorable set of circumstances again. I am truly sorry that it even happened this time.  Such a waste in all aspects.

Porky’s Tragic Death

Been friends with this lady Stephanie W. Kelly since 2009. We have had lots of adventures, mostly revolving around casino gambling or working doing manual labor jobs with her or swimming and getting tan at her pool which is 17 feet deep and has a diving board that is about 18 feet above the water.

When we first met she had a pig named Porky. Porky was a wild pig that she somehow caught or got (not sure which) at the river bottom in Norco. I don’t even know where that is but apparently it does exist because I saw Porky’s huge fucking pig body hundreds of times with my own eyes. It was a real pig.

Anyways this dude Eric Kisner was good friends with Stephanie when I first met her. Apparently he was with her when she got the pig. he was really good friends with the pig and he used to chase it around and the pig would chase him back sort of like a dog. A dog that weighs 500 pounds and has tusks and huge teeth.

The pig was frightening and I never felt safe around it. One time the fucking thing bit me in the knee.

Anyway Eric and Stephanie sort of drifted apart for whatever reason (I actually know the exact reason but I ‘m not telling you) and Eric was kind of forced to give up his affiliation with Porky. Pretty sad in a way. They had known each other since Porky was just a few weeks old and truth be told they had a really special relationship. They spent their days frotting together in the dirt area that became Stephanie’s lawn and you could see there was a magical bond there almost as if Eric was a pork whisperer.

Wait. What the fuck? Did I say frotting? I meant frolicking. My bad. Yikes my eyeballs would have been burned if I saw that cloven hoofed 500 pound monster frotting with a skinny 140 lb human male. Especially since pigs have corkscrew penises it would have been too much for my retinas to bear and I’m pretty sure I would have been blinded at leaat temporarily by the sight.

Frolicking between man and pig wasn’t as emotionally scarring and anyways I sort of felt bad for Eric that he couldn’t carry on his friendship with Porky.

I gotta be honest. I never liked Porky. He scared me at times and he always intimidated me. He was fucking huge. Just a big fat bastard of a pig, black hair and really dainty looking feet compared to his incredibly fat body.

Compared to his body his feet were dainty. But only compared to HIS body. To me his feet were like devils feet. Black and cloven twisted things that were like fingernails if Satan has fingernails. They were so fucking long I didn’t see how Porky could walk and indeed this was a real problem.

Stephanie had to spend thousands to get the pigs toenails cut because pigs don’t like getting their feet fucked with and Porky would go insane. You dont want to see Porky going insane unless you are a safe distance away behind an unbreakable barrier.

The lady that did the pigs nails had to knock the pig out with an animal tranquilizer normally used for elephants and hippos and shit and after awhile these didn’t even work. Imagine that for a minute if you will. There was NO tranquilizer strong enough to knock this pig out long enough to cut its fucking nails. It got to the point of ridiculousness for everyone involved.

This pig was terrorizing the property anyways. The fucking thing ate tires for fucks sake. It was scary as fuck to be forced to go in its lair to fill up the water or food. I hated doing that shit.

When Stephanie finally put in a lawn and garden where only dirt and rocks existed before, it was easy to see that Porky’s days were numbered. The pig could ruin a flower bed in 30 seconds and Stephanie was starting to get pissed. Of course I egged her on because remember, Porky had bitten me on my knee and drawn blood and I really didn’t like him.

Eventually it all became too much to take. The garden being ruined, the pigs essential fatness, the horribly twisted hooves it was forced to run around with, the huge fucking shits it indiscriminately left everywhere, the loud noises emanating from where it slept. All of it. Inevitably the butcher was called and pretty soon Stephanie had an entire freezer dedicated to the memory of Porky Rasinski. Stephanie’s man Peter and friend Inga wouldn’t touch any of the pork chops, bacon, pork roast or ham steaks but when I moved in with my cousin I filled his freezer with alot of Porky and I had no qualms about enjoying him for breakfast lunch or dinner.

Fast forward to June sixth of this year when I posted a video of Stephanies other pig, Oscar (who is way smaller than Porky and lives in her house) to Facebook. I hadnt heard from Eric in a while but he commented on the video WHERE IS PORKY?

I have to admit the evil delight I got from my response. No words. Just a picture of a porkchop wrapped in white paper with all of the particulars like Stephanies name etc printed on the package. I posted that in reply and for some reason never got another comment back. Poor Eric. I’m sorry man.

Naked, Raw, Perplexed

it is saturday october 2017 and this ship is spinning out of control. i can’t think straight or settle on a course of action. urgently awaited by nobody and everybody and completely mystified about what the right path is for me. i know there has to be an optimum set of actions which will result in the most favorable outcome for my life but its really hard to discern what that may be. the problem is not simple like yes or no, true or false, black or white. hardly anything in my life is simple like that. even the seemingly mundane things are open for analysis and are likely to launch an internal debate.

i hate that i sound like a spoiled indecisive girl who can’t make up her mind whether to shit or get off the pot.i don’t hate myself. really i don’t. however, i am stuck, and truly feeling quite powerless when it comes to the course of my life.i’m hedging my bets with every person, place, and thing; really trying to avoid options disappearing from my view.

its driving me batty though. girls for instance. before july when i started hanging out alot with sheila the possible permutations were seemingly endless. the total number of sexual encounters period is monstrously large. even crazier is the number of different girls in the last _____ _____(s)[PICK A NUMBER AND UNIT OF MEASURE {i.e. hour, day, week, month, year, school, job, city, country, decade, scene, life}]

those tales, no matter which combination you arbitrarily choose would be extensive and somewhat unbelievable. actually that goes for any subject in my past history. the truth is often stranger than anything you could dream up.

not trying to get bogged down, or indundate you (probably bored out of your mind as it is) with words i’m not even sure need to be thought of let alone typed. yet the letters keep coming. reluctantly yet forcefully,

my point is there is no point to this post. yet again, i have suckered myself, and maybe 1 or 2 other, random people reading this post with no idea how their google search for common garden pests got them here.

i am tired. a quick nap will help maybe.

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.

So edgy

Fear is something to fear.  Its the only real barrier.

Fear is annoying but witbout it I believe death would be almost instantaneous.

I’m afraid to die therefore I never truly live.  Controlling results means manipulating people, places and things.  Assholes manipulate.

To the best of my ability seems to be the right answer to every question that haunts me in the wee hours of the night.

Paradoxically maddening thoughts are spinning around my head. I’m almost 50 yet I can’t tell the difference between 21 30 40 and 50.  I CAN tell you that time keeps on pushin pushin pushin into the future.

Everything seems so jumbled and confused.  I don’t know what I want seemingly.

What am I supposed to want?  Who among us can be counted on for the right formula for living that takes into account all of my selfish impulses, immature amd unrealistic hopes, irrational fears, major doubts, concerns about motivating factors (mine and yours) and the uncanny way things eventually turn to shit eventually?

Does it even matter what the fuck I think?

Well on some levels it does matter.

If you are unlucky enough to be counting on me for anything meaningful then what I think matters.

If you are blessed like the overwhelming majority of the universe and my decisions, good or bad don’t affect your life in any real way., then it does not matter what the fuck I think about anything.

That, in a nutshell, is all I can come up with right now.

Do I want to be loved?  Before I answer that let me run something by you.

The only thing I know is that finishing a statement that begins with “the only thing I know” is a loop you deserve to be stuck in if you truly believe that whatever your fundamental lie is that completes that thought is so monumentally important to anyone that it needs to be shared.

Lets face it.  Life is somehow boring enough that there are people who will find themselves reading this nonsense at some time after 1:20 am on Wednesday, September 13th, 2017 and they will now begin questioning themselves and their various shitty details which coalesce to form some semblance of an existence in other words their life.  Why? Because FUCK you! That’s why.

Your shit must be fucked if you are getting anything besides “fuck this asshole” out of anything I have written here tonight.  I mean that in the nicest way possible of course.

If you are shaking your head and beginning to ask yourself what my point is here I don’t blame you.  I am wondering the same thing myself.

My motivation for starting this tale of crap isn’t something I can answer either.  Where I am going with it? Fuck you I have no answer to that.  In fact I am so tired that I don’t remember the question.

Its cliche to say “everything happens for a reason” .  It adds as much meaning to my life as “hairy clowns shave their palms and hybernate with bald bears”.

Its true though.

Hairy clowns do shave their palms and its crazy the amount of clown bear bastards running the planet because their momma bear decided a fucking clown was sexy during that particular winter and got fucked and impregnated by said clown because clown was an irresponsible son of a bitch who didn’t believe in safe sex because he wanted skin on fur or he had erectile issues.  Everything happens for a reason.


I want to scream.


I’ve got better things to do so I won’t scream yet.

The meaning of life,  the answer to all of our questions,  being a part of a collective force greater than my self and my life, deciding what good is, aspiring to greatness,  deciding what greatness is, recognizing the fundamental need for guidance and deciding to be guided, refusing to quit because surviving another day is all we ever really have, changing for the better, caring about more than yourself, limiting selfishness, buying into inclusion, allowing your mind to be receptive, making a mark, having faith, optimism conquering pessimism, appreciating your life, humility, vision, altruism, understanding significance, subtlety, no absolutes, being present, juggling, positive results, pulling it off, light in the darkness, courage not cowardice, priortizing time, reaching for the stars, our lives matter, reunion of families here and in the spirit world, adventure and details and facing the worst and coming up roses, love soul beauty adoration feverish desire, fucking winning.

Defeat the evil within. Hot rails ginger ale 10 cents a glass. And if you dont like that you can kiss my hairy ask me no questions I’LL TELL YOU no lies.

Its been a long time

I was not allowed to use my blog for the last three months because of some glitch with the credit card that I used to upgrade my account.  Glitch meaning wordpress doesn’t appreciate when people use stolen credit card numbers to pay for domain names.  Hahahaha just kidding.  So anyways, moving right along…

I don’t have time to write a full on post right now.  I’ve been putting off my run for like the last two days and its time to pay the piper.  There is a bunch of other shit that takes precedent over blogging right now to be honest.  Running is one.  Girls is one.  Painting is one.  Watching movies on HBO to Go is one.  Coordinating the task of getting my driver license  back is one.  Trying to move out of LA back to OC is another one.  Seeing my daughters before I die is another huge one.  Arranging sexual liaisons with girls is one.  Meeting potential candidates for sexual liaisons is another one.  The list goes on and on.

Honestly I can’t be honest in my blog anymore either.  For a lot of reasons, when it comes to discussing me or my personal life I just need to shut the fuck up.  Therefore, I am announcing that from now on my blog will not be about me anymore but rather I will be commenting on certain stories and whatnot that the public is interested in.  Hopefully you will be into it.  If not, you can fuck off.  LOL just kidding.


Give it a chance.

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




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.

Sydney, Australia: My Hellish Adventures in Paradise

Sydney, Australia is a bad ass city.  I love it there.  I arrived in Sydney one Thursday morning in 2005 I think.  I actually couldn’t even tell you the true year or month right now.  I’m not even sure about the day to be honest with you.  That sounds fucked up but it doesn’t really matter okay.  Don’t worry, I remember all of the other important details.  I had a girlfriend named Ariana at the time.

I have to point out that Ariana was a hot little bitch.  She was so fucking sexy.  She didn’t wear makeup and she didn’t need to.  She had these insane green-blue eyes, thick long black hair, the most beautiful face, lovely swollen C cup breasts and the tastiest ass I swear to God.  Too bad I couldn’t get me a piece of that right now….

Anyway, back to my story….

Ariana and I arrived in Sydney together.  There are some very interesting adventures that preceded our arrival in Sydney but I will have to insist on saving that part of my adventure for some other time.

When we got to Sydney we didn’t have any money whatsoever, except for three 1$ coins.  We didn’t have a mobile phone or any credit cards.   The gas (petrol) tank of our piece of fucking shit car was on empty.  I had a skateboard but Ariana didn’t because we had to sell hers for gas money to some pawn shop a few hours before arriving in Sydney  When we left Byron Bay to drive to Sydney we somehow foolishly thought we would make it with the petrol and little money we had on us.  We were horribly wrong.  Like I said though, fuck that, we won’t get into all of that right now.

Ariana had this friend named Jason who was a bartender at a place on Elizabeth Street in the city called Bar Europa.  When we got to Sydney we stopped at a pay phone and called Jason up.  The plan was for Jason to hook us up with bar tending jobs at his work and maybe loan us a bit of cash to get into a room or something.  Ariana spoke to Jason and he graciously invited us over and was very welcoming and cool as fuck.  He lived in this old hotel on College Avenue, very close to Hyde Park and right in the heart of all the nutty shit that went on in the crazy city of Sydney.  We were broke as fuck and pretty much at the end of our ropes when we got to Sydney let me tell you.  Jason was the coolest fucking dude I swear to God.  He arranged it with Brendan the dude who owned Bar Europa for us to come in and work that same night.

I am a kick ass bartender.  The ladies always loved me and I make excellent cocktails in quick fashion.  Same goes for Ariana.  I actually met Ariana when a couple of friends and myself purchased a bar in Melbourne, a couple years earlier.  Ariana was a bartender at the bar that we bought so suffice to say she could tend bar like a mother fucker.  Plus she was such a hot little piece of ass with this innocent and charming way about her that she was always a favorite of the horny bastards that make their way into the bars of the world.

We had met up with Jason sometime around 10 in the morning or so when he was just getting up.  Like I said, he lived in this rad fucking hotel near Hyde Park, on the14th floor or something.  It was such a kick ass pad that he had.  We had a beer or two and Ariana and him caught up on old times.  They had worked together at some fancy restaurant bar in Wellington, New Zealand and had been friends for years.  Jason gave us a couple hundred bucks for a room and we were so tired from the drive from Byron Bay that we bailed and went and slept the day away, waking up around 5pm and going to work at Bar Europa.

That first week or so in Sydney we lived in this divey hotel type place that cost like 40 a day or so to stay there.  It had cable tv and all of that but it was really small.  Beggars can’t be choosers though and I really was down to just work and fuck my girlfriend and didn’t really think about much more then that for a bit.

The owner of Bar Europa loved us both but couldn’t guarantee both of us full time work.  Ariana was hired full time, hot little eye candy that she was, and I got like two shifts a week.  Friday nights and Tuesday nights.  So obviously I had to find another job or we were going to just be broke forever.  When we first got to Sydney we weren’t really getting high very much at all.  Getting drugs is really hard in countries like Australia and New Zealand if you don’t know people.  In Melbourne, where I used to live, I had a pretty decent little network of people I could turn to, but in Sydney I was high and dry for quite a while.  So, instead of staying up all night painting and skating and just getting nuts gambling and shit, for the first month or so that we lived in Sydney I laid low and worked and made out with my girlfriend and got drunk and stuff.

We got sick of that dark and dingy little room that we were staying in and somehow got hooked up with this backpacker place in Bondi Beach that we went and stayed in.  It was so fucking rad.  I actually ended up living in Sydney for over a year and never moved out of that place.  It was called Tama house and it was on Kenneth Street in Tamarama, literally 500 yards away from the beach in Bondi.  Next time I post, I will tell you about finally hooking up with drug connections hahaha, gambling, Redfern, and more okay.  I think traffic has died down enough for me to get the fuck out of here and get my weekend started. 

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

Swamp chickens, Ghetto dwelling, and the Norco Crips

That title is surely an attention getter if ever I did see one.  By the way for the last week or so ever since I decided that I am from North Carolina you would do much better as far as understanding my nonsense if you read it in your mind as if you was also from North Carolina or any other state that refers to shopping carts as buggies.  Just read it with a twang and we’re gonna get along just fine okay.

I ain’t really got much time for a post here right now being the urban jet setting pretty boy that I am but I feel its necessary to touch base with my constituents from time to time as a way of  getting down into the trenches with y’all common folk.  Y’uns is spectacular prized pupils of mine.  The lesson that I am trying to teach has not been revealed to me as of yet but I’m sure it will be in time for all of us to get the necessary wisdom  from that there lesson.

Actually this is a garbled attempt at sounding somehow outlandish when really and truly I am in a rush.  I need to go meet up with my sister Theresa who has my driver’s license by 5pm at her place of gainful employment, I forgot the name of it but its over there up yonder somewhere in the vicinity of Lincoln Avenue and the 91 Freeway.  She done told me that it was on the other side of McDonald’s which must be a blessing for anyone to be so honored to work nearby such a beautiful and wonderful company outlet as a franchisee of McDonald’s.  I would love to work nearby McDonald’s and have the wonderful sensation of gaining a pound of rancid beef fat added to my svelte waistline each and everyday.  After all, its a very family friendly and budget conscious place to eat.  You know as well that McDonald’s corporate  headquarters has made it their mission in 2011 for all of its many franchises to express individuality and originality with their menu options.

For instance in Fontana, California, the McDonald’s franchisee up there has renamed his restaurant McTucky’s after their adopted home state of Kentucky.  They offer such delectable delights as the McSwamp Chicken Tenderloin sandwich in honor of the great state of Alabama (Roll Tide!!).  Does anyone know what a swamp chicken is by the way?  I coined the phrase myself of course one day last week in a state of extreme delirium when I was visited by an apparition of a redneck militia soldier who rolled up on me in his buggy while I was playing Cleopatra Keno over at Pechanga Casino.

I had been at the same machine for 16 days you see, and I felt like I needed dialysis treatment because my kidneys had been assaulted by nothing but Pepsis as way of nutrition the entire marathon session.  When you are sitting at a slot machine which you don’t want to give up because its already taken your firstborn child, your left testicle, 75% of your remaining life force and of course the contents of your wallet, all available credit cards and a good deal of your dignity (due to having been forced to prostitute yourself in the high limits bathrooms to creepy Asian matrons with breath that smells like Pork Kung Pao dipped in Ponzu Sauce and served with fresh garlic) it gets kinda hard to remember the basic fundamentals of healthy human living like eating food, taking showers and brushing your teeth (also known as gumming your hushpuppies, if you are from Missouri, the Buggy State).

It never fails you see, when you have thrown the equivalent of a brand new Chevrolet Suburban into a computerized personal one armed robbery facilitator, or “slot machine”, and you get up out of frustration to maybe clear your head, brush your nasty ass teeth and have a smoke while maybe even taking a look at the  sun for the first time in forever, that some old ass asian water buffalo will saunter up and immediately hit the progressive jackpot on your untended machine.  If you have ever gone through such a miserable and incomprehensibly demoralizing (sound familiar 12 steppers?) nightmare as I have many times you know what I’m talking about.  Its painful hombre.  Very very painful.

In an effort to ensure that  such a horrible outcome does not repeat itself, most compulsively degenerate morons who gamble, such as myself, have taken certain steps, which  when used in conjunction with a lobotomy, have been shown to be of assistance in dealing with this issue.  One of these steps is known as Transcendental Medication and is a method similar to the “meditation” practiced by Buddhists and New Age Flower Children for years now.  Many of the processes involved with TM as I’ll call it are the same only different as its older, better, less stupid brother, Meditation.  Both involve wiping the psyche clear of mental debris that maybe inhibiting the swamp also known as your mind and preventing it from processing life through a more realistic and less expensive filter then the constantly failing “Angry and Disgruntled Degenerate Slot Player” most of the people that benefit from TM have historically chosen.

You are probably asking yourself what any of this slick jargon has to do with the topic you are here to learn more about.  That topic of course is the history of the Swamp Chicken which no doubt has left you in a state of nervous anticipation, bordering on frenzied manic hysteria while you have been nervously counting down the hours until which time I deemed appropriate to share with you, gentle reader.  To be honest, I’m somewhat lost myself on what TM has to do with a swamp chicken.  The thing is, I  figure it would be a waste to waste (is that even proper grammar?) my elegantly crafted lines of pure horse manure that I’ve typed so far so (again….proper grammar?) I’m just going to have to continue bluffing at the connection between the two totally unrelated and actually non exsitent subjects.

I figure its easier to just continue double barreling y’all with blasts of bullshit that have no roots in reality rather then suck it up, admit to God, myself and all of the other human beings the exact nature of my “lack of anything meaningful to share” and start over or perhaps even scrap the whole ridiculous idea of writing a post today.  Hopefully, I can continue to baffle and amaze both of us with this boisterous, bat shit bending banter and somehow pull it all together at the end with some sort of  fairy tale like save while managing to sound humble, enthusiastic and pleasantly self effacing at the same time as appearing to be competent and genuine.

I am thinking that maybe this is a bit much to have on my plate today but you know what “they” say…(throw in some tired cliche about never losing sight of your dreams) and a blah blah blah blah blah blah and a yaddha yaddha yaddha.

Oh yeah, ghetto dwelling and the Norco Crips too okay? Assa lamma lenkum my brothers and sisters and God bless us each and everyone.  Take care folks, talk to y’uns later.

This is Anthony Mandich, your humble and nutritious servant saying, So Long!


P.S.  “Hottest Ass”

P.P.S. “Sex, drugs, and Pussy”!

P.P.S.S. “Sean Stenlake”, Sean Stenlake:  Attorney at Law, Sean Stenlake:  American Hero, Sean Stenlake:  The Brother I Never Knew, Sean Stenlake:  Lessons in Being Great, Sean Stenlake I Love You, Sean Stenlake:  Blue Eyed Wunderkind, Sean Stenlake:  Everything You Have Always Wanted to Know But Were Afraid to Assk

one last thing, i’m going to experiment to see how many hits i get from putting these tags in this post okay?  sean stenlake, sean stenlake attorney, anthony mandich idiot savant, what a stupid blog, god i’m dumb, ass, hottest ass, hottest fucking ass meets hotter fucking ass, asses that are hot, hotties without ass, ass loving hoes, what an ass, asshole, ass ass ass nothing but just pure ass, got ass?, want ass?, smell my ass, you are an ass, assume nothing, makes an ass out of you and me, get it ass?, ha ha ha ass sss you eaten dinner yet, ass is assembled, big huge ass in my ass, tickle my ass, put your cigar out on my ass, man do i love talking about ass, ass is so cool man, its all about the ass, get it, ass???, who wants to over use the word ass?, jackass, horse’s ass, jackasses with ass eating tendencies, horse’s ass is a big ass and they fuck that ass, horny mexican mamas with hottest ass, korean ass, chinese ass, japanese ass, white trash ass bandit, booty smelling ass pigs, ass in zen, common characteristics of an ass, wikipedia entry for ass, history of anthony mandich’s ass, poop comes out of a butt but you sir are an ass, Wiki ass, wiki mandich asshole, fucking ass lover, grape nuts drive me nuts ass boy, why do you love the mans ass so god damn much, damn what an ass, enough already with the ass ass, ass ass boy, ass ass toy, jump on that ass, fist that ass, tongue dart the dark star, jason rhodes is an ass, me and my ass, growing up with my ass, hairy ass, smelly ass, fat as a rhino’s ass, big ass white bitches, trailer park ass, old ass, legal young ass, don’t be such an ass, monetizing your blog through the use of the word ass, google searches with ass, attention getting titles, attention getting ass, assghanistan, north carolina living, i come from a buggy, get in my buggy, mantra, meditation, buddhism, transcendental medication, professing to be wise, they became fools, facing the nation, 12 steps, incomprehensible demoralization, self effacing twits, mocking the readers, the moons over my hammy, ethan hawke, boys love boys ass that are over 18 of course. smash that ass with your tongue, faux outlandish, cliche driven mockery, waste of time topics, dude i want to kill you for wasting my time, becoming a slog even if you are human, human seo, human slog, slog, search engine optimization for dummies, copyrights for dummies, dummies for dummies, buggies for dummies, stupid is forrest gumpisms for dummies, i’m a big old dummy, i fuck chicks, i fuck chicks alot, chcks love to suck my ass


Its so much like a jungle, sometimes it makes me wonder, how I keep from going under

Fuck this! Fuck that!

What does it say about our nation when 59 of the 94 hits I have gotten on my blog today are from people doing searches on google?  Before you answer consider that 90% of the searches had some variant of the word “ass” in them.  Ha Ha Ha!  I don’t even remember which post I did that included all this ass people are searching for.  I have posted one hot pic of these Catholic School chicks  just looking so fuckable its insane here let me show you that one again.

The blonde chick has the hottest ass and I want to eat it.

Come on Can you Really DENY the essential horniness in this picture?  I’m not asking the eunuchs in the house.  Actually are there any eunuchs that read my this blog?  Doubtful.  Do you even know what a eunuch is?  According to the online dictionary Merriam Webster:


noun \ˈyü-nək, -nik\

Definition of EUNUCH

1: a castrated man placed in charge of a harem or employed as a chamberlain in a palace
2: a man or boy deprived of the testes or external genitals
3: one that lacks virility or power <political eunuchs>
eu·nuch·ism \-nə-ˌki-zəm, -ni-\ noun

Origin of EUNUCH

Middle English eunuk, from Latin eunuchus, from Greek eunouchos, from eunē bed + echein to have, have charge of — more at scheme

First Known Use: 15th century
Here’s a sample test to see if you “might” have eunuch tendencies.  Do any of the pictures on this blog post make you feel like shedding your clothes and doing crazy things with appropriately aged, consenting females?  If you answered no then you have definitely better get yourself checked for Eunuch Disease.

Too Bad She wouldn't marry me

Anyways, so yeah I’m not really talking to the eunuchs in the house because I don’t want to skew my results but for everybody else even girls isn’t there just a raw sexuality to that picture?  Fucking Hot is what I say! Getting off the path of righteousness here but its hard to concentrate with that ass staring at me and taunting me hahahaha.  This is how shallow I am.  I wanna marry the girl with that blonde ass.  You heard me.  Sight unseen, can’t even pretend to know what her face is like but just the ass alone is enough to make me want to leave my entire fortune to her. That’s so fucked up.
How would I go about finding her?  And if I did somehow find her what would I say by way of introducing myself?  “Umm…hi, ever since I saw that picture of you doing dirty things with your school girl uniform on, I’ve really wanted to get to know you better?”  She’d be like, “okaaaaaaay stalker”, as she pulls out her pepper spray…
I had these good intentions to write a good little farcical tale on how depraved the people who find my blog through google searches about ass are and look what has happened! I’ve sunk down to their levels.  I’m one of them.  I can’t deny it.  I’ve probably searched for gnarlier shit then the people who end up here anyways.  Nothing comes to mind really but I can remember more then one time, trying to type one handed looking for some good old internet porn.  One handed as in with the left hand because the right hand was all greased up lol hahahahaha.  Too much information Mr Mandich.  nobody wants to hear about your sick self love episodes!  (that’s what i have to keep telling myself).

She's pretty fucking hot. She dumped me lol.

My favorite kind of writing is this sing song nonsense, the computerized version of talking because you like the sound of your own voice.  I’ve had a lot of hits on my blog lately.  Enough for me to start thinking that maybe I’m something special (should have known better).  Here is the exact numbers from the six days prior to today:  140, 108, 133, 117, 147, 124 and last time I looked maybe an hour ago I had 94 for the day already.  I just looked now and I have 97 for the day.  Last night on Excel, I quickly extrapolated those numbers and figured out that I’m averaging 900 views per week, 4000 per month, 48,000 per year.  So I started to get a little bit of a big head like I said.

Anthony Mandich is still very much in love with Marilyn Monroe

But I dug into the numbers a bit and that’s when I noticed that the only thing carrying my pathetic blogs numbers are the different variations of “ass” searches on google.  Sad but true.  I guess I need to really work on the quality of my content in order to gain more readers.
That’s all, and have a happy Sunday my friends.  (All seven of you!!!)

Anthony Mandich gets a funny feeling inside when he sees this girl

Eric Schlenker and the Crown Town Punx Part 1.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anthony and Natalie

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

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

Check out this link:

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



Looking for an Art Agent

I, Anthony Mandich, promise to pretty much piss everybody off here

I don't ask for much these days and I don't bitch and whine if I don't get my way

What should I talk about today hmmm?  All sorts of shit perhaps?  Okay, well I feel like a pretty big star right now because Antonio Sabato Jr., that hunk of a man posted a little thank you blurb on my Facebook wall a little bit ago.  What a nightmare for that poor guy really.  I mean how does one deal with one supercreepy yet oddly popular little fella like me?  I am doing an unauthorized and definitely unsolicited yet supremely fucking cool painting of his girlfriend cheryl and i posted a copy of it on his wall so he came on my wall and said thanks.  I mean he doesn’t want to appear ungrateful to his fans and shit so that’s understandable but still though, how many sicko fans does the dude probably have?  I can only imagine how many dumpy dowdy mid western fatty housewives from Kansas or Kentucky or Nebraska or some shit are members of his fan club.  My God, the thought horrifies me for him.  All these wanna be sexy, wanna be cougars (without the cash, class and with triple the ass) who fell in love with Antonio when was on General Hospital way back when….wow.  I’m sure tons of them have painted portraits of him or baked him cookies or sent him their size 124 extra stout soiled panties in the mail, total delusions of grandeur running through their fat little heads that Antonio really wants any of this shit.  That Antonio wants anything more then to be left alone lol.  But still, he is a very successful public figure with a cultivate heartthrob image and has probably always felt obligated to personally thank everyone for whatever little gifts they send, no matter how fucking insane they might actually be.  And he’s actually totally fucking cool.  I mean I know plenty of my own REAL FLesH AND bLOOD FRIENDS,  who feel it well within their rights to delete my posts or censor me or whatever.  To his credit, everything I have ever posted on his wall, is still there.  So I respect him for reals and I feel sorry for him too.  So I try not to be too much of a creep with my celebrity friends and anyways fucking hell the painting is sick as fuck.  Its rad.  So maybe I’m a delusional midwestern cougar fatty myself and if I do send him the painting someday, it will probably end up God knows where but doubt if its gonna be hanging over the dining room table lol.  Well thats my first topic at a close.  Bottom line, don’t be hard on Antonio Sabato Jr. , as he is a cool mother fucker, a handsome mother fucker, with a hotter then goddamn hell girlfriend, and he’s not a dick.  Alrighty moving right along….

Actually Anthony Mandich is not worthy to paint this Goddess

Wow I could go in so many directions right now.  Should I talk about this chick Kendra that I made out with for brief interlude on Saturday night in Los Angeles, should I talk about Steve Jacobson and how good he has it with his sexy ass girlfriend who is down to be his sex slave basically, should I talk about Ryan Johnson, that suave debonair friend of mine, with a face whose cheeks you just wanna squeeze he’s that handsome of a specimen?  Should I talk about my last sexual encounter(s) with _ _ _ _ _ _ or _ _ _ _ _ or _ _ _ _ _ _?  Should I talk about the many beautiful young ladies I fell in love with at the Apoolcalypse party on Saturday August 21st, 2010 at Dystopian Studios? There were many new faces such as Toni, H (8th Letter)-WOW!, Sasha, Kim.  There were many faces I’ve seen before but only strengthened my love for like Eunice, Eden, and Heather.  There was one notable face missing, that I’m pining over, Erica.  So yeah we could go there and stay there for a couple of blogs. 

I could talk about the termination of all contact forever with my ex wife Briar.  There are plenty of untold scandalous details to unfold for you captive readers.  Since she can now officially “suck it” she is fair game so perhaps that’s a topic?

We could get into some really taboo stuff like my dealing with Rodney who none of you are familiar with at the moment but you would be fascinated with learning about.

Gambling is a topic I am aching to get into with you all.  I have a horror story hand to tell you about but I’m still sickened by it myself so I don’t actually know if i I wanna go there right now.

We could even gloss over a few little sentences about my buddy Sean Stenlake’s sexier then goddamn hell little princess of a girlfriend Natasha who is a real life Playboy Playmate who Sean is privileged enough to ravage on a daily basis about forty feet from where I know find myself perched.

LA in general is not a bad topic and i have lots to go over on that end as well.  We could get into a little Area 33 discussion, we could talk about Jacen Onda and his antics.  I could finish by previously started series about my ex girlfriend “Polly” or was it “Dolly” who is now safely back in her husbands house in “Texas”.

My fat dog Woodie getting owned, punked and probably butt fucked by Snickers on a nightly basis, is a topic I have alot of enthusiasm to discuss.  My brother Jon, wow, I would love to do a special series just on Jon alone.  He’s a special and unique young creature of the night and we could spend many an hour together about him.

We are both urban legends. Anthony Mandich and Jon Mandich.

I’ve got an MMA fighter friend named Ian McCall who I plan to get up to some mischief with really soon.  We could talk about him and his competitive sexual nature.  He’s definitely a kindred spirit although I’m not too sure he  would be really that proud of such a horrible fact.

Casino Junkie Crew is one topic I plan on spending several hours regaling you with tales about.  Probably I will end up writing a book about topic alone if  live long enough.

Codependent’s reunion show, Jim Kennedy’s birthday bash, Ricky Menace’s return to the stage….all on three consecutive days starting this Friday…we will get into all the gory details of that weekend but lets wait until that weekend happens.

What else?  The Christian Facebook Army, Caffeine Magazine and my exclusion therefrom, JoJo Meadows art promotion efforts on my behalf in the UK, the state of the union of my art career and life in general, the chaos that is my room.  All of these are worthy topics and I want to get to all of them.  As you can see we have lots to discuss and I  think I’m gonna leave everybody with that for now as I have a poker tournament to play on Full Tilt at the moment, as well as a painting I am working on.

Bye Everybody.  I miss you Michelle and Kellie the Bear Woman

My new adventures by Anthony Mandich

This tale begins with me going to Huntington Beach at the stroke of midnight last night to pick up an old “friend”.  I’m not sure how this person’s husband would react to this tale so I’m going to leave her identity a secret unless she does something to piss me off.

The first bad thing I did was take my mom’s car.  It’s a minivan a Ford Something.   It’s relatively new and comfortable to drive and definitely does not attract unwanted attention from our friends in the Law Enforcement Community.

Off with his head thank God!

My step dad left a set of keys to this luxury vehicle in his Hyundai when he and my mother departed for the Grand Cayman Islands a couple of weeks ago.  I’m allowed to drive the Hyundai but its a beater.  It has no tinted windows and I’m less certain about this car and its ability to fend off the attention of law enforcement.

The reason I went to Huntington Beach to begin with is because this friend (lets call her Dolly) was pretty desperate to see me I guess, and agreed that I should be able to go play poker at Larry Flynt’s fabulous poker room in Gardena, the world famous Hustler Casino.    Since I had no money of my own with which to play, Dolly graciously agreed to sponsor me, with the understanding of course, that should I win (a near certainty according to me), she wanted her money back plus half of the winnings.


That’s the exact word that was flowing through my brain.  Whatever.  Here was a chance for action, the chance to make some much needed money.  There was no risk for me other then the risk we human beings take every time we leave the house.  I mean anything can happen anytime right?  So needless to say, even though I barely slept the night before because I was working diligently on my new video, Nouvelle Vague-Dance With Me (which can be seen by pasting this link in your browser’s address bar, ) , I was more then keen to go pick up Dolly and make my way to the Hustler Casino.

I quickly decided to take my mother’s car and being the good son that I am, I dutifully posted a message informing her of my intentions on her Facebook wall.  (Yes, my mother Heather Davies, does indeed have a Facebook account which she uses on a daily basis).  I was very shadowy and vague about why I needed to use her car, rather then Chip’s Hyundai.  I think I muttered (can one mutter while typing?) something about not trusting the Hyundai for longer trips and that I needed to drive “down by the beach”.

Dolly was already quite intoxicated as evidenced by her slurred messages to me on Facebook (again is it possible to slur one’s words while typing?) and I was never the hugest fan of Dolly the Lush.  So there was that.  She was goading me into hurrying “the fuck up” and other assorted choice appeals for me to get my ass in gear.  I was in no hurry however, as I had quite a few unfinished conversations to wrap up on Facebook, a couple of projects pending on Photoshop, and a myriad of other concerns that needed to be addressed.  Plus, I knew Dolly did not have a car, was wasted and would go out no matter what time I made it to her.

I will continue this tale on my next post.  This could turn out to be a tale that needs to be told over a period of several posts in fact.  Until next time….