Andrew (Andy) Pagana

Posted By AndyFan: Andy is a very big fan of his Auntie Q. He talks about her so often you would think he has several Auntie Q’s. And while one persons Auntie Q is more meaningful to them than the next persons, Andys’ Auntie Q is very, very special to him. He adores his Auntie Q. Hoards the time he has with his Auntie Q. Tries to tell his other relatives that their Auntie Q is not as special as they think, thus making them believe they should let Andy have all of their Auntie Q to himself.

Posted by Andyfan: Andy says its great. I’m still on 8. We are never on the same page. But you should know that by now.

Posted by AndyFan: Let’s just say this, the sequel had better be as good as part 1. That’s all I am saying about that. Don’t try and get more out of me. Andy and I have a verbal agreement that I am not allowed to talk about his life when he says it is off limits. This story is off limits, so I can’t talk about it. But if he ever makes a movie about it, well I will be first in line (I may even invest). You all should be second, because this is good. I am already waiting for him to do the sequel, but maybe he will just let some up-and-comer handle that. He may already be above the sequel.

Posted by AndyFan as Andy was too shocked and dismayed to right this himself: I (read Andy, not AndyFan) went to delete you (you know who you are, you) from Facebook, and you (putz) had already deleted me (read Andy The Awesome). Eff you! Who the effing eff do you think you are, you eff? Eff Off!

Posted by AndyFan: Friends, Romans, countrymen, you all suck b@lls. Where are the praiseful words? Where are the scornful eyes? Envy? Disgust? Where is the violent reaction to Andy. He’s done things lately (and here, but we won’t talk a bout the parallels) and been cock blocked by unnamed blogs that exist this very day in Los Angles. Good or bad, but don’t be indifferent. Andy hates indifference. OK, he hates indifference when he is the subject. He tends to be indifferent towards many things but we all know they aren’t that interesting, otherwise Andy would be interested, and thus, not indifferent. I know you see what I am saying. Basic math my friends. Basic math.

Posted by AndyFan: Sometimes no matter how wrong something is, we are just compelled to try it anyway. Even if so many before us have failed. We forge on with the thought that maybe, just maybe, everyone else wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe, quite possibly, they didn’t know what they were doing. This blog, for instance, started on such a whim. “No, it won’t be much work,” he said. “Really,” he responded, “are you sure?” “Absolutely! A few times a week and that is it,” he replies, “And once we get going it will be really easy. Think of all the readers!” You can discuss amongst yourself who he is and who he is not, but we know, and we are pissed. However, neither one of us is a quitter. (Ok we procrastinate like hell, but did we say we were giving up? NO! So sit down!) And in spite of a long and drawn out intermission, one in which the theater goers may have fallen asleep on the john, AndyFan was compelled to jump back in the saddle (are you really in the saddle or are you on the saddle, it is one of the stupider phrases we have turned around here). Upon the late night conversation that occurred as AndyFan failed to avoid another one of Andy’s calls, thus failing two fold as Andy would point out, AndyFan was bestowed an epiphany. And then he had a thought. Andy is a mad genius.

It is at times like these that AndyFan is the proudest to be Fan of Andy. It is precisely these instances that bring about entire shifts in the Andy universe. The ONLY universe. Radical landscape changes. Andy is not one for landscapes but he does enjoy a portrait or two (wait until I tell you what is coming!). Now AndyFan doesn’t know much about art but be does feel honored when Andy shares his with AndyFan. Since I am only “hired” help he could care less what I have to say. Such was the case when Andy talked over AndyFan as AndyFan was endowing kind words upon Andy for his latest post impressionistic masterpiece. Before you judge Andy for his disregard of artistic compliments (more is never really enough) understand he too was having an epiphany. “Oils and acrylics.” he evanglicized. “They don’t mix,” I told him (having painted my share of walls, thank you very much). “I know, but I gotta see for myself.” “But Andy, you get so frustrated when things don’t work.” “I know, I know, but I am compelled to try.”

Ladies and gentlemen, there in lies the reason The Spirit of Andy Compels Me and perhaps even this blog exists. We were compelled, we had a thought and thought you would want to know what we were thinking about Andy, because, well, Andy is so compelling. The Spirit lives on.

Posted By AndyFan: You expected more? Seriously? Can I ask what blog you have been reading all this time? Are you new? Really, you expected more? WE, are disappointed? You don’t want to see us disappointed. It is not pretty.

Posted by AndyFan: That tremor in the force—the one the sent a ripple effect across the eastern seaboard over this past weekend and resulted in a sweltering 102 degree forecast for today—that wasn’t global warming or some mega storm. No. It was Andy. Andrew if you must. From Warshingten to Esopus, our fearless leader laid a path of mayhem up and down the right coast that will cost its citizens countless minutes of untold confusion, especially if you are in the employ of a Dunkin Donuts. Without warning the devastation started days ago. New Jersey will never be the same. On his way out of town he swung by Warshingten to pay me a little encouragement visit. I bid him adieu and felt it was my duty to warn you all.

Los Angeles. Andy should have just landed. We envy your good fortune.

Posted by AndyFan: As I sit in my cave, pondering my next critical move, a knock on the door awoke me from my dreams of worldwide domination. No it wasn’t the FBI. They don’t read this site, they’re far more concerned with greater threats. No, the knock on the door, which caused a little shudder in my spine, was in fact our fearless leader. As I turned out the lights and did my best Marcel Marceau, Andy hollers, “I know you are in there you moron, I saw the light go out. You can’t hide from me! What have you been doing for 6 months? Where are my posts? Where is my support? What do I not pay you for? What kind of minion are you?”

We continued this discourse for the next five or ten minutes. He talking to an “empty” and dark apartment, through a tiny peepholed door, and me finding my best fetal position under the lowest desk—I figured if he got in he certainly wouldn’t bend over to find me. We came to the “understanding” that I was in fact being given one more chance to live up to the whims of a man who builds expectations from the fancies of his day. If I did not post something before he returned to the West Coast then I would in fact suffer the wrath of one thousand lashings—in other words he would tie me to a chair and finally make me watch Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I turned on the light as his rental car pulled out of the parking lot. The horn blasted as if he knew.