Late Evening At Paulie’s Small Domicile Out On The Avenue

Diary entry: Much controversy has been swirling over whether all the giants and animals indeed turned to stone during the years following the Great Flood, please allow Paulie to produce evidence that points to the fact that all the creatures of the earth did factually turn to stone, Paulie was digging around up in the attic and he found an old Easter basket from 1991, the peeps were like rocks and they were only 28 years old, the fossils are much older than that, Paulie only asks that you do the math, c’mon people, does Paulie still have to spell everything out for you, please study your workbooks, listen to Paulie, know Paulie, know his ways, his ways are the ways he wants for you, ride along in Paulie’s reality sedan, the hood ornament is pointed straight down the road, the speedometer is buzzing, we won’t turn back, we are heading into a reality storm, and you are about to be swept away, far away… Diary entry: Jellybean, Jellybean Johnson, we all loved Jellybean, Jellybean swore, yeah, Jellybean swore all the time, he swore at everybody, he swore at the milkman, he swore at the ice cream man, he even swore at the religious guy who hung out in front of the drugstore who handed out directions to his house, but anyway, this entry is not about my old friend Jellybean, no, this is about Paulie’s intention to buy a wrecked bus, yeah, a wrecked bus, Paulie is thinking of buying a wrecked bus, turn it into sort of a man’s get away pad, you know, set it up, make it inviting, dimly lit, hypnotic, there’s the burnt smell but incense can take care of that, the low voltage lighting glancing off smoked glass, glittering in the night, cool evening air, the moon, I better see if I can get the wrecked bus before I get into this any further, Paulie will keep all posted… Diary entry: Was it 1922 Singapore, 1930’s Shanghai, 1952 and the Fire City of Dung Chow, no, it was 2019, it was Panda Express, seemingly clean and pristine on the outside, but there was something underneath this place that perhaps shouldn’t be disturbed, not dug up, a long ago buried cabbage pot full of corruption that could blow the lid off this whole stinking town… Diary entry: I felt as if all the air had somehow been sucked out of Panda Express, I would ask for a doggy bag, I mean a to-go container, I won’t ask for a doggy bag again at an Oriental restaurant, anyway, as a tall, dark haired, pretty Oriental lady delicately transferred my uneaten rice and noodles into a white styrofoam box, she bent over and softly whispered in my ear, “The man in the corner booth wishes to speak with you”, my won tons froze up, my won tons froze to the booth, I couldn’t move… Diary entry: The bartender at Paulie’s house is pretty worthless, tonight’s margaritas are pickle juice and tequila, extra salt on the rim of the pickle jar, this morning’s Bloody Mary was garnished with a potato, I don’t know how long I can go on like this, I need something new, a new day, a new way, a new life, but my back hurts, so I’m just gonna sit here… Diary entry: Listen to me world, freeze dried ice cream is bullshit, they peddled me that crap in 1960 and I’m still pissed…

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