A Calm September Night Out Near The City Limit

Diary entry: Paulie was ejected from one of his usual hangouts this evening, he was explaining the true meaning of the term “buttonholer” to a couple of ladies at the bar, the management asked Paulie to leave so he is drinking at home, Paulie only wants to educate, people have no idea what the “button business” really is… Diary entry: Oh where, oh where, oh why, oh why, oh how, oh how, did it all go wrong, oh where, oh why, oh how did it all go so terribly wrong, these are questions for the ages, questions that quite possibly will go unanswered, but Paulie still asks… Diary entry: You can do what you want, but Paulie will never accept a drink or a cigarette from a stranger again… Emergency late night “Diary” entry: If Paulie’s “Diary” entries have been sounding foreign, odd, or uncharacteristic lately, it is because of this vexing “Murder at the Panda Express” murder investigation, when one’s mind and soul becomes entangled in a vortex of the magnitude that this thing is, then I can only say “Stand back”, “Get back out of the way”, as things are about to explode, and I mean explode, like a rice cooker on a bonfire, Paulie’s fire will rain down on this murderer and Paulie’s fire hose will flush his ashes off the streets of a once again fair city… Diary entry: I was outside of Skagway, I think it was 1960 or ’61, it had been an exceptionally harsh winter, I had no money left, the beavers were froze in, lakes, ponds, rivers, all ice covered, the icicles had icicles, the snow flakes had snow flakes, and I had problems, my problems had problems… Diary entry: I had been in the pantry room fixing myself a pickle juice margarita, pickle juice, tequila, and a bit of salt on the rim of the pickle jar, I retired into my library to enjoy a drink, a smoke, and some reading when I heard the scream of a woman coming from an upstairs room, I didn’t stir, as I had instantly deduced the scenario, it was an unusually harsh woman, her age about the same as mine, she had been upset for some time, yes, it was obvious to a trained thinker that the screaming woman was indeed my wife, still upset over my behavior at last weekends open supper… Diary entry: Panda Express, late night, early evening, it doesn’t matter, there was something in the stale night air, I smelled it before I ever arrived at this seemingly darker, more dangerous Panda Express, darker and more dangerous than ever, and something stunk, yeah, something stunk bad, it stunk like murder, it doesn’t take a bloodhound to smell this stink, it was all around and I was gonna root it out this night, once and for all, I would dig up this long ago buried kimchi pot of stink even if it blew the lid off this whole stinkin’ town…

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