A Chestful Of Medals, A New Dress For Every Gal, And A Small Animal In The Skillet

May 8, 2020 Diary entry: Hey everybody, this is Paulie, I’m coming to you from an undisclosed location somewhere in the upper mid-western part of a nation which sits astride that great island in the sea, America, the nation that rides the earth like an angry drunken cowboy rides the bartender because he is way too slow with the drinks, and after a long hard ride, a cowboy’s thirst needs tendin’ to, anyway, is it just me, or does Bill’s wife Melinda Gates look like an aged Dick Tracy wearing a dead skunk wig on her head, she looks like she could strangle Bill with one hand while never setting down her wine glass, her hands are so massive, I think her pinkie finger is too big to pick King Kong’s nose, it would be like trying to fit a hot dog into one of those small button holes in the collar of that shirt your wife makes you wear when her Aunt Clemma visits from out of town, anyway, I stayed in a classy hotel last week when I visited the big city for an engagement I couldn’t get out of, the lobby was gargantuan, the restaurant had anything you could ever ask for, and there was a well-dressed gentleman in the crapper that handed out freshly laundered hand towels for drying your hands after peeing, I know I always get mine wet, anyway, the guy’s name was R. U. Dunn, and he said he had been a bathroom attendant since graduating from the prestigious Academy of Restroom Selective Service and Entropic Sciences, or A.R.S.S.E.S., anyway, when Paulie was a patriotic dashing young man, he proudly wore many medals on his chest which were bestowed upon him, well, they weren’t medals exactly, they were more like buttons, yeah, I was one of those idiots that bought a button making machine that they were advertising in the early eighties, I was gonna sell a button to every man, woman, and child in the nation, I was gonna make a million in the first week, I was going to sell smiley buttons, hello I’m me buttons, bug off buttons, I just finished my first EST therapy and I’m okay, and you’re an asshole buttons, please vote for the whales buttons, anyway, I didn’t make any money, but me and my friends had buttons pinned everywhere you could imagine, anyway, after learning I wasn’t cut out to be a business mogul, I got a job on a farm doing odd jobs the farmer didn’t want to do, it turned out that Old McDonald had a drinking problem and he would ride a cow into town every Friday night to gather hired hands for the big roundup because he was driving a herd of cows eastward to Jack In The Box, and after the big sale, he was gonna pay for the biggest blowout anyone had ever seen this side of the Mississippi River, and he was gonna buy a new dress for every gal in town and every man would be treated to a free haircut, well, I quit that job after the first party turned out to be two Irish potato farmers and a grungy drifter who claimed he was the doppelganger of a rich Norwegian duchess, they vowed that the square dance would never end until one of them was dead, I spent the next six years going from one loser job to another, until I finally got my big break, I met a science fiction writer who paid me for my life story, I sold him everything I had, that is why I had to adopt a new persona and why I am what I am today, I am Paulie 2.0, I am Paulie Redone, Paulie Twice Baked, Paulie Rewired, I am Paulie Risen From The Ashes Like A Great Phoenix Bird, well, night has fallen, my campfire has a warm inviting glow, and my little animal in the skillet is almost ready to flip, this is Paulie out here where life is real, at an undisclosed location in the heart of Paulie World, hoping you all receive second helpings of the good things you desire, shalom…

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