Jan 14, 2020 Diary entry: Since they are wanting to impeach the president again, let me tell you about the special Christmas cards I had printed up the last time they were going to hold impeachment hearings, my cards had a colorful poinsettia motif on the front with gold leaf around the edges, and when you opened them up there was a little elf bent over with his pants down, and on his behind he had two tattoos, one was a tattoo of a peach, and the other was a tattoo of a candy cane, and the caption read “Kiss My Peach Mint Pelosi”, my personal view is that we should dump the president before January the 20th and let Bitin’ begin to heal the nation like Ike did, like Kennedy did, like Johnson did, oh wait, Johnson was a bastard, like Jerry Ford did, like Jimmy Carter did, like Obama did. Joe Bitin’ can bite America’s wound and suck the poison out, Joe is a real man too, not a female who has an alien/reptillian/man-wife, I would like all us Americans to rally around our new healer and stop the bickering, I would like us all to heal Babylon together, but then those words come back into my mind, Jeremiah 51:9 “We would have healed Babylon but she cannot be healed…”. After the regathering is completed, this Daughter of Babylon, the United States of America, is set to be destroyed, I think it is time for you voters who love your government and it’s politicians, to give up playing the mind game that you are so addicted to, this country is set to be utterly destroyed in one day, read Jeremiah 51:6 “Flee from the midst of Babylon, and everyone save his life. Do not be cut off in her iniquity. For this is the time of YHWH’s vengeance…”. I don’t expect any of you to hear my words or the words of your Creator, but there they are anyway…

Jan 13, 2020 Diary entry: Let me make this clear, my participation was minimal, I was a dupe, a patsy, I was only a conduit, others hatched and executed the plan, I knew nothing, I had no foreknowledge of the events that transpired, I was only peripherally involved at the lowest level, my insignificant participation was coerced, I was only a tool that was used by others to build a house of deception, I never dwelt inside that house, I am completely innocent of the egregious charges that have been leveled against me, I shall be vindicated, I shall prevail, I will not allow such a miscarriage of justice to sully my heretofore fine and upstanding record, the record speaks for itself, I will stand or fall on the record, make no mistake, I will fight for what is right until all charges are dropped, I was simply a sheep who chose to follow the wrong shepherd, I only followed in the deception, I did not create the deception nor implement the deception, nor manage the deception, as was stated previously, I was only a dupe, a patsy, that is my plea and I am sticking to it until the stars fall from the heavens, until the birds cease to sing, and until the wind ceases to blow, thank you for listening…

Jan 10, 2021 Diary entry: Oh god, I feel like I got baptized last night in four double martinis and three malt liquors, I feel like my Pentecostal preacher beat the devil out of me with his pulpit, I feel like when it was my turn to handle the snakes they didn’t want to play anymore, I feel like I drank a half dozen Jim Jones cocktails, I feel like I had the bottom bunk at Marshall Applewhite’s Heaven’s Gate compound, and Hale-Bopp was nowhere in sight, my mouth feels like I talked in tongues for five straight hours, I’ve really got to stop worshiping at the altar of Joe’s Uptown Bar and Grill, this religious stuff is gonna kill me…

Jan 7, 2020 Diary entry: When I was a security guard I took my job seriously, I was usually assigned to guard Cushman’s Dime Store and Ladies Apparel, I was in charge at Cushman’s, it was I that ruled, when on duty at Cushman’s I was Mr. Cushman himself, it was my store and I called the shots and did my investigations thoroughly, I was a bit harsh at times, but fair, when I spotted a suspicious looking elderly lady in the medicine aisle and I questioned her, I would interrogate her by the book, “What are you doing here”, “How long have you been here”, “Do you have a job”, “Why aren’t you at your job”, “Are you sick”, “Have you been fired”, “Have you been drinking today”, “Have you had a drink”, “Were you down at the bar”, “How much time did you spend in the bar today”, “What’s your name”, “Do you have some sort of identification on you”, “Are you nervous”, “Why are you nervous”, “Should I let you go free”, “Why do you think I should let you go free”, “If you haven’t done anything to be nervous about, why are you nervous”, “Does my presence make you nervous”, “Are you hiding something”, well, that was my usual interrogation method for greeting customers down at Cushman’s Dime Store and Ladies Apparel, I kept law and order at Cushman’s with an iron determination, when at Cushman’s, I was Mr. Cushman himself…

Dec 22, 2020 Diary entry: Is your life lacking zest and humor, do you almost never laugh, are all the local gringos driving you crazy, is the world getting you down, then leave those loco gringos behind in the dust and ride south, ride south to Paulie Land where humor is a way of life, it’s all we do, Paulie Land is just across the border, you can’t miss us, the majestic Paulie Inn towers above the magnificent and sprawling Paulie Gardens, there is also a little goldfish pond, please come and stay with us, our rooms are clean and comfortable, and there is an anecdote on every pillow, you will sip exotic drinks as you relax and bask in the back yard while our polite and courteous writing staff pampers you with humor, your bill is due and payable at check-in, no checks please, we prefer cash, your carefully regimented day will start at five AM with calisthenics, then breakfast at six, if you’re late, all you get is toast, lunch is precisely at the noon whistle right after late morning calisthenics, supper is optional, lights out at nine o’clock, no exceptions, we’re funny, but we’re not that funny, all of the files and records that are being stored at Paulie’s cousin’s apartment and the dusty offices back at pauliegeesdiaryblog.home.blog@wordpress.com are in the process of being transferred to Paulie Land, please come join us at your earliest convenience, we are an old established and respected firm, well, not yet, but we hope to be soon, please be forewarned, we do not allow outside humor to be brought in off the street, if you have any type of street humor with you, we ask that you leave it in your car out in the parking lot, there are no exceptions to this rule, we have a strict zero tolerance policy regarding humor being brought in off the street, please respect our rules and we will get along fine, we, the management, hope to see you soon…

Dec 19, 2020 Diary entry: I’m going to end this blog where it began, at the beginning of it all, Panda Express, corner booth, day 15,293 of my Murder At The Panda Express investigation into murder, murder most foul, it was a cold and rainy night, darker than usual for this time of year, I called out for Saki, lots of Saki, just then, a tall dark haired oriental lady entered the restaurant, her umbrella dripping, her dress waved like a shipwrecked tramp steamer, this once immaculate pearl of the orient now looked more like the oyster, as I scribbled some obscure notes on a piece of paper, a tall beautiful dark haired oriental lady placed a tray on the table, she bent over and whispered softly in my ear “Foo Key Yoo Paulie”, “Foo Key Yoo”, Foo Key Yoo was the name of the one eared man with the jade ear that I had been tracking, lo, these many long days, weeks, months, and years, steam escaped from the kitchen as a tall pretty dark haired oriental waitress emerged from the cloud carrying a platter, the duck on the platter was dead, just like my murder investigation, I can’t complain though, during this long tedious investigation I have ridden the crests of the sea waves like a skipjack skiff, I have plowed the ocean bottom on my butt like a dredge, I once woke up in the backseat of my car bruised and beaten in the parking lot of an abandoned industrial park outside the city, I had my chopsticks broken twice in the alley behind Panda Express, I uncovered black market squid deals that were carried out by some particularly slimy individuals, I got caught up in dirty business with an oriental man who wore a cape and had a pencil thin mustache, a mouthful of pearls that dripped light, and a cane with a silver dragon head handle on it, I took his dirty money, and I took another beating over what I considered a simple misunderstanding, I called out for another tray of Saki’s, I had thinking to do, lots of thinking, and it would take lots of Saki, my long journey into this Murder At The Panda Express murder case, and the man I hunted, took me all the way to Shing Dong China, Shing Dong was a dirty harbor town deep within the festering bowels of a diseased world where dirty drunken men stumble down darkened alleyways and sing old sea shanties, that is where I met Mr. Kim, Mr. Kim ran the Bird’s Nest Diner, slash, opium den, the finest establishment in all Shing Dong, Mr. Kim was the most powerful and feared man in all Shing Dong Prefecture, Kim had once killed a man and everyone knew it, no one ever spoke of it in anything louder than a whisper, I worked for Kim, I took his dirty money, I ran his smuggling operation until Kim’s boat sunk two hundred miles off the coast of Santa Carmelita, would I never again see Santa Carmelita, would I never again hear it’s soft music in the night air, would I never again taste it’s sweet mezcal, would I never again taste the sour and acerbic tongues of the frustrated senoritas on the plaza, the time I spent working for Mr. Kim was an especially terrifying part of my life, and I was lucky to have survived it, anyway, I thanked the pretty dark haired waitress, downed the last of my Saki, and I left the hot steamy Panda Express in my rearview mirror as I drove back to the office, I had two days to get out of my office before the new tenant moved in, I went to the file cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch that had been filed under C for confusion, then I leaned back in the chair at my desk and poured a drink into a dirty coffee-stained Styrofoam cup, cold broken bones of jagged light stabbed the dark room as they protruded in through the bent rusty venetian blind, an angry neon sign outside the window buzzed and flashed an ominous warning that seemed to suggest my demise, I poured another drink and my mind floated back to when I was an eager young murder investigator who had just taken on his first case, all was well in the world in those days, clues seemed to just fall out of the air, leads were everywhere, I was a hot property, everyone wanted a handsome up and coming murder investigator who knew his business, but one long unending unsuccessful hunt for an elusive one eared man brought my career to an inglorious ending, I am now a broken down old has been who can’t even find his bottle of scotch unless it has been filed properly, there is a rap on the etched glass of the office door, it’s the building owner, and he is here to show the new tenant around, he is a young handsome strapping sort who says he is opening up a new murder investigation business, and his client list is huge, well, I better get going, I never found my elusive one eared man with the jade ear, but I sincerely do hope you all find whatever it is that you are searching for, goodbye…

Dec 9, 2020 Diary entry: Tonight is a big night, I’m going down to our local Saki Hut because it is Happy Hour Free Squid Night, you get a free plate of squid with each three martinis purchased, the lady bartender there is what the ancient sailors referred to as the Pearl of the Orient, I will be sailing tonight just as the brave sailors sailed in years gone past, and as I do, I will be gazing into calm shimmering lagoon-like oriental eyes which will turn into a churning angry sea of contempt when Pearl calls out to the bouncer to remove a loud and obnoxious man who is demanding an unearned plate of squid because he miscounted his martinis, I’ve never been good at math even when not drinking martinis, well, such is the world in which we live, my advice to you all is to try and make do, you don’t have to demand everything that you think you are entitled to, just focus on keeping your little leaky junk boat afloat, the sea will eventually level itself back into place, I guarantee it, anyway, from this great sinking island in the sea, America, I send love and hopes for peace out across the water, shalawam…

Nov 24, 2020 Diary entry: Good day class, today we will be viewing recent news reels, I have a slide show set up for you, now turn your attention to the large screen I have set up in the front of the room, this first slide is of a president, his most trusted advisors, and his willing question askers who are referred to as “the press corps”, now, these people are actors on the screen in which your attention should be focused at this very moment, these are not real people, they were chosen for their roles because they are weak men and women who desire the attention that the big screen provides for them, they desire the limelight in which they can act their parts and be well acclaimed by their audience, and receive the love and admiration they desire more than anything in the world, for those of you who view these slides with a critical eye and a healthy questioning mind, there will be hot buttered popcorn and soft drinks served out in the lobby, for those of you who want to believe that the act in front of you is real, you will get no candy from the candy counter, you can go eat an apple, and you can go eat it somewhere far from here, I can only teach you, I cannot make you learn, now class is dismissed for the day, I hope you can consider the teaching that you have received this day, the world had been given over to the witches and sorcerers and magicians many many long centuries ago, and they have the whole world under their mind control tricks, the world is a lie, believe it or not, those of you who believe that this world you live in is real, you need not show up for class tomorrow, or any other day, I bid you peace in whatever path that your heart leads you on, again, peace…

Nov 17, 2020 Diary entry: I wouldn’t give you one damn dented digital dollar for this devolved demonic dumbass society we live in, I’m out baby, I’m taking my chips and walking away from the table, your watered down whiskey promises sicken me, you have been serving pus-filled pig anus boloney sandwich platters to the deceived masses, and I will no longer eat from your table, I will have an apple instead, your beer tastes like it was brewed and aged inside a covid-diseased skunk’s large intestine, and dispensed through a dirty brown charge hole, I will no longer take part in your unclean offerings, well, I think I have made my point, the dogs are barking to be let in, and the cat is meowing to go out, I send all my love to everybody, wherever it is you find yourself within this lost world, shalawam…

Nov 15, 2020 Diary entry: I am sitting here in my humidity and temperature controlled solarium, drinking frozen concoctions as fast as I can before they melt, the humidity stays between 90 and 95%, while the temperature is a constant 78 degrees, this tropical-like climate is essential for my plant life, but my special frozen Skunk In The Hole cocktails are prone to meltage, I take the good with the bad though, as all things in this world are balanced, and I try to stay on top of the fulcrum, if you want to know the truth of it, I’m sitting here at my cardboard box desk in the cold dank garage, the only plant life I have is my dead dried up snake plant, and I’m not drinking frozen Skunk In The Hole cocktails, I’m drinking cheap vodka from an empty noodle soup can, I would like to tell you about my dead snake, but I’m not opening up that can of worms again, or can of snakes, let us all just agree to call a dead snake plant a dead snake plant, and move on, well, a pretty barefoot lady wearing a colorful flower print sarong is here, and she’s carrying a bamboo platter of delicacies that the sea gave up only this morning, not really, it’s my landlady, she wears those black witch shoes, a gray sweater that looks like a dead sheep that the wolf ate and crapped out after a night of over indulgence, and she’s carrying the usual cold look in her eyes that says she is after the back rent, well I gotta go, I hope that someday we can all meet in that faraway paradise that they talk about, shalawam…