Jan 17,2020 Diary entry: Paulie has written previously about his experience going to a spiritualist meeting where we all sat in a circle and this medium lady dealt out tarot cards and spoke to the dead, Paule thought she was half fake but he is willing to see this medium once more, actually she’s about a medium and a half, which is no big deal because Paulie’s ladies always said I seem to whittle them down until they need therapy to regain any little shred of self esteem that they can get, so anyway, what better place to take a date that can talk to the dead than The Floating Fish Bar and Grill, the Floating Fish is usually pretty dead around midweek, anyway, that will be our exotic destination for love, our enchanting love ship will dock at Kim Eel Dung’s fabulous Sand Bar where we will indulge in Oriental cocktails made famous by Kim’s cousin back in Singapore; after this intriguing exotica, we shall enter into our dinghy and paddle over to our awaiting booth of excitement and adventure where we shall indulge our senses in a seafood extravaganza that people of the mainland cannot begin to understand, Paulie shall gaze into dark eyes in which harbor lights glimmer and dance, Paulie will see the reflections of things past, a young Paulie’s life will return from the dead and it will dance as it did so long ago, if this lady can indeed speak to the dead, then we shall regale each other far into the night, far into the outer expanse of what the world calls sanity, sanity and reason be damned, we sail tonight for the seven seas, seven times around the world, we may never return, we shall kiss our families goodbye, we shall leave our possessions at home, and we shall sail at sunup to discover unknown lands that heave and ache for that one perfect love that is only talked about and never seen, I think this could be the perfect match, a semi-dead Paulie and a medium, a match made in heaven, we shall see my dear readers, we shall see, shalom…

Diary entry: Hey everybody, Paulie here, it’s the middle of the night, I couldn’t sleep, I was dreaming, which isn’t usually a big deal, but I had to stop the dream I was having, it was one of those dreams that wake you up in a sweat, you shake it off and go back to sleep, but the dream starts back up and continues on, then you wake up again and the whole thing cycles clear through the night until your brain wants to drop out of your head when the alarm clock goes off, so I am up out of bed at three AM eating a butter sandwich and drinking a soothing warm mug of cocoa with gin in it, say, when did Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble become transvestites, they were always a couple pretty straight stone pounders back in the day, you know, quarry men, not queery men, is this that Mandela Effect I’ve heard so much about, god, either this world is fucked up or I’m fucked up, I’m putting my money on the world, but no matter, I don’t want to ever sleep again, Paulie is gonna stay awake and never sleep, alert in the driver’s seat, loud tunes screaming from the console, coffee steaming out of the cup holder, a French cigarette between my two fingers, sending up smoke signals that say us Indians are attacking at sunup, we are clear headed and we can see the whites of our enemies’ eyes, our quivers are heavy, our bows are bent full, we shall scream at dawn like the angry hawk, well, this is Paulie screaming his love loud to his people, Paulie screams an ear splitting “Shalom my dear loved ones”, oh, and to the rest of you, Paulie screams a nails on the chalkboard “Go to hell”…

Jan 16,2020 Diary entry: When the corn is high and passions flow like a late summer rainstorm, and two people find themselves lost together in the darkness, when the night thunders out it’s warning that a burning hot love could set the world on fire, when two people forget the world, to hell with the inhabitants of the world, it is tonight, it is our night, it will be the night that all the stars in the sky pause to take notice of an extraordinary collision between two opposing forces that know no bounds, two flaming souls will meet and unite in the midst of the corn, we shall leave crop circles in our wake unlike any the world has ever seen, the entire heavens above will observe a moment of darkness in reverence to a love that has never been, and will never be again, this moment in time will be the one that creates a new dimension and ushers in the utopia that has only been dreamt of throughout the millennia, it’s the new day, it’s the first day, it’s the first day of the new eternity of something the world will never recognize, a thing the world will never know, a thing they can never understand, two lost souls finding their place within time and space, their place will forever bookmark the pages of all history, throw out all the books of the ages, there is a new book in town, it is Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary, and we are leaving our circles on the sands of time…

Jan 16, 2020 Diary entry: We have been enjoying a bit of a respite here at Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary from the contentious religious upheavals that have torn us apart so many times over the years, a tenuous cease fire between the various sectarian writer’s blocks seems to be holding, many long hours have been put in holding peace meetings and showing videos on how to love those whom you hate, so far, our Muslim writers have refrained from writing Jesus jokes, our Christian writers have refrained from their usual Allah jokes, our Mormon writers are not making Satanist jokes, and our Wiccans and Satanists no longer make Mormon and Latter Day Saints jokes, our writers are united in a new venture, we are leaving the dark black hole of filth that religion is, and we are moving into a clear new day, we will be unified as one, writing rectum jokes, rectum jokes like the world has never seen, there is a new rectum joke day on the horizon, and Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary’s staff writers are gonna show it to you in your face, it’s a new day, it’s a new joke day, and the day is all about rectum jokes, so sit back and relax, maybe you should pour a drink first and have a smoke, this is gonna be a journey that will turn your mind inside out, your brain will look like an inside out sock, the one you can never find, the one that sticks to the inside of the dryer, afraid to emerge, be that as it may be, we will begin our rectum joke journey with the well known story of The Rectum of The Edmund Fitzgerald, and we shall scream down the muddy snow-less toboggan trail until we arrive at today’s current problem, your wife yelling at you because you got drunk at Auntie Louise’s special open house and you rectum’ed the whole thing, you rectum’ed it up like you were the bartender at a chocolate martini bar shaking Mud Hole Cocktails like you had sat in a bee hive, and they all stung you you know where, there are many rectum jokes sitting conspicuously between these two extremes and we shall delve into each one, we shall show you one by one, how the world is full of rectums and that there is a joke for every one of them, we shall open those dark eyes of yours and we will laugh, we will most certainly laugh my friends, this is Paulie, shouting out in this dark world, shalom…

Jan 16, 2020 Diary entry: Okay, this whole respect thing has been blown all out of proportion, people are continually whining that there isn’t enough respect in the world, and specifically, not enough respect from Paulie, please allow me to say that Paulie can neither give, nor receive respect, that can only be given or taken away by our creator, Paulie says to you people to stop being what you are not, no man owes you respect, and you owe respect to no man, you are looking in this world below for that which only exists above, you cannot bring the rain out of the ground, it falls from the heaven above, I think turkeys are so much smarter than men, when the life giving rain falls from heaven, they look up and receive it with thanksgiving, provided it isn’t during the pagan’s fall feast days, you pagans will gobble down anything that doesn’t move too fast for your lazy worthless pumpkin pie asses you can’t get off the couch, and contrary to what you’ve been taught, candied yams and three jello cream cheese salad is not brain food, your head isn’t too big, your ass is, I remember the words of a wise man long ago, he said “Little Paulie, in the future, man’s downfall will be his fork and spoon” “Always temper your appetite with a wee dram of wisdom”, well, this is Paulie, headed to the kitchen for another wee dram of a martini and a corn dog, remember to put your fork down and put your eyes up, shalom all…

Jan 15, 2020-Diary entry: Hey everybody, it’s Paulie, I have a wonderful gift for you, don’t worry, it’s free, Paulie’s gift to you is his words, please accept them, they will light up your drab dreary life, they will warm you on these cold winter nights, try them on and feel the tailored fit, aren’t they comfy, wear Paulie’s words like the fine garment they are, take a dozen or so home and fry them on the stove with some hash browns, eat them like gourmet candy corn, nibble them lightly or gorge yourself ’til you barf, use Paulie’s words like they were your very own, scream them to the heavens, whisper them to your loved one, drop them on strangers like water balloons, Paulie gives you his words freely and liberally, all he asks is that you share them with others, let’s start a brand new language, haven’t you always thought the English language sucked, what class in school was more bogus than English grammar, we’re throwing out all the rules, we are gonna speak and write how we feel, we will spell words however we want, we will punctuate our words with the ones your language teacher threatened to kick you out of school for using, speak your mind, but please use Paulie’s free gift to get you started on a word voyage of unimaginable beauty, a voyage that will be long, a never ending odyssey that will catapult your world into that new dimension you’ve always dreamt of, let’s all dream together, let’s rock our cradle until we lift off from this earth and we bid the dull witted earthlings goodbye in a language they don’t understand, and we give them a universal hand sign that implies the number of their brain cells that still fire, well, please allow Paulie to give these next words to his loved ones, “Peace, love, and shalom”, oh, and some words for the rest of you, Paulie hasn’t forgot, “Go to hell”…

Jan 15, 2020-Diary entry: Hey everybody, Paulie here, out in the Midwest, feeling the fields, the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye baby, and Paulie’s goin’ into town tonight, gonna get his ears roasted for sure, there won’t be anything left on the cob, Paulie is gonna get cooked and chewed on like the raccoons are running the corn county fair, this will be Paulie’s night, fresh cigarettes, a fresh pack of cards, and a lady who bets on nothing except desire, a white hot burning desire to inflame a young handsome Paulie, will she succeed this night, this darker than usual night in which there is a strange coldness in the air, a cold thing that is odd in an other-worldly sort of way, anyway, Paulie dealt his usual cards to the pretty lady across the table, she accepted them graciously and made a bet, I returned her advance and upped the ante all the way, to see if she would flinch, she didn’t, she called my bluff, I felt weak, maybe I had gone too far, I stared coldly into her two beautiful sparkling orbs of utter delight, her eyes melted my steely facade like a fat guy in the steam room sitting on a butter sandwich, I didn’t know what to do so I called to Joe the bartender to bring another platter of drinks, and don’t spare the ice, I felt like the last cornstalk standing, and I was facing a diesel powered corn picker that was hungry for Paulie’s little niblets, I was like a deer in the tractor’s headlights, the most magnificent fog lights I had ever seen, that cut through my mental haze and left me dazzled, I felt like freshly poured Champagne, all bubbly, would this mesmerizing Midwest lady of the fields come into the farmhouse hot, moist, and burnt from the sun, and see Paulie, and thirst for Paulie’s tall, sweaty, foam-like countenance; Joe set the drinks down on the table and said “That’ll be ten eighty”, I leaned back and said “Put it on my tab Joe”, “I’m in the middle of something”, “Maybe I’ll see you on the other side, and then, maybe I won’t”, then I looked back across the table and I was the deer again, unable to look away from this bright shiny object bearing down on me, this high speed heavenly comet screaming down at me, whose tail lit up the night like nothing I’d ever ever seen before, I offered her my Champagne, she said she wanted something more, something she doesn’t have on the galaxy she’s from, she offered to carry me on her light, back to a place where time doesn’t matter, where time and space are irrelevant, where reason and logic are thrown out like old tin cans and old ideas, she had a new idea, one this world had never known, an idea which we would share, anyway, some people say corn country is a crock of boredom or that it is full of lazy minded corn dogs who only lie on the stoop and bark at the moon, but when the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye and Paulie heads to town, anything can happen, shalom to my brothers and sisters, I send you sweet corn wishes, and to the rest of you, I send you a sour mashed “Go to hell”…

Jan 14, 2020-Diary entry: We have received several complaints and questions about some of Paulie’s off color jokes, well, how do you jazz up a rectum joke anyway, do you want reality, or do you want a rectum joke that sparkles like Elizabeth Taylor’s jewelry box on her eighth honeymoon, there is only so much Paulie can do, Paulie is simply a simple man, don’t ask Paulie to do what he can’t, don’t ask the squid to fly like an eagle, don’t ask the worm to eat the fish, don’t ask the mouse to terrorize the cat, and don’t ask Paulie any more dumb ass questions, Paulie’s next rectum joke is gonna be about you, shalom…

Jan 14, 2020-Diary entry: Parlez vous en code? Dis moi que tu m’aimes dans un sens nos ancetres Jamais su, Paulie desires what the world can never understand, what those on the outside don’t know, Paulie wants what you know, he wants your coded messages of love, he desires words unknown to the common man, he desires love that was coded in the ancient books written before time began, let’s party number nine, find our line, do it one more time, viens avec Paulie, prendre sa main, il d’esire votre entreprise, we shall sing the day away as if the world were our song, we shall sing our song like the springtime birds sing in a language only they understand, in our own special love code that only we can know, only we can hear, a love hidden from the outside world, a deep love hidden within us as if we were the watery sea bed which no one has ever explored, the depth of our love is as deep as the earth itself, it is as the earth, stationary and immovable, built on ancient pillars that were formed before time was formed, our love is old and it is new, our love was past and it is future, we shall fly beyond the place where stars were formed, we shall land in dark places and illuminate them with the brilliance of our combined being, we are two bright blazing suns in one, our wings will never weaken, they will never stop moving, they temper the flames of our fiery passion, that if left unchecked, would devour all things with their consuming tongues of fire, come sail with Paulie on the flaming clouds, the heavens await my dear, grab the smokes and the cooler, we’re off…

Diary entry: Hey, Paulie here, I’m not sure I quite understand all the things in this mixed up world we live in, one thing I could never understand was why cosmetics companies have to test their products on animals, why do they need to put eye makeup and lipstick on a goat anyway, do they compare the beauty of goats to real women, maybe these freaks put the makeup on the boy goats, I don’t put anything past these people during this time we live in, what the hell is “sassooning” anyway, goat language for “I am so intoxicated by your scent, is it new?”, “Let’s have drinks and see where the evening leads”, I don’t trust any of these bastards, I remember words a very wise old man told a young Paulie many years ago, “Little Paulie, your trust will be your downfall in the years to come”, “Trust no man”, “All men wish to shoot you out of the sky with their cannons of deceit”, “Fly high like the wary buzzard, and only drop down to feed on roadside carcasses when you know the way is clear”, “Wicked men travel the roadways seeking that which they may run over with smoke belching chariots of rusted steel”, “They lash slaughtered deer on their hoods for ornamentation, they park in front of taverns and regale others of how they brought down a noble animal with only six slugs as they guzzle beer and shots like they were Hirohito downing shuki’s of Saki after Pearl Harbor”, so forgive Paulie if he hates people you love, the wise old man said, “Your trust will be your downfall”, you can ignore his words, as he didn’t speak to you, he spoke to little Paulie and Paulie is a listener, so listen my loved ones, Paulie’s speeding chariot of love bears down on you, stand still so I can hit you square, I bid you love and shalom, to the rest of you, Paulie says go to the ditch, better yet, go to hell…