Diary entry: Hey everybody, Paulie here, wanting to give a little shout out to all you people who work flipping, packaging, and selling hamburgers, and the many mundane tasks that go along with it, Paulie once worked in a hamburger joint also, and he knows how demanding the public can be at times, one day a man came to my counter wanting a refund on his burger because it didn’t look like the one on television, I told him I wasn’t authorized to refund his money for that particular reason, but if it looked like our fry man Sammy spit on it, I was authorized to give him a refund, or if it looked like our french fry girl blew boogers on it, I was authorized to give a refund, or if our drink kid took a bite out of it, I could give him a refund, but I did not have authorization to refund his money because it looked different than the one on television, so I gave him a two page form to fill out, and the address of our home office, and wished him a good rest of his day and told him to come back, I could see as he crossed the parking lot towards his car, he turned and gave me the finger, the only advice Paulie has for hamburger workers, I think, is, work with your customers to the best of your ability and to the fullest extent to which you are authorized, shalom…

Diary entry: Hello, it’s Paulie again, here, take one of my business cards, it says “If you read Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary and you don’t laugh, you’re dead”, and that is not a threat, it’s a solid promise, so get up off your grim deadpan ass , come on over here and laugh, do it now, “Do it!”, “Do it now!”, we have strong smoke, strong drink, and strong jokes; every night customers get thrown out for overindulging, they laugh heartily as they are thrown out into the street because of their uncontrolled raucous giggling, join us as we chug down humor like it was the last punchline in the championship heavyweight title bout, and we become so punchline drunk that we belch and barf out belly laughs until we are sick of the whole world, except for the continual running gags that no one but us get, the world’s jokes are not for the fainthearted or the faint of mind, strong jokes are only for the strong, so put on your fleece exercise outfit and hit the gym, your funny bone is out of shape, strengthen that humor bone, get it in condition like it was meant to be, and join us for marathon jokes that never run out, we hope to see you here soon…

Diary entry: Hey, it’s Paulie again, the world is changing my friend, changing hard, and the world is trying to warn us, the woolly worms on the railroad track this year were wearing raccoon coats, the caribou on their yearly migration were wearing cross country skis, and the geese, the geese have been flying extremely low in the sky this year, they have been honking extremely loud, in a honking cacophony of garbled words and phrases, in some confused and scrambled code like the code you and your friend used when you passed notes to each other back in school, it seems the world is crying out a nervous staccato exhortation about an invisible approaching thing, or maybe it is simply something else, were the woolly worms simply making a fashion statement, were the caribou simply trying something new, and was Paulie confusing the geese code with the one that me and my friend used when we plotted our many innocent and childlike schemes, what exactly can we be sure of these days, or can we be sure of nothing, well, as Paulie keeps his ear to the ground and his eye to the sky, this is Paulie out here, saying there is only one sure thing in this detached, twisted and crooked world, Paulie’s love for you is straight and true, shalom…

Diary entry: From my vantage point I looked down at a patchwork maze of rooftops that shielded the city down below, most were terra cotta tile, some were sheet metal, and others wood, my nest was high, I nested among the stars, two young dark haired girls, they could have been twins, sisters, one sister’s face shone like the bright Morning Star, the other, like the dazzling Venus of the evening; from the great wide bird’s nest, the view was intense, the sun and the moon could be seen below, running their respective circuits around the earth, like two relay runners in a marathon in which they were in no hurry to finish, Paulie pondered the myriads of chimneys that protruded from the rooftops, they smoked in different ways, some smoked like that elegant lady in the old movies who always wore a silk robe and had marabou slippers on her feet, holding a cigarette demurely in a long slender holder, she would exhale a thin stream of smoke from puckered lips that expanded into a cloud which made it hard to see, fogged your senses until you were lost, a cloud in which all your reason and will faded away into some gut wrenching need to please, then some of the chimneys smoked like the old man at the pool hall, smoke came from everywhere, thick unruly cigar smoke seemed to belch from every crevice in his ancient weathered face, and some chimneys were devoid of smoke altogether, they stood cold and empty in a repulsive nudeness like your dry brittle Christmas tree after Christmas when it has been stripped, and it’s fine colorful raiment has been packed away in musty cardboard boxes in the attic; lifeless, dead, cold chimneys that bespeak the fate of those living amongst them, Venus of the Morning mixed martinis while the Shining Evening Star gazed through the night, all was quiet far away in our stick nest above the world, all was good, it was all like it should be, Paulie was called “The Great One” in those days, but days don’t seem to last as they should, eras end and new eras begin, when the Desoto runs out of gas in the desert, the trip is over, leaning on the starter will get you nowhere, it’s time to face facts, you’re done, please allow Paulie to cite the words he heard long ago from a wise man, “Every wise man today was an idiot yesterday”, “Don’t look at yesterday’s egg, look at today’s chicken”, Paulie wishes love and shalom to all of yesterday’s great ones who now walk the earth instead of flying above it, do not despair, the cake may be gone but there are still a few crackers left in the cupboard…

Diary entry: Hey everybody, it’s Paulie here, I’ve been watching “Jeopardy” again for some reason, actually, the TV was on as I was in the kitchen cutting copious amounts of fat off of a store bought chicken , I think this chicken was fed too much beer and barbecued ribs with cherry cream cheese dessert, anyway, Paulie received quite a shock this morning when he awoke from his usual fitful slumber, he found his last case of Bordeaux in the root cellar, his last good friend in the world, was this the end of all things as we are constantly being told, we knew the end was near but this may be it, this may be the final sign of Paulie’s end time nightmare when he wakes up in a cold sweat with pillow feathers in his hair, a cold steel sensation in his gut, and the grueling thought he may have to start drinking a modest huckleberry wine from the drums out in the aging shed, anyway, back to “Jeopardy”, the question, or answer, whatever, was something about the Death Head Hawk Moth, his usual pursuits in life, his likes and dislikes, who the hell cares, well, the thing is, Paulie was at one time referred to as the Great Death Head Hawk Moth who flew whenever and wherever he wished, no one could seek out and capture Paulie, no, Paulie did the capturing in those days, Paulie, the great and powerful Death Head Hawk Moth sought out his weak victims, the pretty little silkworms were what Paulie desired, and they were his for the choosing, Paulie chose them as the high flying buzzard chooses which wet soupy carcass by the roadside he will devour next, Paulie chose his delectable little silkworm lovelies like a potato farmer chooses his best tubers for Sunday dinner, a young Hawk Moth Paulie picked and chose his way through life and he did things his way and only his way, his way was the only way, and the world around him knew it, Hawk Moth Paulie flew high and wide, and his nest stretched across the sky and it rolled like thunder across the plains, beckoning pretty little prey larvae everywhere “Come inside my little darlings”, “My warm and inviting nest awaits your company”, yeah, the days were better back then, that’s the way I remember it anyway, well, shalom my people, I wish you good things always, my good wishes belong to you, again, shalom…

Diary entry: I remember the Farmington of old, the Farmington of my youth was like a story out of Dickens, we were shiny black ravens who flocked among the chimney smoke lanes, our hearts fluttered with wings of anticipation for when that jolly man would appear, the half drunken man who drove the coal lorry, we were always eager to see his arrival, as it meant there would be fresh coal for the furnace, perchance the dream that we may sleep warm once again, softly nestled in our flannel night clothes, and the world was good, the world would be a cozy place once more, and cold reality would be left on the wintry doorstep like a bad dog that had drug home another skunk, I remember Farmington, the Farmington of my youth, and I smile sadly and pour out a large martini this time to toast those bygone days, those bygone memories, and those bygone dreams, it all seems so long ago and far away, but on these nights, I catch glimpses of young blackbirds lined up on the telephone wires chatting of their futures, their hopes, their big dreams for the future, I’m here now in the future, it isn’t what I had thought it would be, so long ago, in that sooty Dickens novel of my young life, shalom to all the sooty young blackbirds who are now older and gray, who now roost on the ground, Paulie is with you always…

Diary entry: Paulie has written previously about the perils facing us in this life, and how we must always keep a watchful eye out, keep our wits, keep our heads while those around us are losing their minds, to wit, never give a young boy a gun and teach him how to use it, the power may go to his head, he may becomes drunk with thoughts of power, control, and lust in his head, he may scream at Grandma to bring that pie to him, and he wants a goddamned full glass of milk this time or there will be hell to pay, and he shoots out a window just to make his point, I have seen it my friends, and I want you to see it, I’ve known it my friends and I want you to know it, I’ve lived it and I don’t want you to live it as I have lived it, there is something better for you if you only seek it out and hear and heed Paulie’s warning, I’ve been there, I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it, I was there, and this is my story, this is my lighthouse cry that goes out across the churning sea, slow down and look around, you are heading toward rocky shoals, the jagged jaws of a reef whose hunger burns within it as the shark’s belly grumbles and writhes in agony for the first moving thing that creates a wake in the dingy oily sea water on this so very dark night so long ago; we were several miles off the coast, the wind had blown us off course, we were weak from hunger, the storm had blown our last picnic lunch overboard, yeah, we were in it my friends, a series of black weather patterns had rained down their fury upon us, taunting us with their power, like that one fat kid back in the neighborhood taunted you when he took your candy away from you, this weather was the mean fat kid who you swore you’d kill one day, but even today, he is much too strong, his wind blows out curse words from his gut, “Hey you little bastards, give me your candy, then I’ll kick your asses and throw you upon desolate beaches where the sun and surf will rot you like last year’s kelp”, yeah, we were in it my dear reader, we were in it, this much too difficult story will be related in the future, as it is becoming difficult to go on, Paulie’s courage seems to be hung up like a spiked fish on the rusty barbed coastline, shalom all…

Diary entry: Hey, it’s Paulie, I suppose I should say something about the new year since everyone will be celebrating the fake New Year’s Day on the fake Roman calendar that the whole world follows, Paulie knows the year doesn’t begin in the winter, he knows the exact spring day the true Rosh Hashannah falls on and he’s not telling anyone, when Paulie is given a bright shiny apple, he keeps it safely hidden inside his backpack as he walks by the herd of pigs because they will devour a beautiful apple like it was a pile of shit, Paulie only removes his apple when he gets to the woods and finds a stump to sit on, and as Paulie eats his apple, he is quite willing to share with any approaching woodland animal who recognizes the beauty of a beautiful thing, besides, people don’t give a shit why they even need to know the first day of the year, let them wallow in blissful ignorance, I won’t wake them from their dream, anyway, I guess maybe I should make a fake New Year’s resolution on this fake New Year’s Eve, like not trying so hard to please everyone in that obsessive way I have to appease my need to make friends that will love me, now most people say I hate people but that’s not true, I really do love them but it is a sick, twisted, convoluted type of love like that monster in the movies that loves the girl but he ends up squashing her when she tells him she only loves him as a friend, sometimes there is a hazy line between hatred and love, the two become mixed together into a crazy amalgamation, a stew if you will, of the need to please as you spit out all the resentment and bile that has built up over the years, it’s like barfing up your steak and baked potato dinner on passersby, it’s really a beautiful thing of love but it just isn’t pure anymore, it has become a bit tainted but you still want them to have it, anyway, my New Year’s resolution is to stop trying to please every asshole on the street, no more Mr. Nice Guy who greets everyone with a cheery “Good day” and a smile, I’ve always been a “people person” really, it’s just that most don’t recognize it, so if you begin to notice that Paulie doesn’t seem like his usual soft and huggable self in the days to come, please know that his love has gone soft for the world, but his love stands like the strongest steel for those whom he embraces with arms of iron, and he will never let go, shalom my loved ones, shalom, and I’ll see you on our real New Year’s Day…

Diary entry; Hey, I’m here at Joe’s Uptown Bar and Grill again, talking to Joe and watching Andy of May Berry on the TV over the bar, Andy and Barney are reminiscing about old high school days and past girl friends, Joe is telling me about the Ham Coming Festival out in Dubuque, Iowa where a pork brining prize is given out and they elect a county Pig Queen that reigns until the fall festival when the County Corn Grower’s Cooperative elects the new Corn Licker Queen who will reign until these people get some brains, anyway, Barney reminded Andy about an old high school sweetheart, Josie May Dubois, who had been the Ham Coming Queen and Andy’s girlfriend before he met Barney and they became close friends, anyway, Joe was talking while I was concentrating on the TV show and he was saying something about this Josie May Dubois winning a prize for the juiciest pair of brined hams, and that how out in Iowa they never even finish high school because the less you know in Iowa, the better, but maybe wherever you are in this part of the country, the more you know, the more it hurts, so for me, I just watch TV and talk to Joe and sort out what can be sorted, and the rest simply gets discarded, it’s easier that way, well, I hear the radio in the kitchen saying something about the city raising it’s street porking rates again, god, it just never ends, anyway, this is Paulie, ordering another martini, swearing under his breath, counting his meager blessings, wondering if this shit will ever end, and calling out a hearty shalom to the people he loves to love, to the rest of you, I wanted to say something but I forget, oh, I remember, go to hell…

Diary entry: Hey everybody, just been sitting here talking to Joe the bartender about that old TV Western “Have Gun Will Travel”, it’s about a paid gunfighter who works for hire known as Paladin, the show is the typical black and white Freemasonic symbolism, an opposing forces type of thing, Paladin starts out in a swank San Francisco hotel wearing white clothes and white hat and he’s very calm and docile, this is the limp dick Paladin, Paladin just sips brandy and sweet talks with other boarders, then he gets a wire that offers him money from some one who is in a jam because of bad people, that’s when Paladin begins twitching and changes into black clothes and black hat, he now becomes the hard angry dick Paladin, morphing from smooth slick dick to rough dry dick, white hat: calm and docile limp dick, only looking to snuggle, black hat: angry hard dick out to tangle to the death, limp dick Paladin starts out in a soft, warm, and cushy environment, then he changes into hard dick Paladin out in the hard, cold, uncomfortable wild country, white hatted soft dick Paladin sits on a soft velveteen cushion in the hotel sipping brandy delicately from fine crystal ware then black hatted hard dick Paladin finds himself sitting on a hard rock in unfriendly Indian territory chugging water from a dirty canteen that was filled from a mud hole, it’s all about the balance between opposing forces, Yin and Yang, Christ and Antichrist, light and dark, good and evil, soft and hard dick, the head of a frightened titmouse and the head of a screaming eagle, anyway, that seems to be the consensus here at Joe’s Uptown Bar and Grill tonight, soft dick Paladin gets an offer of money and he turns into hard dick Paladin and hops up on the horse instantly, the gist of the thing is the juxtaposition between warm putty dick white hat Paladin and cold iron dick black hat Paladin, as stated, the TV show is all about the balance between opposing forces, black and white, soft and hard, calm and angry, and tamed down and wild like a tiger let loose from the cage, after hard dick Paladin thrashes his prey, spewing out his pent up bile, he reverts back to soft dick Paladin and he only wishes to snuggle once more, well, there is much more to discuss but Joe’s bringing Happy Hour drinks and popcorn, a well balanced repast that we will indulge in as long as we stay balanced on our stools, well, we’ll continue this thing later; as Paulie looks at his scales, he sees they are way out of balance, his heavy love for his people outweighs his love for this world, shalom everybody, and to the rest of the world, please allow Paulie to say once more, go to hell…