Diary entry: Hey everybody, it’s Paulie, I recall wise words from an old Hindu man who had a snake, he said “Little Paulie, beware of the fire that burns hot and has a bottom that is far off”, the old Hindu man hung out in the park, down by where the river forks, he was never too busy to give us kids advice whenever we got into trouble, I don’t know what ever happened to him and his snake but I hope they both are some place cool… Diary entry: Okay, it seems everyone is arguing about honesty these days, some say that since all politicians lie, no one should ever vote, others say that lying is a part of the beast we call the American political system, kinda like stink is simply part of a skunk and we shouldn’t worry ourselves with minor details, please allow Paulie to sort this thing out for all of you, when you can’t trust the dealer, or if he smells like a skunk, you should stay out of his card game, I hope this clears up some of the confusion for you, well, they say wisdom is meant to be passed on to the wise, the stupid will never understand, this is Paulie out here on the Avenue wishing love and shalom to the family who are wise beyond their time, to the stupid of you, Paulie says go to hell…

Diary entry: This is Lame Duck CEO (By choice) of “Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary”, Paulie, with several hand written letters from readers, this first one is from a Mr., lets see here, yeah okay, Mr. JesusJacker666, Mr. Jacker writes “Dear Paulie, my wife bakes jacked up Jesus cookies with the works, because you gotta have works to get to heaven”, alright, our second letter is from a Mr. Wilfred Blount, Mr. Blount writes “Dear Paulie, I come from a black family who used to worship Black Jesus, Mother would bake chocolate Jesus cookies for special occasions, to this day, I still enjoy dunking a chocolate Jesus cookie in my coffee, no cream of course”, this next letter is from Mrs. Edna Clear our dear next door neighbor, “Paulie, when are you going to pay for my two broken windows, your golf balls are in your gutter”, how did that one get in here, well, that about wraps up letter time, this is your Lame Duck CEO of “Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary” (By choice), Paulie, saying keep the faith I guess, shalom… Diary entry: This is a short note from Paulie, I would like to say that this “Jesus cookie” thing is getting all out of control, we have become inundated with packages containing funny smelling Jesus cookies and brownies, most of the parcels have no return address and some have letters pasted on that look like they were cut out of newspapers, Paulie pleads with his readers, “Please stop”, we are in the process of building an impenetrable wall around our younger, more impetuous writers who refuse to stay within the borders of our newly implemented guidelines, “Do’s and Don’ts for Proper Diary Entries”, the border is porous, and unacceptable “Diary” entries continue to leak through, we vow that the money will come through to build a wall around all those who engage in unseemly and non mainstream writing, we are not in the business of censorship but when thought becomes too free, it must die, this Is Paulie here with a bold promise, our heavy boot will step down and we will crush unacceptable “Diary” entries before they can offend decent people who don’t like being offended, foreign ideas, phrases , and stories will no more be allowed to immigrate into a clean pure world to soil the status quo, Paulie vows this day that he will clean this mess up before he steps down from office at the end of this year, you have my solid promise, well, they are laying out a feed in the break room, beer, beans, baloney, and all the uncensored stories you can imagine, so as Paulie stirs his first martini and gets ready to stir the party, please allow me to say for all of us here, peace, love, and shalom to all whom we call family, the rest of you, well, go to hell…

Diary entry: Back in school Paulie had a column in his school newspaper, an advice column in which he gave nuggets of advice away freely to those who really needed it, Paulie used the pen name “Svengali Adviser” and the Svengali built up a great and towering column that reached into the very sky, a towering column that was built from small ideas and bits of wisdom that the Svengali had heard over the years from friends, strangers on the street, and the guy who hung out by the dumpster behind the liquor store, all was going wonderfully, Paulie the Svengali was giving out advice to everyone, all the people were coming to the Svengali for help with the myriads of problems they were suffering with, then the Svengali Adviser made a crucial mistake, he gave the school principal some advice that he hadn’t asked for, the particular advice was given in the form of a poem, like a poetic ode thing, suffice it to say, Paulie was poetically asked to hop the first fast moving conveyance out of the Farmington Community School District and never return, that school principal sure could use imagery, Paulie still imagines the things he said some nights when it is very dark out and the wind howls like old Mrs. Crotzman in history class after she returns from using the copy machine to find her pupils in an uproar, yeah, Paulie the Svengali Adviser remembers the good days, the sweet smelling days when the whole school wanted a whiff of Paulie, and he gave it to them generously…

Diary entry: Paulie the murder investigator is a fisherman, Paulie will cast his line and he will snag this bottom sucker who thinks he can suck the life out of innocent victims, yes, Paulie will skin his catch right down to his fish nuggets, this bottom sucker will fry in the oil of Paulie’s hot vengeance, then he will be dipped in a special sauce called retribution, then Paulie the monster shark of the deep will open his great jaws and devour his weakened prey until nothing remains but a fading warm spot in the cold ocean waters…

Diary entry: My fellow readers, please allow me to read a prepared statement, I Paulie will not run for a second term as CEO of Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary, I will not seek, nor will I accept, the nomination to run for a second term as your CEO of Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary, my decision has been made and it will stand, number two, I will not hand over the tapes, they were made during high level meetings of my writing staff and they are my own personal property, they belong to me and me alone, this whole “Vodka Gate” fiasco is an overdone witch hunt, when the witch has been roasted in the fire this long, there is nothing left on the spit, let us douse the conflagration and move on with the business of Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary, number three, I never had sex with that Ukrainian girl, the little Ukrainian girl that little Paulie once knew, it was long ago during a very cold period, it was during the Cold War, our only desire was to thaw the world a bit from our little burned out maintenance shed down the railroad track by the abandoned trestle, number four, I Paulie had no foreknowledge of the fact the little Ukrainian girl had a father who was high up in Ukrainian politics, no deals were ever made, the phone call between Paulie and the cute little Ukrainian girl’s father has been blown all out of proportion, there was no quid pro quo between either Paulie and the cute little Ukrainian girl nor her influential father, I will now repeat my opening statement, I will not seek, nor will I accept, my writers’ nomination for the office of CEO of Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary, my most heartfelt wish is that all Americans can put recent events behind us and focus on the future of Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary, that is all, I will take no questions, thank you for your time…

Diary entry: The night was dark, darker than usual, very dark, a dog was barking, barking out some dark and mysterious warning to the world, what sort of devious stew had we become embroiled in, was there some heavenly ladle somewhere that would come out of the sky and scoop us out of this foul mess, or would we simply be once-crunchy croutons meeting a hot soggy fate in which we dissolve into a stinking morass of mixed things, things we believed were good from childhood, but have since come to recognize as our undoing, we chose this foul smelling stew that the world offered us and now we are steeping within a boiling cauldron of confusion and indecision that intends on destroying us, we did not choose well my friends, we did not choose well, well, this is Paulie and all the staff of “Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary”, hoping you had a wonderful Thanksgiving, we love those whom we love, we wish you love, happiness, and shalom, to the rest of you, we don’t really need to say it but we will, go to hell…

Diary entry: TODO EL MUNDO ESTA LLENO DE CABEZAS CARAJO!?!! Oh God it’s been a day, is everybody in this stinkin’ town trying to be Head Shithead, it was as if the mayoral race was in full swing and the whole town was running for the office of Mayor Mc Moron, where do these people come from, it’s like a flood of lame lemmings on migration out of the county sanitarium, they’re everywhere, well, we knew the day of the firestorm was coming but nobody ever said that the fire from heaven was gonna be flaming assholes… Diary entry: Hey everybody, Paulie here, feeling a bit more calmed down after a smoke and a few martinis, please don’t be confused, Paulie really does love people but it seems to be some kind of misdirected, foolish, confounded love, like one of those old black and white movies where the monster loves the girl but he ends up squashing her when she says she only loves him as a friend, you know what I’m saying, anyway, where was I, oh yeah, Paulie has a joke for you, How did the over-agreeable French piggie piss off the cab driver? He kept saying oui, oui, oui, all the way home! Well, please allow Paulie to take this moment to wish peace, love, and shalom to all those he loves, to the rest of you, Paulie really doesn’t have to say it but he will, go to hell…

Diary entry: Hey, Paulie here, it’s like this, we are all like those little wind up puppet toys that are set down on the floor and they bang the drum or walk and flip, the world winds us up and we automatically do our routine, whether you were wound up by your parents, your public school education, your church, or the world in general, you are simply mechanical puppets banging the drum or walking along doing back flips in the big wind-up mechanical puppet parade, well, Paulie was wound up too, many times, Paulie did his dance, he walked and back flipped, but Paulie’s spring was not as flexible as the others, no, his spring broke and Paulie is no longer a part of the big puppet parade, Paulie is out now and happier than ever, this is Paulie, out, shalom…

Diary entry: It really wasn’t me! I am just a puppet! Blame my puppet masters! It is they who direct my thoughts, my actions, I’m not really me, I’m really them, please believe me, I have no choice!… We here at “Paulie Gee’s Realtime Diary” want the blame put into the lap of those who conceived this charade, it is the puppeteer who is responsible for the puppet show, not me, I am only a player in this puppet extravaganza, now excuse me, the puppet wants a martini backstage with the female puppet lead star… Diary entry: Look, when the puppeteer’s wife is hounding him again about having the in-laws over, this time for a long weekend, when the puppeteer is pissed, the dancing puppets are about to have a few strings cut, yeah, it is the simple puppets who suffer the wrath of the puppet master, puppet Paulie has some advice for all puppets everywhere, dance while you have the strings because tomorrow our master will attack with his wife’s big dressmaker’s shears and that is when we all fall down, this is Paulie here with all the staff, wishing the best of everything for you all, you know who you are, those who love and are loved, the rest of you, go to hell… Diary entry: Special addendum “Diary” entry, You all better respect your puppeteer, he has large cutting devices and he will cut your strings on the slightest whim, he doesn’t need you, you need him…

Diary entry: Paulie remembers the big trial of 1961, a crime that could not be tolerated was committed in the neighborhood and there were several suspects, the crime, mud balls, mud balls where they shouldn’t have been, where they would not be tolerated, we called on one of our best friends from down the block, the “Attorney”, the “Attorney” was always available to represent any one of us who got into trouble back then, he never won any of our cases with our parents but we all felt more secure just knowing the “Attorney” was close by to argue our case, anyway, the big trial, we called in the “Attorney” to plead on the side of sanity, the neighborhood was in an uproar and the world looked as though it was falling apart, we leaned heavily on the “Attorney” in those times but once again, he lost the case, many men fell during those ugly days so long ago, some never fully recovered but we all appreciated the presence of the “Attorney”, you know, I think it may be true, when you’re in a sinking boat and you know you’re gonna die, you feel better if there is some one there to die with you… yeah, the kid we called the “Attorney”, he carried a briefcase at all times, we figured he kept legal papers in it like precedent law, previous legal findings, court rulings, well, one of the guys got a look inside his briefcase once and all that was in it was bubble gum wrappers and pieces of his mom’s lamp that had been broken during an especially intense sleepover that got blamed on his visiting cousin, the “Attorney” claimed he was just keeping it as evidence, but his poor cousin had already been found guilty and sentenced, oh well, we all loved the “Attorney”…