Dear Diary,

Last night Paul Gilbert appeared in my dream. He floated down from the sky, accompanied by a couple of angels holding PGMs. Each comes in different colours. I wanted to wrap my hands around neck of the angel holding a PGM401 so that I can have her guitar. I am truly sorry Paul, I will not ever have sinful thoughts again. Anyway, Paul himself held his trusted six string weapon of choice, the Fireman. Rays of light shone upon him the whole time he appeared in flesh. For a moment there, I was scared. I almost peed my pants. But I felt like a prophet, for now I know how all the prophets before me felt. He proceeded to pass me his latest instructional DVD entitled, “Silence Followed By A Deafening Roar Guitar Instructional DVD And Shred Annex.” Then he said to me,

“Slowiehands. Even though your nickname is totally unoriginal, lame and is a play on Eric Clapton’s Slowhand, I will forgive you. Just cause you’re the only one fan who goes to youtube.com everyday without fail, type in Paul Gilbert in the search engine, and proceed to click “Newest” every. fucking. day. You’re a fucking stalker, do you know that?

All that aside, I have realized that you haven’t been writing a tribute post to me in a long time. Now now, that is very sinful, my son. I hope you will realize your sinful ways and repent if you want to ever step foot on the garden of Gilbertdom. Don’t you know? Every Gilbertians will be given all my CDs and DVDs. And they’re free, you cheap fuck. I know you’re thinking if you have to pay for them, you immoral Gilbertian.

That is all I have to say, young one. Go out there and spread Gilbertology. Let hell rain a firestorm upon those who dare blaspheme against me. And force them to sit in your car and listen to Viking Kong at least 6 times. This DVD is a gift for you. A revelation, you may say. Now go, my son. Go~~~~~”

Then he floated back up to the clouds, I think I saw Jimi there getting ready to shine Paul’s shoes. Damn, too bad he died young, I wonder how long he’s been shining Paul’s shoes. Poor soul. Before I wake up, I still remember vague instances of me kneeling down, flailing my arms freely in the air while screaming “All hail Gilbert!” over and over again. It’s pretty gay but hey, what is a man to do when he encounters a godly presence? In order to show that I know more about Paul than the other Gilbertians, I will post a video of him dropping the F-bomb which he rarely does, on my blog.