The Adventures Of Dickman
, opposite Matthew McConaughey and Lupita Nyong'o. The first movie is a success, and our hero's schedule is swamped by interviews, promotional work, and other projects. We're talking 6 a.m. to 3 a.m., every day of the week, and squeezing in naps where he can. Every waking second, people are telling him how awesome he is because 1) he's a celebrity, and 2) he is a source of money for everyone who's invested in his dick-carving talents.
Before long, he starts developing an inflated ego. If he has any tendencies toward narcissism at all (which he has), chances are it'll evolve into full-blown megalomania. Oh, but he keeps it all in check -- he's the nicest guy in the world in public. You would happily have a beer or 16 with Pauli; he's an awesome dude. That's the persona he's been trained to expose in public. It's what feeds the machine.
Especially after beer #15 and banana bacon sandwich #27.
But, celebrity-induced "I'm the hottest shit" syndrome is like any other psychological condition -- if it goes unchecked for too long, which it will unless your career comes crashing down or your money well dries up, it's easy to start letting every stupid thought make its way out of your stupid mouth. It will happen because you're so used to having no one to step in and tell you that you're being a moron, and you legitimately think your dipshit opinions are important and correct. And that's when you find yourself patronizing poor people about food stamps.
That's when the "Marlon Brando in Apocalypse: Now phase kicks in, and Pauli starts turning up for Dickman VIII: The Dickening with an entourage of skateboarding llamas, weighing 400 pounds, insisting on writing his own dialogue, and wearing the muumuu he stole from Steven Seagal, instead of the iconic Dickman garb.
At some point, some equally powerful player will say "enough" and borderline blacklist Pauli, but he won't even notice -- he's far too busy living in a bubble of crazy he has constructed over the years. He'll sink deeper and deeper in his mansion, Howard Hughes-ing his last remaining years until he inevitably perishes for being a fucking idiot who eats too much/uses too much "medication"/exercises too little.
So, yeah. If there's anything to take away from this, it's that I would probably be the best celebrity ever. So come, friends, give me money and fame. I promise to return your trust with gifts of chimpanzees and glorious ranting.
Pauli is on Facebook, Twitter, and the cover of the magazine.
For more from Pauli, check out 5 Real Vehicles That Only Fictional Superheroes Should Drive and 5 Ways To Abuse Your Body To Greatness (That We Tested).
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