The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
September 18, 2004


This morning I toured the grounds. It's a habit I've been into. I found a few soda cans deposited by Ishii's kids. I know it's not him, because he could get them into the pool with that arm of his. I didn't throw them back across the canyon. I also found a bundle of mail from a few weeks back behind the barn. It's surprising how you don't miss Time magazine until you know you missed it. That might apply to other things in life. Anyway, I was amazed at how thick it was with all the ads. Manolo's pulled the ads out ahead of time for years. Well, for everything except Macrobiotic Today--the ads are more valuable than the articles. And quite difficult to tell apart. I reclined by the pool and polished off the Time. I think that's a story by David Foster Wallace, but I'm not sure. Until tomorrow, Diary. Sammy will be in town so lock up your daughter's actor friends.

[signed] Nick

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