The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
February 21, 2005


Tito's cage has been remarkably clean lately. This means he's either learned to pick the lock or there will be a visit to the vet in my future. I hope it's the former, it would mean a lot less elbow grease expended on my part. Leon called me in hysterics a minute ago. Apparently, some the hanger-on to some starlet whose name escapes me just now was murdered and it means everyone on the internet has my email address. I don't pretend to understand it, but Leon hasn't been this excited since I saw him beat John Woo at horseshoes. I will do what he says. Maybe an email change will do me good as I haven't checked it in a while. Most of the mail is concerned with the size of my endowment and would I be interested in increasing it? Take my silence as my answer.

[signed] Nick

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