The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
March 14, 2005

No. 33

The afternooon was wide open Diary, the only thing on the slate was a phone interview for Time-Out London. I admit only to you that I nearly found myself bored. Just when I thought I would have to double the bike regiment to occupy my time, Fortune's Wheel spun. The Ishii kids were shooting hoops in their driveway. They were startled at first, but soon we were in a heated game of H-O-R-S-E. The older one has a pretty good mid-range jumper. Reminds me of a young Terry Dehere. If he can put on a few inches here, he may just make the old man proud. The boys thought they had me beat on my fourth letter. But I pulled out the secret weapon; hookshot from the top of the drivearound. My victory lap might have been sweeter had the little one not been crying. Perhaps my celebration scared him. Don't get caught watching the paint dry Diary. It dries lazily.