The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
April 13, 2005

Middle C

They say "stainless steel" Diary, but the phrase holds about as much water as a strainless steel colander. I didn't choose the cutlery. That was one of my once-wives. I didn't even buy it. I believe the techincal crew on Prince of Tides did. Yet I am left to deal with strange orange streaks on all of the steak knives. Manolo is at a loss, but he doesn't really have a degree in metallurgy, despite what his internet diploma might read. There is a curious mirrored pattern to the stains. Maybe that shrink who lives up Mulholland could use them with his patients. Add it to the list, Diary. I'm sorry if I seem distracted today, the piano tuner has taken longer than usual so I'm thinking in pentatonics.