The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
March 6, 2005

Fat Man

J. Bobby is here just now so I have only a stitch in time to share, Diary. I'm finally getting around to freshening the old wardrobe. J. is the finest tailor west of the Colorado river and his parents named him after the father of the atomic bomb to boot. For this reason alone, I leave decisions about breaks and strides to him. J. is an amature historian and he kept me in stitches over stories about how Lyndon Johnson would order his clothing from the Haggar Pants company. Mary Ellen is planning a trip to New York for the weekend. I admit, I'm ready to bolt for the east coast. I tried to think of a bunch of sewing puns for this entry but it didn't get too far did it? I blame the chalk dust.