The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
March 10, 2005

Tax Time

My accountant has set up shop in the dining room, building a house of cards from fading receipts, single-digit residual checks, and a heaping helping of what she calls "entertainment accounting." Don't get excited, Diary, it's more the latter than the former. Anyway, my accountant can be less subtle than that adolescent "poverty sucks" poster some wit at Disney had up during the Down and Out shoot, and almost as tasteless when it comes to jokes. She curses like a sailor. I told Scotty this once and to this day, he swears he now says someone curses like an accountant. If she's in a bad mood, it's because she is bracing for Manolo's inevitable requests to "write off his band expenses." Are not we all, Diary?