The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
April 29, 2005

Raquet

Well I came home and my dijaradu was in the corner of the oak room and filled to the lip with flowers. Who do you think I can blame? Manolo? Constance? If you said "me" you are correct. I played doubles today at the club. Scotty and I wiped up as my ceiling serve was on point for once. Scotty was a graceful winner as always, he referred our opponents to the women's locker room after the victory. The remark fogged up their goggles something fierce. The bad noise came back to haunt me almost immediately. They were out of Vitamin Water at the concession stand. It didn't matter anyhow because I forgot my billfold in the Rover. The lesson as always Diary; make sure you have change in the pocket before you flag the banana man. Carry the zero, Diary.