The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
May 22, 2005

Invisible Hand

Diary, Manolo has been having a devil of a time finding the odd-sized batteries that go into my dictaphone. He also claims the shape of the microphone is obscene but usually he uses that word to mean boring. If that's what he meant he's right but my hand can't keep up with my mind so I use it. Sure, make a joke, Diary, no one will hear. The accountant and my financial advisor Jeff stopped by this morning. He claimed my adhesives investments are sound but needed to be bolstered by more diversity. I made a joke about the horses being all different colors but it fell flat. After that I was resigned to sit quietly, nod on occasion and sign whatever they put before me. But in my mind I was playing albums for Tito. I had that "Men at Work" song in my head and that only made it worse. Tonight, dinner with Neil. I'll see how long I can keep him going on the joke that I want to buy his train business from him.