From the awesome Nick Nolte Diary:
[on templates]And it only gets better from there. What would it be like if everyone had the discipline to post only enough to fill this text box?
August 14, 2004, First Entry
Well, Diary, here I am on the internet. And at the top of my bookmarks menu is my new site. I have enough trouble with my computer at home, so I tapped the skills of a computer wizard I met on the set of ěHulkî to help me with this website business. Leon is taking care of the technical details, so I can concentrate on choosing some good nineteeth century engravings of the South Pacific islands. Many of them remind me of Malibu. When they donít remind me of Malibu, they remind me of Terry Malick...
August 15, 2004, Second Entry
Leon knows what he is doing. I'm not impuning the man. But this system for entering my thoughts seems a mite obtuse. I have to enter a title for each day you see. Sometimes it's hard to think of only one word that sums up a day. Sometimes it's hard to think of any. Which day today is, diary, I leave to you.
[on entry body text boxes]
August 16, 2004, What "diary" means
I was hunched over the Gateway this morning and upon entering the dining room, Manolo asked me what I was doing. Yes, Manolo will ask such direct questions, and more often, perhaps, than I or any guests I may have might be comfortable with. But very often his questions elicit satori in their answering, so attention is paid. At least by me. I explained that I had picked up the diarist bug. He misunderstood me at first in a predictable way. Then he asked me if only women had diaries. The fact is: "journals" are for sissies. I calmly explained that Steinbeck and Hemingway both had diaries and that that was good enough for me. He nodded and cleared the table. I was going to write about something else, but it looks like I'm almost out of room here. As salaam alaikum. [subtitles and emphasis added]
[Update: Hmmm, we may have been punk'd here. I'm digging around, stay tuned.]