Jack Nicholson's Diary

Somethin's gotta give here. I'm losing my freakin' noodle. I was here for Magic, Kareem, Worthy. I never thought I'd have to sit through Slowtime.

They're sayin' Staples could be a tomb for five or six years. Buss is stuck. We had to pay Kobe $20 million a year to stay, and we've got to pay Payton and these three nobodies a combined $31 million this year, so we've got less room under the cap than Ben Wallace in a skully.

Six years? I can't do six years of this, man! I'm losing my grip! I think I got a facial tic! I hear voices!

Sometimes, when I'm at my very darkest, and life doesn't seem worth living, I think about—I swear to God I do—going to a Clippers game.

And that's why I sit at this stupid laptop, hour after hour! You know what they say, right?

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull...