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If you asked us which celebrity we most fervently wish kept an online diary, we would quickly reply, "Melanie Griffith." Oh, wait a minute. We're changing our answer! We are proud to (belatedly, we know) present the free-associational prose stylings of Oscar-nominated legend Nick Nolte. Here, Nolte recounts the type of madcap "only in Hollywood incident" that happens to us at least three times a week:

I met a friend for coffee last night and ended up getting into a fender bender with Rosanna Arquette of all people.

As I gave her my attorney's card, I made a joke about celebrities never having license plates. Then I saw she indeed did have them. I felt embarrassed but I think the scene would have worked in a film. I hadn't seen her since a studio party for New York Stories. Of course, this meant I had Procol Harum in my head for the rest of the night. And there's nothing at the Coffee Bean that will clean my mind out sufficiently.

Sing it, Nick! If we only had a dollar for every time we were caught in the middle of a minor, all-celebrity auto accident, causing "A White Shade of Pale" to get stuck in our heads, we'd have enough money to retire to Malibu. We have a feeling we're going to be busy for the next few hours, lost in Nolte's wondrous archives. Call the cops if you don't hear from us by tomorrow morning.