The devil in Sunnyvale.

Turns out he was mistakenly “volunteered” for Baghdad duty. A woman in his unit desperately wants to go and was disappointed not to be chosen; somehow his name was on the list and not hers. She ships out June 1 for “adventure” and Chris stays here in Paradise.

My friend Lauren is 19, and her boyfriend Chris is I think 22.

Yesterday she found out two things:

1. She got into UCLA, her dream school, as a transfer student from community college.

2. Chris, who is in the Army, is being shipped over to Baghdad for a year.

I should just be able to dismiss this nightmare as a hoax. Silly. Goofy. Preposterous, even! That a nutcase cult leader with a criminal record should be greeted this way.

Obviously it’s some sort of video art. It couldn’t be..

The fact that I’m not entirely sure this is a hoax is disturbing

Everyone is named Kaylee or Ashleigh or Abilene or Tadra or Shammara or Beckye or Lynzie or Rayline or Sharmi. Almost all of them are less than 25 years old. There are a lot of trucker hats. I think I saw the word “chillaxin'” again. Everyone is down for whatever.

It’s as though Viacom had bombed Orange County with Nu Metal Stupid Gas.

Where is my beautiful, brainy, poised, creative, fascinating 30-something princess?

Answer? She married a mortgage broker in 1998.

Oh, show me the way to the next little girl
Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why
Show me the way to the next little girl
Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why

For if we don’t find the next little girl
I tell you we must die, I tell you we must die
I tell you, I tell you, I tell you we must die

Oh, moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We’ve lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey, oh, you know why

SpeedTV needs to think of a different name for this series.

We have the SIX POUND BURGER.

I am so glad that our boys are over there protecting our way of life.

The publisher of “Maxim” writes poetry, and travels around the world reading it to people.

surprise! it’s shitty!

It’s something else watching the1withtheeyes work match.com. There she sits with three or four friends kibitzing, scrolling down through the lists of guys. She finds one, clicks down… BOOM! Rejected! Finds another.. hmm, maybe he’s okay.. guy next to her says “Dorky sideburns” BOOM! Rejected.

Finds one who seems to please the committee and messages him. The message window gets put in a stack for possible response aaaaaaand we’re back into the pages of thumbnails.

It’s a brutal industrial process. Her friends are evil like reality show judges. It’s way better than browsing Match yourself. And now I know what it’s like if I ever decide to try to find a girlfriend there! Yow.

She and vegemitelover have a great place. In a movie, the weird wizardly person would live there, the mad scientist or wizard or artist who has the key to the puzzle. Odd loft up top, bare rafters, lots and lots of neat art all over the place, with a big yard for sitting around in on a summer night. It’s so not Newport Beach.

I bought some fresh green almonds today. Now I have to figure out what to do with them.

Can I be John Zorn when I grow up?

Here’s a list of what you’ll be hearing in Guitar Center lately.