Excerpts from Chris Isaak’s Diary

June 1, 2002

I woke up this morning and it was raining. I mean, not actually raining outside, because it’s summer, but it was raining in my heart. And everything was black like a bruise. You fooled me with your ruse. Hey, that’s pretty good, that could be a new song. And maybe for the chorus I could just wail out some vowels.

June 12, 2002

I met a girl at the carwash today. She was really attractive. We made out in the rinse cycle, just like on that one Ally McBeal episode. Afterwards she gave me her phone number and told me to call her for a date sometime, but I explained how eventually she would run off with my best friend and leave me broken and alone, so what would be the point of having Thai food and seeing the new Matrix movie when the whole thing was doomed to end in despair? This made her mad and she drove off. I knew she would leave. Now I can only grieve. Hey, that’s pretty good.

June 16, 2002

I went to my niece’s high school graduation ceremony today. I can’t believe she’s eighteen already. She looked so grown-up. Soon she’ll be in college, and then she’ll meet a nice man and get married and have kids. I just hope that her husband doesn’t run off with his secretary and leave my niece bitter and alone. But even if he doesn’t leave, she’ll still die someday. The entire concept of an optimistic graduation ceremony is such a farce. But the speeches were pretty good.