The subject line is always “Heyz Darling.” The spam arrives steadily, with only some variation on the wording. “Would you like to keep me some company? My idiot Husband is out of town and I’m a little lonely.” Then there’s a link and “P.S. it’s me, Nicole f.”

In my deleted mail box, the first such items have interesting women’s names as the senders, probably due to computers generating most creatively than our parents. There’s Pasquale Berry, Christi Dumas and Bridgette Ewing.

But now, the computer has seemingly run out of women’s names. The senders this week increasingly have names of the male variety: Louis Jarvis, Otis Moyer and Rico Holcomb among the bunch. I give many of them a pass because they could be Morgan-Jordan-like crossovers, but the last straw is Ralph Dunbar.

When Ralph Dunbar tells me about his idiot husband and signs his letters “Nicole F,” my anti-spam program really has to do better.

Half Blood Prince needs you to transfer $30,500,000

Remember how Jamie got the spam from “Dumbledore” that tried to presell her the next Harry Potter book?

Well, Jamie got a spam yesterday morning from “Voldemort” that offered her a chance for a free copy of the book. Said Jamie, “Now, if I didn’t accept it from Dumbledore, why do they think I’d accept it from Voldemort?”

Spammer who cannot be named

“Dumbledore” sent Jamie a message, and it ended up in her bulkmail box. The message? “Be the first to read Harry Potter(r) Book 6: The Half-Blood Prince.”

“It’s all about knowing your target audience,” Jamie says, and she offers herself as proof. The message reminded her that she needed to reserve the book somewhere. She just didn’t do so with “Dumbledore.”

(Now and Then There’s) A Fool

Last January I said the Nigerians had jumped the shark by sending spam from a character identified as “Dr. Elvis.”

This week, the Nigerian spam coalition kept the bar raised high with another work of art. The sender? “Rev. Sankoh Elvis.” I’d like to go to a service at his church. You don’t get very many people with Elvis as a last name. Yahoo’s People Search only turns up 103 in the United States, so it must be especially rare in African nations.

I wish Rev. Elvis the best in his missionary work to smuggle the $14 million out of Togo.

In other Elvis news, the “2nd to None” RCA compilation hits record stores in October, following up last year’s “30 #1 Hits.” Among the great and hopefully beautifully remastered tracks on the new album are: ‘That’s All Right, Mama,” “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Viva Las Vegas,” and the teardrop “Love Me.” Read the full listing here.

The lusty Paul Oakenfold returns for another remix performance, this time with “Rubberneckin’.” The song’s no work of Hemingway, but the minimally backed verses are perfect for basing with a dance club beat. Although the video manages to be both overdone (two-story sideburns) and undercooked (no dance close-ups until near the end), the remix itself works for me more than last year’s “Little Less Conversation.”

Of course, as has been in the news recently, the never-released and recently unearthed “I’m a Roustabout” will drop into the album’s last track. The quality is unknown; and the fact that it was recorded for “Roustabout” — a movie about carnies (small hands) — doesn’t tell anyone a whole lot, even if the flick was known as one of the King’s better acting jobs. Read the lyrics.

One song that won’t make the album, unfortunately, is “Yoga Is as Yoga Does.” Songs like this one make it worth scrolling those Elvis lyric sites from time to time. Presley performs “Yoga” (full lyrics) in the 1967 Paramount picture, “Easy Come, Easy Go,” where Elvis plays a Navy frogman turned civilian treasure diver.

I admit to having seen parts of the movie, including the climactic underwater fight scene, but I obviously missed the new-age number. It’s no “Fort Lauderdale Chamber of Commerce,” but it’ll do.

Come on come on, untwist my legs

Pull my arms a lot

How did I get so tied up

In this yoga knot

You tell me just how I can take this yoga serious

When all it ever gives to me is a pain in my posteriors.