These are the text messages that I received from my wife Rachelle the other day:
Rachelle: Really?!!
Rachelle: Wow!! Having Lyle Lovett like one of your Tweets is amazing! That must be a real feather in your cap!
Rachelle: I’m proud of you, Pickle!
Rachelle: Yes, of course I do.
Rachelle: He’s one of The Avengers, isn’t he?
Rachelle: The Jewish one.
Rachelle: The one who could turn himself into a plane that’s also a tiger.
Rachelle: Oh.
Rachelle: I thought one of The Avengers could do that.
Rachelle: And that they embraced all religions, that they fought for freedom of religious expression and each hero represented a great faith.
Rachelle: Oh.
Rachelle: Well, I guess I don’t know who Lyle Lovett is then.
Rachelle: Hmm, a musician.
Rachelle: No, none of those songs are familiar to me.
Rachelle: Just before my time, I guess.
Rachelle: Not a dig, Pickle. You’re just a lot older than me.
Rachelle: No, I’d say 12 years is a lot. Anything double digits.
Rachelle: What??
Rachelle: He was married to Julia Roberts?
Rachelle: You mean the guy who looks like a scarecrow/funeral director is Lyle Lovett?
Rachelle: Wow.
Rachelle: It’s true, personality does counts for a lot.
Rachelle: And yes, it is almost as if Julia Roberts liked your Tweet!
Rachelle: Aww, that’s sweet!
Rachelle: Well, if I’m your Pretty Woman, you’re my little Lyle Lovett!
Rachelle: Yes, my power skating class is over and I’ll be home soon.
Rachelle: With the wings.
Rachelle: Extra mild. Sauce on the side. Extra wet naps. No one carrot stick taller than any of the others. As always.
Rachelle: It’s a little bit of a serial killer kind of order, you know.
Rachelle: That was auto correct.
Rachelle: I wrote “You’re a sweet kind of order and your dedication to carrot equity is an inspiration to us all.”
Rachelle: Well, auto correct works in mysterious ways.
Rachelle: Through a glass darkly and all of that.
Rachelle: Yes, you probably will start getting ads in you Facebook feed for serial killer things now.
Rachelle: Well, they say technology knows you better than you know yourself, Pickle!
Rachelle: Oh, I’m kidding, honey.
Rachelle: You’re no serial killer.
Rachelle: In fact, you would be the worst serial killer in history.
Rachelle: Well, your allergies to start. Always blowing your nose and sneezing. You’d be detected straight away!
Rachelle: And then there’s your general physical and mental weakness. Serial killers have to be on the ball! I bet serial killers get 10 hours of sleep a night!
Rachelle: Ha Ha!! I know, I would kill for 10 hours of sleep, too!
Rachelle: But look, the fact that you could never be a serial killer is a compliment, not an insult.
Rachelle: I know, these are confusing times.
Rachelle: The falcon cannot hear the falconer.
Rachelle: It’s from a poem.
Rachelle: I think the falconer is the person who dresses the falcon when they go hunting. Picks out the outfits. Not positive.
Rachelle: Anyway, see you in about half an hour! xo
Michael Murray
Michael Murray is nothing without his wife.
Rachelle Maynard. That’s his wife.
Rachelle Maynard is the bomb.
She is the Galaxy Brain, and everything you see here is because of her.
That is the Capital T, truth.
But never mind that, for Michael Murray is truly the Galaxy Brain. He has won the New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest and is so good-natured that he was once mistaken for a missionary while strolling the streets of a small Cuban town. He has written for the National Post, the Globe and Mail, the Ottawa Citizen, Hazlitt Magazine, CBC Radio, Reader’s Digest and thousands of other prestigious publications and high-flying companies that pay obscene sums of money .You should buy his book, A Van Full of Girls and throw money at Galaxy Brain.
The humans put the money in the money basket -- so that all contributors may become plump with their labour.