Author: Michael Murray

As some of you will know, I’ve been trying to win the New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest for the last couple of months. Inconceivably, it seemed, they always avoided picking my brilliant, cutting-edge submissions and I was never made a finalist. I hated them. I sent them letters with blood spattered on the envelope. I…

Nothing that Chris Brown does surprises me. He’s a complicated man. For almost a year now I’ve been having a sporadic Twitter conversation with him. At times its’ been very combative, like an Old School freestyle rap off, and at other times its been quasi-friendy.

Walking behind me on Madison were a boy and girl. They were probably in their late teens and they had the look of best friends, even though one of them secretly hoped their relationship would become more. They were happy, just now finally hitting the point in their lives when they were growing comfortable in…

Every year around President’s Day my dreams are infiltrated by figures from the American political landscape. It’s weird, this and I’ve recently started to share these night visions with my psychiatrist who has begun to try and help decode what they might mean.

Although I was crazy about the Montreal Expos as a boy, I never liked Gary Carter. He was the obvious star of this team that I lived and died by, performing both the over-sized heroics and all the small things that helped a team win games. However, when I looked at the earnest and ever-smiling…

The other night at a dinner party the topic of Chat Roulette came up. As you may recall, Chat Roulette was to become the next big thing. This web site allowed each user an opportunity to have a random video conversation with other people from all over the world. If you didn’t like

Today I have given the Blog over to Heidi, our Miniature Dachshund. Heidi have a few things to say about Valentine’s Day. No one know who this Saint actually was.

A woman in her late fifties sat beside me on the way home. She smelled of cigarette smoke and had two long, blonde whiskers growing from her chin. Knitting was her thing. She had a huge bag of dark green wool on her lap and she knitted, all the way from Milwaukee to Detroit. The…

On Sunday, instead of watching the Super Bowl like sensible people, Rachelle and I went to see a movie instead. I petitioned for The Grey. “Liam Neeson tapes glass to his knuckles and punches wolves! It’s going to be awesome!”