Chris Brierley is a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich, with arsenic sauce!
Chris woke up in between a memory and a dream.
Chris is the victim of an embarrassing and unseemly earworm.
Chris: dmr | sjobs | you
Chris has gotta fix that step.
Chris Brierley not say it out loud; Chris Brierley not crazy, just proud.
Chris remembers.
Chris played you a sweet song and you sang; you sang along.
Chris applied the cortical electrodes but was unable to get a neural reaction from either patient.
Chris is feeling avuncular.


Welcome to the world, Boden. We're going to have a whole lot of fun.
Chris: putting the needle on the record since 1971.
Chris is a stone in the stream.
Chris has a head full of brains and shoes full of feet.
Chris is quoting Rush's Freewill to his son.
Chris is rolling down the hill, snowballing, getting bigger.
Chris is coming in hot.
Chris has been singing with his band across the water, across the land.
Chris and Hillary are pleased to announce, in the blue corner, born at 6:06pm, standing a mighty 21 inches tall and weighing a terrifying 8 pounds 2 ounces....Lachlan!

Mom was a champion. Lachlan was quick. Daddy is drinking.
Chris is having another kid. Like...right now.