I think Chris Isaak and I could be really good friends.

I mean, I don’t know much about the guy, but he seems pretty mellow. I’m pretty mellow.

I like his music too.

He could come over to my house for dinner, or maybe just to hang out, or maybe we could play some video games.

Then I’d ask him why his TV show is on Showtime, a pay-cable station that nobody gets. I’d explain to him that basic cable or even HBO would be better for his career and would allow him to reach a much larger audience.

I could totally help him with lyrics for his new songs, and in appreciation he would shower me with all the gifts a big-name recording contract can buy.

He’d run his new material by me and I’d be like “Chris. That is a great song. Tammy just fainted for cryin’ out loud. You need to put that track on your next album.” Then he’d be all “I don’t know, Brett. I don’t feel like it’s the right sound.” Then I go “Dude. It totally is. You’re a friggin’ idiot if you don’t see how perfect that song is for your next album. It’s Billboard Top 10 material right there. Don’t be stupid. Christ.”

Then he’d go “See, that’s why this friendship is so great, Brett. You treat me like I’m not a celebrity – like I’m just a regular guy. You’re not afraid to get in there and tell me what I’m doing wrong. I like your moxie and I’m gonna lay down that track just for you. I’ll call it ‘My Pal Brett’.”

Sure enough, six months later ‘My Pal Brett’ hits #7 on the Billboard charts.

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