Don't Stop Be-loggin'

I just got out of lunch with a friend at Conde Nast (hey Tom Florio! ever thought of guest-editing at Gridskipper?) and now I'm blogging from Bryant Park. Man, this is truly amazing. The revolution is ON. Who really wants office space and the $40K/month price tag that comes with it? Bah, that's old economy thinking. Who wants heating and air conditioning? That's only for weak-ass punks who can't regulate their own body temperature. Only the strong are gonna survive this new era of journalism without borders or a supply closet.

The air here is free. You can inhale and exhale as much as you want and no landlord is gonna come a-knockin' and no tax man will be a-auditin'. They must have solved that pesky homeless problem from a year ago (or taught them manners) because the only ones I see are sleeping. Truthfully, I wouldn't mind if they asked for money. I would use the opportunity to sit their butts down (with a layer of newspaper on my seat of course, there still are good uses for dino-printosaurus) in front of this laptop and have them guest-blog. Going rate is $8.50/post from what I hear and they couldn't be any worse than a lot of the people who've graced a blogging payroll. (Want me to name names, right? Here's one: Krucoff.) My only questions now are where the hell is Calacanis and why isn't he buying me drinks?

Disclosure: While I did hang out in Bryant Park and took full advantage of the wifi I was only able to check email and Jalopnik (Spinelli, thank god you're back!) before I realized my battery was already low when I arrived and ran out of power. I wrote this and posted from home.