Superstar Bloggers Would Dig It If You Kept Calling Them That. Okay? Okay.
I’m guessing that it’s not a good thing that, of late, most urges of mine to be “creative” (by which I mean subjecting whichever idiot happens to fall into this site in his search for a terrible terrible Rod Stewart song to the random trappings of my brain) have been inspired only by the creative acts of others. Good Lord, did you see that run-on sentence? I’m so glad we both made it safely out.
As such, I don’t have anything to add to Michael Duff’s Friday column during which he raised a pen up to Alex Balk and Choire Sicha, among other Bloggers Missing In Recession. (Well, maybe that the “superstar bloggers” Duff’s doffing his cap to would (and did) get a good chuckle out of that oxymoronic description. Superstars are supposed to get paid, no?) Duff’s right and God (and I) love him for it.
Hey, wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if someone threw a startup website of the canned and laid-off bloggers who have talked about doing that very thing for years together at various Manhattan gin mills and everyone came and it was awesome? Just saying.
Finest Writers On The Web Are Ready to Work For Coffee, Beer [Michael Duff]