Tuesday, July 12, 2005

ist, isti... don't you see it?

Gothamist seems to be on a roll these days. With the unrolling of Phillyist, Shanghaiist, and Parisist, they're swinging for the fences and going for the gold.

I think they're only Gothamist 'cause my boy Jim is already the New Yorkest.

I'm thinking though, given that not only am I the -ist, I am the Isti, that I oughta consider representing. Cairoist and Damascusist and Beirutist are still up for grabs, no? (Plesk says na'am.)


Then when they come asking for those domains (in a future when people equate Cairo with it's monuments, Damascus with it's heritage, and Beirut with it's food and nightlife, instead of beggars, terrorists, and bombs) I'll smirk and force them to make me editor. and if not editor, copywriter. And if not copywriter, the girl who knows the guy who sells the black market whiskey during Ramadan. -- and real proper Johnny Walker Black Label, none of that Jonnie Waddie Black Table nonsense.

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