Sarah Lacy, self-absorbed twet and not-going-to-Brazil person, has christened herself the new Bob Woodward.
(Me on the phone with Bernstein, er…Paul Carr discussing Spotify last night. That’s right, Paul, I’m Woodward.)
Look folks. If the 9 people who know slash care who you are aren’t dubbing you with the moniker you’ve desired your whole life, then maybe it’s because you haven’t given them any reason to make the connection. Assigning yourself a nickname just makes you sound like George Costanza demanding to be called T-Bone – pathetic.