Namaste cult collective
For the past few days I have been scooting around midtown and the likes of Central Park with puppies in tow. Peanut doesn’t pull quite how I had hoped, but a scooter is certainly no bike. At least pushing myself around is cardio. I think. And I heard cardio is healthy.
Once again, I digress. So like I was saying, Scooter.
Last Saturday I took the C train to W4th Street and wandered to the east side where I visited Urban Motion on 12th Street. A friendly sales boy greeted me with a beaming, “So what type of scooter are you looking for?”
He recommended two and sent me out to scoot between Avenue A and B. I selected my favorite and swished to Union Square, where I conveniently folded the scooter and carried it onto the 5 train. I zoomed back up to Grand Central and rode it back to Hell’s Kitchen.
I think I’m in love again.
Besides being busy back at work after a week off, I have also been reading content submissions for new secret sites that I will be launching in early 2014. I’ve never considered myself an Editor before. But I do reckon that I can differenciate between good writing and crap writing. I’m pretty sure it’s this talent mixed with a reasonable eye for copy that make a decent Editor.
Fronkles is still itching his face off. Out of all the dirty grubblies he can have, none of them should be able to live longer than a month if you’re treating it. I have about two more weeks left to determine whether its grubblies or straight shot skin issues. Right now, I’m still leaning toward grublies.
Gross.
My book proposal is still “almost finished”, there are only a certain amount of hours in a day. Plus submitting things makes me barf, so I don’t usually rush.