I have fucking work to do.

I don't know who it was who said, "the more I know people, the more I love my dog." Some people attribute the quotation to Diogenes, an ancient Greek philosopher and truth-seeker. Others point to the bumper sticker on the 1977 Plymouth Acclaim that's been rusting on the side of the road for the last six weeks on I-95 just south of the Connor Avenue merge in the Bronx.

In any event, I've up-dated the sentiment for today. At least so it suits me and a few other, I'm sure, like-minded misanthropes.

"The more I hear about South by South, the more I love the roaches in my apartment."

For what seems like the past two or three millennia half of my friends' facebook posts have been datelined Austin.

I know where they eat. I know how far they run. I know whom they've bumped into. I've seen pictures of them near daises, behind daises, adjacent to daises.

As my Uncle Slappy would say, I'm up to my pupik in South by.

I guess part of me is jealous that I'm not there. That I am as distant from the center of modern marketing as Contoocook is from one of the moons of Neptune. Maybe that's the cause of some of my bitter negativity.

That said, my erstwhile colleagues do seem to be adding new dimension to the word 'bloviating.' And besides, I have fucking work to do.

Shooting a commercial with so-and-so at Hungry Man. Doing some work for a large tech company. And creating a brand for a big company that's never before marketed itself.

That's enough.

Like I said, I have fucking work to do.