Please excuse my absence today. I made this move, timestamped on Twitter:
AKA, “what having big balls looks like.” Well where was “The Rhino?” I was talking to my coder/programmer for the last three hours. We are both rather savage fellows, sharing the same urge to “give everyone the finger.” He wants a Lamborghini Aventador, and I want a house. He also lives in Queens, if that says something.
Instead of just walking away with some good work done on one idea, we came away with two. But, he’s already built almost all of the framework for the other one, so I just have to brainstorm on how to create the interest and take market share away from sites that already do the same thing. Don’t worry, it’s not finance or social media related.
There is a ton of work to be done, but he can write the code in his sleep, drunk. And, I always figure out someway to make things work, so I don’t think it should be a problem. The ol’ stuffy fools with Princteton MBAs better be watching their backs, because we will take your crappy site and app, make it way faster and better looking, and sell it for less.
With no offices, from opposite sides of the country, wearing our PJ’s, we are going to give the “Old Guard” both middle fingers. They’ll be sitting there in their big corner offices, behind their big wooden desks, necks choked by their silk ties, watching their companies get tossed off cliffs, like the defective children they are. This is Sparta, not the country club in the Hamptons, your degree, and family name mean nothing, and will give you no protection, against the blade I wield.
“But aren’t you afraid of the backlash?” Were Gates or Jobs? I AM SCARED OF NO MAN! Or any entity, neither is “The Programmer.”