Sorry for the long absence here, but that thing last week nearly killed me. Much love to everyone who reported that I was looking “feisty,” and “spry,” because, yeah. I am so fucking spry, motherfuckers. I’m a hundred and three pounds of ass-kicking ninja-fighting spry. Every morning when I leap out of bed and go out to train for that Marine Corps Marathon that I’m running in April, that’s exactly what I’m thinking. Jobso, I say to myself, you are one spry bastard.
Anyway, it’s been announced, and everyone loves it, and I think it’s pretty obvious to everyone now that we’ve totally changed the world again and that all of the other tech companies should just close their doors now because there is no way any other company can keep up with us. Now would you assholes from Gawker please get the fuck out of my way so that my bodyguards and I can race over to our mountain bikes and ride up to Marin County and enjoy a huge healthy lunch at Sushi Ran? Thank you.