Stealing from the Best, or Whoever's Available

Three doobies of Fear, half a dozen lines of paranoia and a full injection of 'how do we get out of this?’ this morning. Sometimes only incredible luck will get you out of trouble. Other times trouble will find you whatever you have on you to fight it off. Today is one of those days. Lots to do. Absolutely no way of doing it.

Interviews. I like doing interviews. It's something to get better at and it's a useful skill. They're relatively straight forward. Switch on the Dictaphone, ask some questions, and let them roll for however long the momentum keeps them in the mood. Then, type it all out, craft an ingenious and teasing introduction and hand it in for every Tuesday.

I have nothing this week.

Frantic attempts to get in touch with Scott Fischman, Tiffany Williamson and Andy Bloch have brought zero good fortune. My contacts book is empty. Somewhere, Joe Hachem is laughing.

So I'm initiating 'Emergency Plan B', which in layman’s terms means a head in the sand gallop of emails to friends asking for help. Most of them haven't woken up yet. They'd better. I need to steal their work quick.