Mmmm, that's some good cynicism.

We mark milestones here at Round Seventeen.

Of course, when I say we, I mean me.

Because this is a one man endeavor.

And that's just the way I like it.

I know ad agency office managers and new age architects are busy creating spaces where "ideas can collide with each other in the hallway and spark other ideas and curate a greater sense of teamwork and collaboration." 

I don't want to have anything to do with that bullshit.

The other point that needs clarifying is the word, milestones.

Let's not kid each other, this is an inconsequential little blog, ranked
4,873,921, the last time I bothered to look on the blog ranking scale. If I'm lucky I get seven, maybe eight thousand hits, in a month. The web traffic tends to go up the more I write about advertising. Particularly when I write posts that are mildly self-destructive and creep up on the precipice of career suicide.

You sadistic bastards should all feel very proud of yourselves.

The truth is, there really are no milestones here at Round Seventeen. I might feel different when we get to the 1,000th post but right now I'm feeling brutally honest. And that's one emotion I like to give myself up to.

As we've (I've) done with past milestones, it's time to break out a new tagline.

Unlike the past, I'm not turning this into any kind of interactive contest. No one seems to want to play. And frankly I'm disgusted by your apathy. And your previously-mentioned sadistic streak.

My first thought was:

Round Seventeen. At the corner of brutally honest and shamelessly narcissistic. 

But that had too many adverbs. And I remember reading a style book on writing that claimed adverbs are not the writer's friend.

I also liked:

Round Seventeen. For your daily affirmation of misanthropy.

Then I realized that in addition to being apathetic and sadistic, many of you are employed in advertising and are clueless as to the definition of misanthropy. Moreover, you wouldn't even bother to look it up.

Finally, I decided to go in a different direction and pay homage to my favorite hole in the wall Mexican restaurant, El Nepol.

Days after moving to California and living on the roof of a frat house, I was brought there by two UCLA students who were making a ton of money as tilers. I didn't take them up on their offer to join the tiling business, but I never forgot my first pregnant burrito.

Round Seventeen. Home of the Cynical Burrito.