Good Morning, Lower East Siders!
I’m back, better, and due to my deteriorating metabolism — bigger than ever. Launching a marketing career and peddling my freelance services has overflowed my creative bandwidth and belt-width.

So, what have I been up to since becoming the self-established Siren of Fleet Week? Well, I experienced my first true creative block.
Despite wanting to write more Single Malt, I found myself at a loss for material that matched my initial blurred-vision for my brand. I was left with a blogging hangover that lasted the better part of the last year.
Money talks; my creativity hasn’t listened.
Yes, getting cockblocked thought-blocked by your brain is more frustrating than Gossip Girl’s finale. But despite this dry spell of creative juices, I’ve finally squeezed myself to a point of sheer frustration where I’ve cultivated a jumble of juicy content.
So I am back in action – sitting at Wall Street’s most affordable bar, nursing IPAs with my iPad, and testing material on unwitting barflies.
Moving on Wall Street has given me crucial lessons in investment and interest — for example, if you’re invested in a conversation with an Investment Banker, you’re still able to show interest to his Hedge Fund Manager friend.

To clarify, I live on Wall Street. I am not employed here by any means. While I tell people this, they quickly assume I have reliable stock market information or any comprehension of how a bear market differentiates from a thriving gay bar; however, I understand that each involves a degree of asset liquidation.
Strangely, they don’t pass classified information in the Stock Exchange on the way to the subway. In fact, due to my struggle to do basic addition, my math skills don’t actually add up to a reliable investment insight.
A quick detour into my stint in mathematics: After failing my college math placement exam, I spent a full semester taking a 0-credit course reviewing high school math. I was the only non-athlete in the class, let alone there on actual academic merit. From there, I barely earned a C in community college statistics summer course, and since, have only looked at a calculator to figure out discounts at Zara.

So welcome to the new era on Single Malt, brewing with new experiences inspired by living on one of New York’s most overhyped streets.
But don’t worry, there isn’t a secret I wouldn’t tell…
Because you’re nobody until you’re blogged about.
And who knows? Maybe in a few blog posts, I will reveal myself to be Dan Humphry.
Kidding, I’d never move to Brooklyn.

XOXO,
Single Malt