Jason Levin

Moleskine notebook. Most of my best content ideas came from a notebook session. Or on the toilet.

Wake up at 8 AM, check Twitter, chug iced coffee, walk the dog, start writing bangers for me or clients. Write until 12, grab lunch, and scroll Twitter. I hit an afternoon slump around 1 so I drink more coffee, walk the dog around Central Park, hit the gym and steam-room, and take any phone calls or meetings I got on the calendar. Then I write more bangers until my fiancée comes home and we have dinner, watch TV, and walk the dog. Back to writing until like 10. Then I turn off my phone and read on my Kindle until falling asleep and dreaming of Twitter.

500 years ago, the funny guy in town would've been the King's jester, right? And if the King didn't like his joke, then he'd get his head chopped off. Now you can make a meme in 10 seconds while taking a shit, tweet it out, and get millions of views on it. Sure, not everyone who sees it is gonna buy your product but a small percentage of a giant number is still a sizable amount. We are living in the single-greatest time in history to monetize your sense of humor. Rather than making your 1 friend laugh in class, you can now make people laugh at scale. And as any entrepreneur knows, scale means profit—more eyeballs means more money.

People waste a lot of time cleaning and organizing that could be spent working and getting shit done. This is something I notice with FAANG people a lot—they'd rather write down outlines and make pretty Notion pages than get the work done. I think of it a lot like Mark Manson does in The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck. You gotta choose what to give a fuck about. There's only so many fucks you can give. If you give a fuck about your aesthetically beautiful workspace, you're not giving a fuck about something else. At some point, you run out of fucks. So rather than giving a fuck about having an Instagrammable workplace, I choose to give those fucks to other things: work, my family, and making dank memes.