Paul Carr, Naked In A Hotel Corridor, Embarrasses TechCrunch Yet Again

Paul Carr, our on again, off again, sometimes full time employee, often irregular contributor, reminds me of a certain ex girlfriend. It’s a dramatic relationship, always interesting, but you just know it’s going to end up a mess. Still, I love his writing.

And don’t get me wrong, We encourage our writers and editors to build their personal brand. Erick Schonfeld’s been on Charlie Rose, which pleased his mother to no end. Most of our writers are occasionally talking heads on various cable news shows. Sarah Lacy has published two books on entrepreneurship (her new one is here). CrunchGear Editor John Biggs has been threatening to publish a book about Marie Antoinette’s watch, the “iPhone of its day,” for as long as I’ve known him.

Paul Carr, though.

He’s got a book (and it’s good). And the next one, about his life living in hotels (he only lives in hotels, all the time), is on pre-order.

So the logical next step in building his personal brand? A multi-page feature article in the UK’s Loaded magazine. Talking about how hard he parties in hotels. And featuring pictures of barely dressed women in said hotels.

You can read it here. Images from the print version on Paul’s blog are here.

Here’s what we learn about Paul.

Three years, close to 300 hotels and about a million anecdotes later, Paul symbolises a freedom man would sell his own sister to achieve – living like James Bond in a different hotel each night for next to nothing, whether it’s a penthouse in Vegas, studio in the Spanish mountains or his most regular haunt: a three-room suite in San Francisco, successfully wangled for a mere $40 a night.


“I woke up drunk, stark fucking naked in a hotel corridor, no idea how I got there. I was sitting outside my room, I didn’t have any clothes so obviously I didn’t have my key. “This hotel was a boutique with few windows, so I couldn’t tell if it was noon or 3am. Having to go down to the hotel lobby, awkwardly covering myself up and begging this massive Russian night porter to let me back into my room while he stood as far away from me as he possibly could in the lift… it was one of those moments where I thought: ‘This is not a way for a grown man to live.’”

Thanks Paul. We couldn’t be prouder.