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A lot of these new era cult leaders have it all wrong. I share a few lessons learned from some of the larger cults. 

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Check out the brand new substack!

This is a love letter the my car. The hunk of junk that refuses to get rid of me. My ride or die, even though I would prefer for it to die at this point. Shout out to the tiggy.

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How do we survive the coldest days of the winter? Arguably not well. However, we do it together. Sometimes friends are the most important thing we thaw along the way.

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A short, meandering rant about how I accidentally became “the guy with an opinion” after weighing in on the placement of an office plant. From there it spirals into workplace silence, wine-fueled kitchen debates about economics, movie opinions I can’t defend, and the general social pressure to always have a take—even when you don’t fully know what you’re talking about. It’s observational, a little self-owning, and mostly about the exhaustion of being expected to land somewhere, all anchored by a plant that keeps surviving bad decisions long after everyone involved has moved on.

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Weddings have the potential to be the most beautiful thing in the world. Until the performative people took over. 

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The stakes are high, for the first time in a year we have an excuse to kiss a girl, and odds are they are actually also looking for a kiss.

Less face directly off with forced momentum and see if the object that moves everyone can move an immovable object.

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What should have been a straightforward trip turns into a liminal, cocktail-fueled odyssey through the uniquely unhinged ecosystem of the airport. In Airport Odyssey, I unravel the disorientation of delayed timelines, forced small talk, and the strange authority figures who control your fate while insisting everything is “totally normal.”

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A simple errand spirals into a full-blown moral standoff when I walk into the deli section expecting sustenance and walk out questioning power, pride, and who’s really in charge behind the counter.