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Three beers deep and my bladder officially waved the white flag 🍻😵‍💫💀 Ended up completely peeing myself right into my Vans 👟💦 No regrets, just vibes. Legendary (and slightly soggy) night 🙃😂 #wetting #pee #omorashi #sneaker #piss #vans #vanssk8hi

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Pissboy

1,452 subscribers

13,765 次观看 • 8 个月前 •via X (Twitter)

#wetting#pee#omorashi#sneaker#piss#vans#vanssk8hi
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Teamed up with PG in 2K and that man really turned me into a certified corner boy 😭 had me standing in the corner like I was PJ Tucker—no dribbles, no movement, just vibes. 💀 Might need to change my name from Agent Zero to Agent Spot-Up. 😂 #CornerBoyChronicles #PGMadeMeA3andDPlayer
0:16

Teamed up with PG in 2K and that man really turned me into a certified corner boy 😭 had me standing in the corner like I was PJ Tucker—no dribbles, no movement, just vibes. 💀 Might need to change my name from Agent Zero to Agent Spot-Up. 😂 #CornerBoyChronicles #PGMadeMeA3andDPlayer

Gilbert Arenas

115,188 次观看 • 9 个月前

#ProjectNewZealand Day 3/4/5: 28km/51km/17km After a long day on the move yesterday, I found myself still on the trail late into the night. Phone dead. Head torch fading. Miles from my team. Nearly 50km deep, I’d bowled through forests, mountains, rivers, whatever New Zealand had thrown my way. But moving through it all at night was a different kettle of fish, and I was starting to think I’d slightly overcooked this one. With just a few emergency bits on me, I navigated off my watch and eventually stumbled across a hut. Inside, to my surprise, was a Canadian lad I’d met a few days before. He lent me a sleeping bag liner, and I wrapped up with my foil blanket like a human baked potato. The kindness of strangers coming through yet again. Not every day goes to plan on these projects, but that’s kind of the point. The best adventures aren’t the ones that run smoothly, they’re the ones that force you to adapt, push through, and trust that the next turn in the trail might just bring exactly what you need. Jumping on some tarmac over the next few days to crush some mileage. Hope you’ve all had a great week out there🫡
0:06

#ProjectNewZealand Day 3/4/5: 28km/51km/17km After a long day on the move yesterday, I found myself still on the trail late into the night. Phone dead. Head torch fading. Miles from my team. Nearly 50km deep, I’d bowled through forests, mountains, rivers, whatever New Zealand had thrown my way. But moving through it all at night was a different kettle of fish, and I was starting to think I’d slightly overcooked this one. With just a few emergency bits on me, I navigated off my watch and eventually stumbled across a hut. Inside, to my surprise, was a Canadian lad I’d met a few days before. He lent me a sleeping bag liner, and I wrapped up with my foil blanket like a human baked potato. The kindness of strangers coming through yet again. Not every day goes to plan on these projects, but that’s kind of the point. The best adventures aren’t the ones that run smoothly, they’re the ones that force you to adapt, push through, and trust that the next turn in the trail might just bring exactly what you need. Jumping on some tarmac over the next few days to crush some mileage. Hope you’ve all had a great week out there🫡

Russ Cook

112,889 次观看 • 1 年前

There's something about design that truly makes me happy. Before I was diagnosed with a complete SCI, I loved building thing with my hands and trying to make them unique and beautiful. The accident didn't just take my mobility, it robbed me of my creative drive. I didn't I would ever get that back that was up until Neuralink came into the picture. I was very serious about applying but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Then Noland Arbaugh comes into the picture and I see his video and I saw how passionate he was toward the whole ide and that was like a switch. I want to thank Noland because if I hadn't seen that video I wouldn't be typing this message with my thoughts. So the day I gained control of the device I had the guys install Autodesk Fusion and the first night I had my first part designed by BCI. I have been designing things non-stop since. Now lets talk tools and the first one is the ArcDroid it is a CNC robot that holds a plasma torch and can cut profiles in sheet metal. I have made numerous signs, letters and parts with this and i love it. I have also had the chance to help the local high school install and setup their CNC plasma table. I love being able to share my knowledge with others and show new technology to kids that want to learn. The next one everybody is more familiar with is the Bambu Lab X1C. It is my first 3D printer and I had no idea how dang handy these things were! I can go from thought, Neuralink, Fusion, X1C and poof! You have your part all in a matter of like a hour. I make everything from parts for my wheelchair or RC ✈ to toys for my nephew. These devices have completely changed my life. I now have my creative outlet back and I'm not done looking for new things to try. I'm thinking a laser next!!!😎 Thank you Elon Musk for the opportunity to showcase my skills, I'm extremely grateful🙏
0:28

There's something about design that truly makes me happy. Before I was diagnosed with a complete SCI, I loved building thing with my hands and trying to make them unique and beautiful. The accident didn't just take my mobility, it robbed me of my creative drive. I didn't I would ever get that back that was up until Neuralink came into the picture. I was very serious about applying but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Then Noland Arbaugh comes into the picture and I see his video and I saw how passionate he was toward the whole ide and that was like a switch. I want to thank Noland because if I hadn't seen that video I wouldn't be typing this message with my thoughts. So the day I gained control of the device I had the guys install Autodesk Fusion and the first night I had my first part designed by BCI. I have been designing things non-stop since. Now lets talk tools and the first one is the ArcDroid it is a CNC robot that holds a plasma torch and can cut profiles in sheet metal. I have made numerous signs, letters and parts with this and i love it. I have also had the chance to help the local high school install and setup their CNC plasma table. I love being able to share my knowledge with others and show new technology to kids that want to learn. The next one everybody is more familiar with is the Bambu Lab X1C. It is my first 3D printer and I had no idea how dang handy these things were! I can go from thought, Neuralink, Fusion, X1C and poof! You have your part all in a matter of like a hour. I make everything from parts for my wheelchair or RC ✈ to toys for my nephew. These devices have completely changed my life. I now have my creative outlet back and I'm not done looking for new things to try. I'm thinking a laser next!!!😎 Thank you Elon Musk for the opportunity to showcase my skills, I'm extremely grateful🙏

Alex Conley

43,158 次观看 • 8 个月前

This is the story told by the child's mother: For three weeks my son lay in that pediatric ICU bed on a ventilator, his eyes open but empty, not squeezing my hand, not turning toward my voice, not responding to a single thing the doctors or I tried - and after twenty-one days of watching my little boy be somewhere I couldn't reach him, the thing that finally brought him back wasn't a medicine or a machine. It was a wet nose against his oxygen mask. His name is Mason, and he's seven. A sudden illness had put him in the hospital and then on life support faster than any of us could understand. The doctors used careful words — "minimally responsive," "we're monitoring for signs" — but what they meant was that my bright, giggling, dinosaur-obsessed boy had gone somewhere deep inside himself, and no one could promise me he'd come back. I talked to him for hours. I read his favorite books. I played his shows. Nothing. His little face stayed slack behind the mask, his eyes drifting and unfocused. Three weeks of it. I was starting to lose hope in a way I couldn't say out loud. Back home, there was Rex - Mason's dog since before Mason could walk. A goofy, gentle mutt who slept in Mason's bed every night and waited by the door every afternoon for the school bus that hadn't come in three weeks. Rex had stopped eating right. He'd lie by Mason's empty bed for hours. The hospital had a facility-dog program, and after weeks of us begging, they made an exception and cleared Rex for a supervised visit. I didn't expect anything. I just wanted Mason to have him close. They lifted Rex carefully onto the edge of the bed. He went still, staring at the small still boy he loved. Then he inched forward, stretched out his neck, and pressed his nose right up against the edge of Mason's oxygen mask, breathing him in. And my son - who hadn't reacted to anything in twenty-one days — turned his head. The whole room stopped breathing.
0:10

This is the story told by the child's mother: For three weeks my son lay in that pediatric ICU bed on a ventilator, his eyes open but empty, not squeezing my hand, not turning toward my voice, not responding to a single thing the doctors or I tried - and after twenty-one days of watching my little boy be somewhere I couldn't reach him, the thing that finally brought him back wasn't a medicine or a machine. It was a wet nose against his oxygen mask. His name is Mason, and he's seven. A sudden illness had put him in the hospital and then on life support faster than any of us could understand. The doctors used careful words — "minimally responsive," "we're monitoring for signs" — but what they meant was that my bright, giggling, dinosaur-obsessed boy had gone somewhere deep inside himself, and no one could promise me he'd come back. I talked to him for hours. I read his favorite books. I played his shows. Nothing. His little face stayed slack behind the mask, his eyes drifting and unfocused. Three weeks of it. I was starting to lose hope in a way I couldn't say out loud. Back home, there was Rex - Mason's dog since before Mason could walk. A goofy, gentle mutt who slept in Mason's bed every night and waited by the door every afternoon for the school bus that hadn't come in three weeks. Rex had stopped eating right. He'd lie by Mason's empty bed for hours. The hospital had a facility-dog program, and after weeks of us begging, they made an exception and cleared Rex for a supervised visit. I didn't expect anything. I just wanted Mason to have him close. They lifted Rex carefully onto the edge of the bed. He went still, staring at the small still boy he loved. Then he inched forward, stretched out his neck, and pressed his nose right up against the edge of Mason's oxygen mask, breathing him in. And my son - who hadn't reacted to anything in twenty-one days — turned his head. The whole room stopped breathing.

Gabriele Corno

92,554 次观看 • 1 个月前

This is the account given by the woman featured in the video: A neighbor's Pit Bull kept escaping just to come sit on my porch. When I finally figured out why, I laughed before doing anything else. Not exactly the reaction my son - or even I - was expecting. For months, no one could make sense of it. He belonged to the family across the street. Young couple, two boys, the kind of household that refreshed their yard every spring and treated painting trim like a weekend project. And still... their dog kept leaving. Not to chase anything. Not to get into trouble. Not even to explore. He would cross the street, climb up my steps, and sit right at my front door like he had somewhere to be. The tirst time, I assumed he was lost. The second time, I figured their gate wasn't secure. By the third time, even his owners looked a little embarrassed — like this wasn't misbehavior anymore, it was determination. "I'm so sorry," the wife said one day, standing in my yard with an empty leash, slightly out of breath. "He got out again... and came straight here." I looked at him. Big head. White chest. Soft amber eyes beneath a face that would usually make people hesitate. There he was, sitting calmly on my porch in the quiet mountain sun, as steady as if he belonged there. When I opened the door, he didn't run. Didn't bark. He just leaned his warm body against my leg and let out a long, contented sigh. That was six years after my husband passed. Six years of living alone in Flagstaff. Six years of one cup, one plate, one empty side of the bed. People kept telling me I should get a dog, like love was something you could just pick back up when you felt ready. But I had already lost one great love. I wasn't looking for another bond that would one day leave me counting the silence again. So when that dog kept choosing my porch instead of his own home... I didn't feel chosen. I telt trapped. I just didn't know by what. It took time to understand. It wasn't pressure. It wasn't loss waiting to happen. It was something gentler. He wasn't replacing anything. He wasn't asking for anything I couldn't give. He just showed up. Again and again. Until the quiet didn't feel so heavy anymore. Eventually, his family and I stopped apologizing back and forth and started laughing about it instead. We worked out a rhythm — he'd visit, I'd keep the door open, and somehow, it all just fit. Now, he still comes by. Not because he's escaping. But because he has two homes. And for the first time in years, mine doesn't feel empty anymore.
0:15

This is the account given by the woman featured in the video: A neighbor's Pit Bull kept escaping just to come sit on my porch. When I finally figured out why, I laughed before doing anything else. Not exactly the reaction my son - or even I - was expecting. For months, no one could make sense of it. He belonged to the family across the street. Young couple, two boys, the kind of household that refreshed their yard every spring and treated painting trim like a weekend project. And still... their dog kept leaving. Not to chase anything. Not to get into trouble. Not even to explore. He would cross the street, climb up my steps, and sit right at my front door like he had somewhere to be. The tirst time, I assumed he was lost. The second time, I figured their gate wasn't secure. By the third time, even his owners looked a little embarrassed — like this wasn't misbehavior anymore, it was determination. "I'm so sorry," the wife said one day, standing in my yard with an empty leash, slightly out of breath. "He got out again... and came straight here." I looked at him. Big head. White chest. Soft amber eyes beneath a face that would usually make people hesitate. There he was, sitting calmly on my porch in the quiet mountain sun, as steady as if he belonged there. When I opened the door, he didn't run. Didn't bark. He just leaned his warm body against my leg and let out a long, contented sigh. That was six years after my husband passed. Six years of living alone in Flagstaff. Six years of one cup, one plate, one empty side of the bed. People kept telling me I should get a dog, like love was something you could just pick back up when you felt ready. But I had already lost one great love. I wasn't looking for another bond that would one day leave me counting the silence again. So when that dog kept choosing my porch instead of his own home... I didn't feel chosen. I telt trapped. I just didn't know by what. It took time to understand. It wasn't pressure. It wasn't loss waiting to happen. It was something gentler. He wasn't replacing anything. He wasn't asking for anything I couldn't give. He just showed up. Again and again. Until the quiet didn't feel so heavy anymore. Eventually, his family and I stopped apologizing back and forth and started laughing about it instead. We worked out a rhythm — he'd visit, I'd keep the door open, and somehow, it all just fit. Now, he still comes by. Not because he's escaping. But because he has two homes. And for the first time in years, mine doesn't feel empty anymore.

Gabriele Corno

112,500 次观看 • 26 天前

This weekend my dream came into fruition. And it still doesn’t feel real… I started Earnit Media in late 2023. There were many times when I did the weekly calls completely by myself, nobody would join. I’d sit there for an hour just hoping to hear the Discord join sound. Now I just hosted an irl meet up in Gdańsk with 18 members who’ve flown from all over the world. Shoutout DiPi for getting a 16 hour flight all the way from California. The power of the internet is wild and the opportunities YouTube and short form content have provided is a real blessing. I gave out awards for members that passed milestones like $10K and $100K since joining Earnit and seeing the amount of lives my community has changed in person is an indescribable feeling. The members also got me and my right hand man Ben a very special gift. A custom Earnit belt that was signed by all of them. I’ve been sleeping with it wrapped around my shoulder. It was so cool to see everyone sharing sauce and motivating each other. It doesn’t matter if you’re making 1K, 5K, 10K, 30K a month - everybody benefited from the conversations and provided value. It’s taken a long time to build such a supportive community but man was the effort worth it. I come from a small English town where nobody works online, let alone does YouTube. So to be able to meet like-minded people who understand exactly what you do, have the same sense of urgency + ambition is a rarity and is key for growth. I have no doubt that so many of us are gonna be lifelong friends. I keep telling myself that I’m so grateful and lucky to have been able to do this because I truly have been blessed with the cards life has dealt me and the path I’ve been put on. I strongly believe my purpose is to change peoples lives in a positive way, so to be told that I’ve done that in person by several people has made me realize that I’m executing my mission well. This is only the beginning. Earnit Media on top. Thank you for everything. Vlog coming soon.
0:11

This weekend my dream came into fruition. And it still doesn’t feel real… I started Earnit Media in late 2023. There were many times when I did the weekly calls completely by myself, nobody would join. I’d sit there for an hour just hoping to hear the Discord join sound. Now I just hosted an irl meet up in Gdańsk with 18 members who’ve flown from all over the world. Shoutout DiPi for getting a 16 hour flight all the way from California. The power of the internet is wild and the opportunities YouTube and short form content have provided is a real blessing. I gave out awards for members that passed milestones like $10K and $100K since joining Earnit and seeing the amount of lives my community has changed in person is an indescribable feeling. The members also got me and my right hand man Ben a very special gift. A custom Earnit belt that was signed by all of them. I’ve been sleeping with it wrapped around my shoulder. It was so cool to see everyone sharing sauce and motivating each other. It doesn’t matter if you’re making 1K, 5K, 10K, 30K a month - everybody benefited from the conversations and provided value. It’s taken a long time to build such a supportive community but man was the effort worth it. I come from a small English town where nobody works online, let alone does YouTube. So to be able to meet like-minded people who understand exactly what you do, have the same sense of urgency + ambition is a rarity and is key for growth. I have no doubt that so many of us are gonna be lifelong friends. I keep telling myself that I’m so grateful and lucky to have been able to do this because I truly have been blessed with the cards life has dealt me and the path I’ve been put on. I strongly believe my purpose is to change peoples lives in a positive way, so to be told that I’ve done that in person by several people has made me realize that I’m executing my mission well. This is only the beginning. Earnit Media on top. Thank you for everything. Vlog coming soon.

igorm

20,080 次观看 • 1 年前

"A neighbor’s Pit Bull kept escaping just to come sit on my porch. When I finally figured out why, I laughed before doing anything else. Not exactly the reaction my son — or even I — was expecting. For months, no one could make sense of it. He belonged to the family across the street. Young couple, two boys, the kind of household that refreshed their yard every spring and treated painting trim like a weekend project. And still… their dog kept leaving. Not to chase anything. Not to get into trouble. Not even to explore. He would cross the street, climb up my steps, and sit right at my front door like he had somewhere to be. The first time, I assumed he was lost. The second time, I figured their gate wasn’t secure. By the third time, even his owners looked a little embarrassed — like this wasn’t misbehavior anymore, it was determination. “I’m so sorry,” the wife said one day, standing in my yard with an empty leash, slightly out of breath. “He got out again… and came straight here.” I looked at him. Big head. White chest. Soft amber eyes beneath a face that would usually make people hesitate. There he was, sitting calmly on my porch in the quiet mountain sun, as steady as if he belonged there. When I opened the door, he didn’t run. Didn’t bark. He just leaned his warm body against my leg and let out a long, contented sigh. That was six years after my husband passed. Six years of living alone in Flagstaff. Six years of one cup, one plate, one empty side of the bed. People kept telling me I should get a dog, like love was something you could just pick back up when you felt ready. But I had already lost one great love. I wasn’t looking for another bond that would one day leave me counting the silence again. So when that dog kept choosing my porch instead of his own home… I didn’t feel chosen. I felt trapped. I just didn’t know by what. It took time to understand. It wasn’t pressure. It wasn’t loss waiting to happen. It was something gentler. He wasn’t replacing anything. He wasn’t asking for anything I couldn’t give. He just showed up. Again and again. Until the quiet didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Eventually, his family and I stopped apologizing back and forth and started laughing about it instead. We worked out a rhythm — he’d visit, I’d keep the door open, and somehow, it all just fit. Now, he still comes by. Not because he’s escaping. But because he has two homes. And for the first time in years, mine doesn’t feel empty anymore.
0:15

"A neighbor’s Pit Bull kept escaping just to come sit on my porch. When I finally figured out why, I laughed before doing anything else. Not exactly the reaction my son — or even I — was expecting. For months, no one could make sense of it. He belonged to the family across the street. Young couple, two boys, the kind of household that refreshed their yard every spring and treated painting trim like a weekend project. And still… their dog kept leaving. Not to chase anything. Not to get into trouble. Not even to explore. He would cross the street, climb up my steps, and sit right at my front door like he had somewhere to be. The first time, I assumed he was lost. The second time, I figured their gate wasn’t secure. By the third time, even his owners looked a little embarrassed — like this wasn’t misbehavior anymore, it was determination. “I’m so sorry,” the wife said one day, standing in my yard with an empty leash, slightly out of breath. “He got out again… and came straight here.” I looked at him. Big head. White chest. Soft amber eyes beneath a face that would usually make people hesitate. There he was, sitting calmly on my porch in the quiet mountain sun, as steady as if he belonged there. When I opened the door, he didn’t run. Didn’t bark. He just leaned his warm body against my leg and let out a long, contented sigh. That was six years after my husband passed. Six years of living alone in Flagstaff. Six years of one cup, one plate, one empty side of the bed. People kept telling me I should get a dog, like love was something you could just pick back up when you felt ready. But I had already lost one great love. I wasn’t looking for another bond that would one day leave me counting the silence again. So when that dog kept choosing my porch instead of his own home… I didn’t feel chosen. I felt trapped. I just didn’t know by what. It took time to understand. It wasn’t pressure. It wasn’t loss waiting to happen. It was something gentler. He wasn’t replacing anything. He wasn’t asking for anything I couldn’t give. He just showed up. Again and again. Until the quiet didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Eventually, his family and I stopped apologizing back and forth and started laughing about it instead. We worked out a rhythm — he’d visit, I’d keep the door open, and somehow, it all just fit. Now, he still comes by. Not because he’s escaping. But because he has two homes. And for the first time in years, mine doesn’t feel empty anymore.

Crazy Moments

234,569 次观看 • 1 个月前

Saturday - Adam Friedland This musical intro was the best part of the show. The rest of his act just made me miss Nick Mullen. Unlike every other show this week, there were girls there. They seem to love this guy. I used him as bait, to get the girl from Wednesday to go out with me again. She loves Red Scare Podcast and this Jewish twink is a staple of the Red Scare Extended Universe and I wanted to fuck her and so let's go see Adam Friedland. The problem with Adam is that he has no conviction. He does not own the room, he's just filling space. He announced that his father was there, in the crowd, which is great, let's hear something that might make your father uncomfortable. No such thing was said. He stared at the floor for half the set, as if he was sorry for being there. I saw Mulaney the night before; the difference was stark. Mulaney can get away with being a sheepish pushover twink Sometimes because he also has balls. He can accelerate from "Aw shucks" to "SHUCK YOU MOTHERSHUCKER" and both versions of himself feel true. Look, I get it, being a sad sorry pushover is his schtick and it works with the voice and it's very relatable for sensitive young men who didn't do sports in high school but to carry a room for a full hour you also need to be able to fight back. I could hear Nick's intonations in his voice. But it's clear that Mulldog spent all his creative energy this week ghostwriting the white guys' lines for the Roast of Kevin Hart and so Friedland was left to fend for himself, comedically. The mark of whether a comedian is delivering or not, for me, is whether I hold my piss in to keep hearing them. This was not the case on Saturday night. I recall stepping out and getting a good look at the crowd, and Friedland bumbling through his completely forgettable material, and thinking: this makes me feel like I could start stand up comedy today and dominate the genre. I have this instinct to say: Adam's young! He'll get better! But he's not. He won't. He's 39. He doesn't have the neuroplasticity. He crossed the Sensitive Young Man threshold ten years ago. Mulaney at 43 could be his father now. He's a "much better interviewer" apparently. I tuned out after Cumtown ended because frankly I don't give a shit about the middle east, and that's 90% of what he talks about. Different strokes. I asked some guy in the bathroom, mid-piss: "what would you rate this show, out of 10?" He said: ehh, like a 6. He's a much better interviewer. I don't hate Adam Friedland, I just wish there was anybody to be excited about in stand up comedy. Between this mens' magazine giving me a $500 stipend to "report" on all these shows and the $474 ticket to Gillis and the $432 ticket to Chappelle and the $741 ticket to Mulaney and all the drinks they make you buy at these things I'm feeling like a huge sunk cost leech on the world. Just taking people's money and using it to complain. At least my date seemed to be having a good time. I wrapped my hand around her low back and leaned into her head, wanting her but not sure how to say it. It's much easier to express that kind of thing on blow. Later that night I K-holed in public. Erica and I took way too much in the front seat of the van. We were outside a rave at 3 AM, they asked me to produce a QR code on my phone, I could barely stand. I felt like I was moving in 2D. The fat security guard barely flinched as I walked past him in slow heavy steps, like a penguin, marching into this densely fogged room with colorful lights and loud bumping trance music where all I could stand to do was lean against the heavily breathing walls. I tried to dance with the girl but it probably looked retarded. I didn't try to interact with anyone, I was too far gone. I thought of Karen, as I do every time I take K. The girl led me through the venue, as I worried I would fall over or walk straight into a wall. I worried about how bad this must look, how retarded I must look, wearing this huge XXL t-shirt tucked in to my pants that don't even fit that well because I have anterior pelvic tilt and no ass. I looked and felt like a clown. A failed clown. I was smiling painfully at Erica, looking down at her, and she was doing the same to me. We found a bathroom and I forced my way in. The ketamine was NOT wearing off. I felt my heart beating hard and my head spinning like I could have thrown up but there was nothing in my stomach besides liquid—no food all day besides a croissant at 2PM. I had downed some random person's red wine glass at the last bar. I worried it might have been spiked. I leaned with my head against the wall, sweating, wishing it would end, brutally aware that Erica's out there waiting for me, my friends are out there waiting for me, wondering if I'm okay, thinking he's too fucked up, he can't handle himself, I thought Thomas was always okay and always in control no matter what, they're losing confidence in me, they're losing confidence in themselves for associating with me, what is this big colorful retarded clown shirt I'm wearing I must look like such a fool right now I can't face these people, I can never face them ever again, my face must look so evil ugly and strained, I splash my face with water but it doesn't help, run it through my hair but it doesn't help, get the water all over my shirt but then it just looks like I threw up on myself or pissed myself or something, and I don't have another shirt, should I go out there shirtless, no that's worse, how am I ever going to leave this bathroom, why won't this K wear off, now Erica's calling me, texting me, are you okay, eventually they're just gonna bust in here I know, fine, I can do it, I'm opening the door, yes, I come out, she's still there, good, good girl. She leads me outside. I feel 10% better. I lead her straight to the van. We get in. I tell her to lay with me. Just like on the first night we met. Head spinning, chest heaving, completely exhausted, just lay with me. She asks are you okay and I say for the first time, no. No, I am actually not okay. I blame Adam Friedland. Overall rating: 4/10. Have Nick write your jokes or just stick to interviews.
0:19

Saturday - Adam Friedland This musical intro was the best part of the show. The rest of his act just made me miss Nick Mullen. Unlike every other show this week, there were girls there. They seem to love this guy. I used him as bait, to get the girl from Wednesday to go out with me again. She loves Red Scare Podcast and this Jewish twink is a staple of the Red Scare Extended Universe and I wanted to fuck her and so let's go see Adam Friedland. The problem with Adam is that he has no conviction. He does not own the room, he's just filling space. He announced that his father was there, in the crowd, which is great, let's hear something that might make your father uncomfortable. No such thing was said. He stared at the floor for half the set, as if he was sorry for being there. I saw Mulaney the night before; the difference was stark. Mulaney can get away with being a sheepish pushover twink Sometimes because he also has balls. He can accelerate from "Aw shucks" to "SHUCK YOU MOTHERSHUCKER" and both versions of himself feel true. Look, I get it, being a sad sorry pushover is his schtick and it works with the voice and it's very relatable for sensitive young men who didn't do sports in high school but to carry a room for a full hour you also need to be able to fight back. I could hear Nick's intonations in his voice. But it's clear that Mulldog spent all his creative energy this week ghostwriting the white guys' lines for the Roast of Kevin Hart and so Friedland was left to fend for himself, comedically. The mark of whether a comedian is delivering or not, for me, is whether I hold my piss in to keep hearing them. This was not the case on Saturday night. I recall stepping out and getting a good look at the crowd, and Friedland bumbling through his completely forgettable material, and thinking: this makes me feel like I could start stand up comedy today and dominate the genre. I have this instinct to say: Adam's young! He'll get better! But he's not. He won't. He's 39. He doesn't have the neuroplasticity. He crossed the Sensitive Young Man threshold ten years ago. Mulaney at 43 could be his father now. He's a "much better interviewer" apparently. I tuned out after Cumtown ended because frankly I don't give a shit about the middle east, and that's 90% of what he talks about. Different strokes. I asked some guy in the bathroom, mid-piss: "what would you rate this show, out of 10?" He said: ehh, like a 6. He's a much better interviewer. I don't hate Adam Friedland, I just wish there was anybody to be excited about in stand up comedy. Between this mens' magazine giving me a $500 stipend to "report" on all these shows and the $474 ticket to Gillis and the $432 ticket to Chappelle and the $741 ticket to Mulaney and all the drinks they make you buy at these things I'm feeling like a huge sunk cost leech on the world. Just taking people's money and using it to complain. At least my date seemed to be having a good time. I wrapped my hand around her low back and leaned into her head, wanting her but not sure how to say it. It's much easier to express that kind of thing on blow. Later that night I K-holed in public. Erica and I took way too much in the front seat of the van. We were outside a rave at 3 AM, they asked me to produce a QR code on my phone, I could barely stand. I felt like I was moving in 2D. The fat security guard barely flinched as I walked past him in slow heavy steps, like a penguin, marching into this densely fogged room with colorful lights and loud bumping trance music where all I could stand to do was lean against the heavily breathing walls. I tried to dance with the girl but it probably looked retarded. I didn't try to interact with anyone, I was too far gone. I thought of Karen, as I do every time I take K. The girl led me through the venue, as I worried I would fall over or walk straight into a wall. I worried about how bad this must look, how retarded I must look, wearing this huge XXL t-shirt tucked in to my pants that don't even fit that well because I have anterior pelvic tilt and no ass. I looked and felt like a clown. A failed clown. I was smiling painfully at Erica, looking down at her, and she was doing the same to me. We found a bathroom and I forced my way in. The ketamine was NOT wearing off. I felt my heart beating hard and my head spinning like I could have thrown up but there was nothing in my stomach besides liquid—no food all day besides a croissant at 2PM. I had downed some random person's red wine glass at the last bar. I worried it might have been spiked. I leaned with my head against the wall, sweating, wishing it would end, brutally aware that Erica's out there waiting for me, my friends are out there waiting for me, wondering if I'm okay, thinking he's too fucked up, he can't handle himself, I thought Thomas was always okay and always in control no matter what, they're losing confidence in me, they're losing confidence in themselves for associating with me, what is this big colorful retarded clown shirt I'm wearing I must look like such a fool right now I can't face these people, I can never face them ever again, my face must look so evil ugly and strained, I splash my face with water but it doesn't help, run it through my hair but it doesn't help, get the water all over my shirt but then it just looks like I threw up on myself or pissed myself or something, and I don't have another shirt, should I go out there shirtless, no that's worse, how am I ever going to leave this bathroom, why won't this K wear off, now Erica's calling me, texting me, are you okay, eventually they're just gonna bust in here I know, fine, I can do it, I'm opening the door, yes, I come out, she's still there, good, good girl. She leads me outside. I feel 10% better. I lead her straight to the van. We get in. I tell her to lay with me. Just like on the first night we met. Head spinning, chest heaving, completely exhausted, just lay with me. She asks are you okay and I say for the first time, no. No, I am actually not okay. I blame Adam Friedland. Overall rating: 4/10. Have Nick write your jokes or just stick to interviews.

Worst Boyfriend Ever

98,086 次观看 • 3 个月前

Hello Uganda Police Force and Kituuma Rusoke. What kind of offense do I commit by recording such a video in my own country?. If there’s no any law broken I would like to cooperate with you and hunt down fellow civilians that coordinate with police officers who operate from that area of footbridge to create discomfort with in Ugandans. This came to my attention when I was brutalized by one officer and two gentlemen(I still recall their faces) just because I recorded that video from up there! Upon bringing me down, they intimidated me that am a terrorist. They immediately took me to a police officer whom I think he heads this gang. The police officer immediately said I should give out 100k if not I will be taken to police post and be charged with terrorism. He later said if I can’t get 100k I should get 60k and leave before other officers arrive! After heated arguments, the two gentlemen and an officer ended up saying i should give out 30k. NOW: my question is; why would a police officer negotiate with a terrorist If I was truly one like they claimed?! 🥹 That’s total insecurity if I can say. A lot of Ugandans are slightly suffering in that place day and night! Please do the needful and end this brutality That incidence happened between 1700hrs and 1719hrs. Check in the CCTV cameras and look at the gentleman who was putting on a white kanzu and black jacket(that was me) I can recall another officer with a name tag Busingye though he was not part of the gang but he can lead us to them. Thanks for your attention
0:13

Hello Uganda Police Force and Kituuma Rusoke. What kind of offense do I commit by recording such a video in my own country?. If there’s no any law broken I would like to cooperate with you and hunt down fellow civilians that coordinate with police officers who operate from that area of footbridge to create discomfort with in Ugandans. This came to my attention when I was brutalized by one officer and two gentlemen(I still recall their faces) just because I recorded that video from up there! Upon bringing me down, they intimidated me that am a terrorist. They immediately took me to a police officer whom I think he heads this gang. The police officer immediately said I should give out 100k if not I will be taken to police post and be charged with terrorism. He later said if I can’t get 100k I should get 60k and leave before other officers arrive! After heated arguments, the two gentlemen and an officer ended up saying i should give out 30k. NOW: my question is; why would a police officer negotiate with a terrorist If I was truly one like they claimed?! 🥹 That’s total insecurity if I can say. A lot of Ugandans are slightly suffering in that place day and night! Please do the needful and end this brutality That incidence happened between 1700hrs and 1719hrs. Check in the CCTV cameras and look at the gentleman who was putting on a white kanzu and black jacket(that was me) I can recall another officer with a name tag Busingye though he was not part of the gang but he can lead us to them. Thanks for your attention

Adil Migadde ⚡

23,253 次观看 • 4 个月前

THE DREW PAVLOU ORIGIN STORY: My haters only know me from my past year of tweeting. You have no idea how funny my actual origin story is. This is the story of how I accidentally caused an international political incident between China and Australia at the age of 20. I recorded that video of my Dad yelling at me the night before my first ever anti-CCP protest back in 2019. My Dad had just learned dozens of Chinese guys on Facebook were promising to kill me if I held a pro-Hong Kong protest at my university. So my Dad was yelling: “DREW, KEEP A FARKING LOW PROFILE!!!” I am a great son but I admit I am one of the most annoying people in the world today (top 0.0001 percentile). So the next day my Dad opened Facebook to find me giving interviews to international press as police helicopters flew over my university campus in midst of major standoff between our group of 30 anti-CCP activists and 500 pro-CCP thugs. This was June 2019. My 20th birthday marked the 30th anniversary of Tiananmen. Hong Kong was kicking off. I’d been reading about the persecution of Uyghurs and Tibetans. I became obsessed. I didn’t even know a single Uyghur or Hong Konger at first, I was just having orientalist white boy/autistic political fixation moment. I would read articles about it every day for hours and ultimately decided I had to do something. I had completely pure, noble intentions. No money, no CIA/State Department backing, just extremely enthusiastic white boy political autism. Like, I had taught myself 20 words in Cantonese so I could sing the Hong Kong protest songs. I even called it the “FREE HONG KONG FREE XINJIANG RALLY” because at this time I didn’t know Uyghurs hate the term “Xinjiang” (it means “New Territories” in Chinese) 😂 I had no experience with media, no experience protesting. I just knew how to be annoying. So I organised 20 of my friends and planned campus protest for Market Day, the busiest day of the year at the University of Queensland (UQ), the biggest uni in our state. I picked the busiest walkway at UQ and decided we would hold 30 minute sit-in chanting protest slogans against Xi Jinping. We didn’t know this at the time but UQ had perhaps the deepest economic and political ties with China out of any university in the English speaking world. 20 per cent of UQ’s budget came from Chinese international students. 9000 Chinese international students paying approximately $300 million a year. The Chinese government directly funded courses on campus through the UQ Confucius Institute and these courses taught that Hong Konger protesters and Uyghurs were terrorists. We had Chinese academics affiliated with the UQ Confucius Institute studying high tech weapons technologies, we had research institutes on campus helping to develop engines for PLA fighter jets. The Chinese government gave a medal to our university president Peter Høj for promoting Confucius Institutes worldwide and we later found out he was receiving a secret $200K bonus each year for deepening ties with China. And this wasn’t even scratching the surface. The youngest guy ever appointed professor at UQ was a bloke called Heng Tao Shen and he used Australian government research funding to develop AI technology that he then took to China to be deployed against Uyghurs in surveillance. So this was the combustible environment we were unwittingly stepping into. Chinese ultra-nationalists found our protest event on Facebook a couple nights before and started bombarding us with hundreds of death threats. They said they would rape my mother and kill me. I am Greek Australian man with hot Mediterranean blood, I couldn’t take this lying down. I searched “insults in Mandarin” on Google, I sent back the Chinese characters for “Fuck your ancestors to the 18th generation.” I think this was the point at which my Dad started yelling at me. The next day 500 Chinese ultranationalist counter-protesters rocked up. You can watch what happened
0:39

THE DREW PAVLOU ORIGIN STORY: My haters only know me from my past year of tweeting. You have no idea how funny my actual origin story is. This is the story of how I accidentally caused an international political incident between China and Australia at the age of 20. I recorded that video of my Dad yelling at me the night before my first ever anti-CCP protest back in 2019. My Dad had just learned dozens of Chinese guys on Facebook were promising to kill me if I held a pro-Hong Kong protest at my university. So my Dad was yelling: “DREW, KEEP A FARKING LOW PROFILE!!!” I am a great son but I admit I am one of the most annoying people in the world today (top 0.0001 percentile). So the next day my Dad opened Facebook to find me giving interviews to international press as police helicopters flew over my university campus in midst of major standoff between our group of 30 anti-CCP activists and 500 pro-CCP thugs. This was June 2019. My 20th birthday marked the 30th anniversary of Tiananmen. Hong Kong was kicking off. I’d been reading about the persecution of Uyghurs and Tibetans. I became obsessed. I didn’t even know a single Uyghur or Hong Konger at first, I was just having orientalist white boy/autistic political fixation moment. I would read articles about it every day for hours and ultimately decided I had to do something. I had completely pure, noble intentions. No money, no CIA/State Department backing, just extremely enthusiastic white boy political autism. Like, I had taught myself 20 words in Cantonese so I could sing the Hong Kong protest songs. I even called it the “FREE HONG KONG FREE XINJIANG RALLY” because at this time I didn’t know Uyghurs hate the term “Xinjiang” (it means “New Territories” in Chinese) 😂 I had no experience with media, no experience protesting. I just knew how to be annoying. So I organised 20 of my friends and planned campus protest for Market Day, the busiest day of the year at the University of Queensland (UQ), the biggest uni in our state. I picked the busiest walkway at UQ and decided we would hold 30 minute sit-in chanting protest slogans against Xi Jinping. We didn’t know this at the time but UQ had perhaps the deepest economic and political ties with China out of any university in the English speaking world. 20 per cent of UQ’s budget came from Chinese international students. 9000 Chinese international students paying approximately $300 million a year. The Chinese government directly funded courses on campus through the UQ Confucius Institute and these courses taught that Hong Konger protesters and Uyghurs were terrorists. We had Chinese academics affiliated with the UQ Confucius Institute studying high tech weapons technologies, we had research institutes on campus helping to develop engines for PLA fighter jets. The Chinese government gave a medal to our university president Peter Høj for promoting Confucius Institutes worldwide and we later found out he was receiving a secret $200K bonus each year for deepening ties with China. And this wasn’t even scratching the surface. The youngest guy ever appointed professor at UQ was a bloke called Heng Tao Shen and he used Australian government research funding to develop AI technology that he then took to China to be deployed against Uyghurs in surveillance. So this was the combustible environment we were unwittingly stepping into. Chinese ultra-nationalists found our protest event on Facebook a couple nights before and started bombarding us with hundreds of death threats. They said they would rape my mother and kill me. I am Greek Australian man with hot Mediterranean blood, I couldn’t take this lying down. I searched “insults in Mandarin” on Google, I sent back the Chinese characters for “Fuck your ancestors to the 18th generation.” I think this was the point at which my Dad started yelling at me. The next day 500 Chinese ultranationalist counter-protesters rocked up. You can watch what happened

Drew Pavlou 🇦🇺🇺🇸🇺🇦🇹🇼

137,389 次观看 • 1 年前

🚨 There’s been a lot of debate about whether the Conor McGregor fight was fixed… I was there. I saw everything. Here’s my take. I filmed the two videos below as he walked into and out of the stadium. (Definitely take a second to watch them) What alarmed me the most about the first video was that there was no joy, excitement, or confidence as he headed toward the Octagon. As he walked into the sea of people, there ZERO percent hope in his eyes; complete deadpan. We all grew up watching Conor hype himself up before battle. That was NOT the Conor we’ve come to know. I’ve watched Conor make that walk dozens of times over the years. The swagger, the grin, the confidence; it was non existent. That’s what IMMEDIATELY caught my attention. The second I saw him, I knew was going to lose. This was his first UFC fight in five years, yet there was zero hope in his eyes? Just a completely blank expression? After all that 💩 talk? Really? To me, he looked like someone who already knew something wasn’t right. Whether it was his body, his preparation, or both, his energy was completely different. The second video shows him WALK back to the locker room. Yes, without a noticeable limp, he WALKED back with that same hopeless look in his eyes. I know 10+ people who have blown out ACLs, and none of them were casually walking around minutes later. That made me think one of two things: He already knew he was dealing with a serious injury, and that kick simply made it much worse. OR He straight up lied about his health, and planned to do a wild kick to blame the injury on in order to cash the check Regardless, it’s unfortunate how it ended. The highest selling gate in UFC history ended up being one of the biggest letdowns the sport has ever seen. Growing up means watching your heroes become human. I sincerely hope Conor continues his spiritual journey with Jesus, gets back to 100%, and returns one more time because we’d all still pay to see it. Shout out to Paddy for saving the night. What do you think? Do you believe Conor knew about the injury before the fight? Do you believe his tweet? Let me know your thoughts in the comments. 👇🏼
0:19

🚨 There’s been a lot of debate about whether the Conor McGregor fight was fixed… I was there. I saw everything. Here’s my take. I filmed the two videos below as he walked into and out of the stadium. (Definitely take a second to watch them) What alarmed me the most about the first video was that there was no joy, excitement, or confidence as he headed toward the Octagon. As he walked into the sea of people, there ZERO percent hope in his eyes; complete deadpan. We all grew up watching Conor hype himself up before battle. That was NOT the Conor we’ve come to know. I’ve watched Conor make that walk dozens of times over the years. The swagger, the grin, the confidence; it was non existent. That’s what IMMEDIATELY caught my attention. The second I saw him, I knew was going to lose. This was his first UFC fight in five years, yet there was zero hope in his eyes? Just a completely blank expression? After all that 💩 talk? Really? To me, he looked like someone who already knew something wasn’t right. Whether it was his body, his preparation, or both, his energy was completely different. The second video shows him WALK back to the locker room. Yes, without a noticeable limp, he WALKED back with that same hopeless look in his eyes. I know 10+ people who have blown out ACLs, and none of them were casually walking around minutes later. That made me think one of two things: He already knew he was dealing with a serious injury, and that kick simply made it much worse. OR He straight up lied about his health, and planned to do a wild kick to blame the injury on in order to cash the check Regardless, it’s unfortunate how it ended. The highest selling gate in UFC history ended up being one of the biggest letdowns the sport has ever seen. Growing up means watching your heroes become human. I sincerely hope Conor continues his spiritual journey with Jesus, gets back to 100%, and returns one more time because we’d all still pay to see it. Shout out to Paddy for saving the night. What do you think? Do you believe Conor knew about the injury before the fight? Do you believe his tweet? Let me know your thoughts in the comments. 👇🏼

Aj

338,228 次观看 • 1 个月前

This will be a long read, but I truly hope it inspires someone. I only wish I had kept more memories honestly… Today marks one year since I moved into my own home after squatting with a family friend for two years. That period remains one of the greatest favors I have ever received in my life. They didn’t take me in as a stranger they welcomed me as a daughter, treated me as one, and even now, here in Abuja, they are my family. Today, I live in a solid two-bedroom flat in Abuja, fully furnished to my taste. I’m living a life I once only prayed for, eating well, living well all courtesy of design and Web3. This same skill once earned me ₦2,000… ₦5,000. I can never forget messaging almost every contact on my WhatsApp, begging them to let me design for free. I went from business to business around my school area, offering free designs. I even designed my school handbook for free just to put myself out there. With this same skill, I met people I once admired from afar. I was willing to design for free just to earn a tag, a shout-out, and the visibility I desperately needed. There were times I slept in school just to use the school Wi-Fi to watch YouTube tutorials, especially from Mez Graphics. Sleeping in school became a lifestyle and it came at a cost. My health suffered deeply. I went through serious health crises because I couldn’t afford medication. Home was tough. Really tough. While others slept like humans, for four years in school I averaged two hours of sleep daily, juggling academics and survival. My health paid the price. I developed growths in both eyes that now require surgery, and my eyesight deteriorated so badly that I can’t function without my glasses. Yet today, this same skill has elevated my family. From living in a single room with five kids in a rented apartment, to my mum bring a landlord. A woman who used to fall sick frequently now lives healthier, eats whatever she wants, and glows differently. Poverty truly stinks but grace changed our story. The store she owns today? Courtesy of this skill and Web3. Every property I own my store, my home, everything came through design and Web3. This same skill funds my lifestyle. This same skill, backed by God, has elevated me beyond words. I could go on and on… This is me telling someone inspiring someone not to give up on that skill you have, no matter what it is, especially as a creative. I slept on YouTube for years because I couldn’t afford to pay for a single course. I used that knowledge to design for free sometimes for one, two, even three years just to build visibility. Today, I invest as much as ₦2 million yearly into learning., i invest heavily ngl If all you can afford right now is YouTube, be diligent with it. Mez Graphics and Caesar played huge roles in my journey, and I truly hope they see this. I am 100% grateful to them. In a nutshell: don’t give up on your skill. Keep refining it. Keep studying. Keep aspiring to be part of the top 1%. See you at the top If you read this far, thank you so much for reading 🫂
0:56

This will be a long read, but I truly hope it inspires someone. I only wish I had kept more memories honestly… Today marks one year since I moved into my own home after squatting with a family friend for two years. That period remains one of the greatest favors I have ever received in my life. They didn’t take me in as a stranger they welcomed me as a daughter, treated me as one, and even now, here in Abuja, they are my family. Today, I live in a solid two-bedroom flat in Abuja, fully furnished to my taste. I’m living a life I once only prayed for, eating well, living well all courtesy of design and Web3. This same skill once earned me ₦2,000… ₦5,000. I can never forget messaging almost every contact on my WhatsApp, begging them to let me design for free. I went from business to business around my school area, offering free designs. I even designed my school handbook for free just to put myself out there. With this same skill, I met people I once admired from afar. I was willing to design for free just to earn a tag, a shout-out, and the visibility I desperately needed. There were times I slept in school just to use the school Wi-Fi to watch YouTube tutorials, especially from Mez Graphics. Sleeping in school became a lifestyle and it came at a cost. My health suffered deeply. I went through serious health crises because I couldn’t afford medication. Home was tough. Really tough. While others slept like humans, for four years in school I averaged two hours of sleep daily, juggling academics and survival. My health paid the price. I developed growths in both eyes that now require surgery, and my eyesight deteriorated so badly that I can’t function without my glasses. Yet today, this same skill has elevated my family. From living in a single room with five kids in a rented apartment, to my mum bring a landlord. A woman who used to fall sick frequently now lives healthier, eats whatever she wants, and glows differently. Poverty truly stinks but grace changed our story. The store she owns today? Courtesy of this skill and Web3. Every property I own my store, my home, everything came through design and Web3. This same skill funds my lifestyle. This same skill, backed by God, has elevated me beyond words. I could go on and on… This is me telling someone inspiring someone not to give up on that skill you have, no matter what it is, especially as a creative. I slept on YouTube for years because I couldn’t afford to pay for a single course. I used that knowledge to design for free sometimes for one, two, even three years just to build visibility. Today, I invest as much as ₦2 million yearly into learning., i invest heavily ngl If all you can afford right now is YouTube, be diligent with it. Mez Graphics and Caesar played huge roles in my journey, and I truly hope they see this. I am 100% grateful to them. In a nutshell: don’t give up on your skill. Keep refining it. Keep studying. Keep aspiring to be part of the top 1%. See you at the top If you read this far, thank you so much for reading 🫂

OLOBA THE ARTIST🐂🀄️

26,735 次观看 • 6 个月前

I just sold my startup Talknotes for $200,000 on acquire.com 💸🤯🤩💰🥳🎉 I launched it last August when I was looking for an idea I could grow with paid ads, and made a MVP in one week. I took it from $0 to $7500 MRR in just 11 months. 👉 Here is how I grew it from zero: 💡 Idea: I got the idea when I tried to write a tweet using Google Doc's transcription tool, but it was terrible. And I was pretty sure I wasn't the one too lazy to type. So I made my own solution, and Talknotes was created. The audience is pretty broad so it was a perfect fit for Meta ads However… ✅ Validation: My rule is to only reinvest what the project generates, so, no ads until I make enough cashflow ❌ Listing on startup directories + a few Twitter sales generated $700 after 10 days. Yes, it's not much, but more than enough to show there is interest in the product and tell me to keep working on it 🤩 I started adding the features users requested, but the launch effect started to wear off and daily revenues quickly went to $0 after a few weeks 🫥 I got depressed and almost gave up on the app... 😔 But luckily, my friends and Dan Kulkov pushed me to continue And I'm glad they did because In October, I launched on Product Hunt 😸 and it blew up 🤯 It got Product of the Day and reached $1500 MRR thanks to the media coverage 🚀🚀 Until then, everything was done using vanilla JS/CSS/HTML + Node for back end. It's simple and easy, but I saw the limitations, so I remade the app using Nuxt to make it easier in the future 🏗️ (thanks to @blackevilgoblin and Piotr Jura for the content/courses! Tim Bennetto as well for the basics!) After that, I took a break and then launched ads on Facebook. The strategy is simple: Catch people's attention, and show them how the app can help them improve their life. No need to over-complicate 🙅‍♂️ Making good creatives is 80% of the job when doing ads on Facebook, most of the technical stuff is done by AI now. Thanks to the boost in traffic, I implemented a feedback loop: 1) Get new users 👥 2) Learn to know them with the onboarding form 💬 3) Make more ads based on the data you get from onboarding 📝 And it completely blew up. MRR doubled in ~2 months However... In May, I had a bad burnout 🥵😩 Multiple bugs slipped into the app, and I had to spend 2 days fixing everything in an emergency while revenues plummeted. This completely fucked me up mentally and had a hard time working on the app after that ( 💀💀 So I decided to list it on acquire.com and made a Twitter post ( I listed it for $200,000, a pretty low price considering the revenues and fast growth. I could have gotten $300,000 if I accepted payment over time, but $200,000 today is better than $300,000 tomorrow for me. 🚨 The process went smoothly until we tried to use Escrow, which almost fucked up the whole deal. (details: I got extremely lucky because the buyer really wanted to buy the app, but this could have ended the deal. We had to wait over a week to get the money back from them, even tho they said they already refunded it. But luckily, after threatening them, they sent it back the next day 🙃 The buyer finally got the money back, I transferred every asset to him, and he sent me the wire. With the profit made from the app + the sale, and other projects, I'm 30% away from being a millionaire 🤯 With this amount, I can pretty much retire in Asia if I want to. But that's just the beginning, I’m going to launch new projects soon! 🚀 But before that, I need to take a real vacation and detox. My brain is completely fucked up by those last 2 months. I gained weight, and got brain rot from scrolling all day waiting for the acquisition to move forward 💀💀 Surprisingly, doing absolutely nothing is 10x more exhausting than working 15h per day 🥱 Now, all this might sound like an overnight success. It is not ‼️ This is the result of 7 years of failure and working like a madman. I launched over 40 projects in those 7 years, and most of them failed. But a few took off, and that’s all I needed All those weeks working 15h/day without weekends and vacation feels soul-sucking when you don’t see the end, but this is what took me there You only need to win once to snowball everything. Work hard, focus, fail a lot and keep shipping fast. 🚀🚀 Thanks to you for reading until here, and thanks to everyone who supported me 🤞
0:10

I just sold my startup Talknotes for $200,000 on acquire.com 💸🤯🤩💰🥳🎉 I launched it last August when I was looking for an idea I could grow with paid ads, and made a MVP in one week. I took it from $0 to $7500 MRR in just 11 months. 👉 Here is how I grew it from zero: 💡 Idea: I got the idea when I tried to write a tweet using Google Doc's transcription tool, but it was terrible. And I was pretty sure I wasn't the one too lazy to type. So I made my own solution, and Talknotes was created. The audience is pretty broad so it was a perfect fit for Meta ads However… ✅ Validation: My rule is to only reinvest what the project generates, so, no ads until I make enough cashflow ❌ Listing on startup directories + a few Twitter sales generated $700 after 10 days. Yes, it's not much, but more than enough to show there is interest in the product and tell me to keep working on it 🤩 I started adding the features users requested, but the launch effect started to wear off and daily revenues quickly went to $0 after a few weeks 🫥 I got depressed and almost gave up on the app... 😔 But luckily, my friends and Dan Kulkov pushed me to continue And I'm glad they did because In October, I launched on Product Hunt 😸 and it blew up 🤯 It got Product of the Day and reached $1500 MRR thanks to the media coverage 🚀🚀 Until then, everything was done using vanilla JS/CSS/HTML + Node for back end. It's simple and easy, but I saw the limitations, so I remade the app using Nuxt to make it easier in the future 🏗️ (thanks to @blackevilgoblin and Piotr Jura for the content/courses! Tim Bennetto as well for the basics!) After that, I took a break and then launched ads on Facebook. The strategy is simple: Catch people's attention, and show them how the app can help them improve their life. No need to over-complicate 🙅‍♂️ Making good creatives is 80% of the job when doing ads on Facebook, most of the technical stuff is done by AI now. Thanks to the boost in traffic, I implemented a feedback loop: 1) Get new users 👥 2) Learn to know them with the onboarding form 💬 3) Make more ads based on the data you get from onboarding 📝 And it completely blew up. MRR doubled in ~2 months However... In May, I had a bad burnout 🥵😩 Multiple bugs slipped into the app, and I had to spend 2 days fixing everything in an emergency while revenues plummeted. This completely fucked me up mentally and had a hard time working on the app after that ( 💀💀 So I decided to list it on acquire.com and made a Twitter post ( I listed it for $200,000, a pretty low price considering the revenues and fast growth. I could have gotten $300,000 if I accepted payment over time, but $200,000 today is better than $300,000 tomorrow for me. 🚨 The process went smoothly until we tried to use Escrow, which almost fucked up the whole deal. (details: I got extremely lucky because the buyer really wanted to buy the app, but this could have ended the deal. We had to wait over a week to get the money back from them, even tho they said they already refunded it. But luckily, after threatening them, they sent it back the next day 🙃 The buyer finally got the money back, I transferred every asset to him, and he sent me the wire. With the profit made from the app + the sale, and other projects, I'm 30% away from being a millionaire 🤯 With this amount, I can pretty much retire in Asia if I want to. But that's just the beginning, I’m going to launch new projects soon! 🚀 But before that, I need to take a real vacation and detox. My brain is completely fucked up by those last 2 months. I gained weight, and got brain rot from scrolling all day waiting for the acquisition to move forward 💀💀 Surprisingly, doing absolutely nothing is 10x more exhausting than working 15h per day 🥱 Now, all this might sound like an overnight success. It is not ‼️ This is the result of 7 years of failure and working like a madman. I launched over 40 projects in those 7 years, and most of them failed. But a few took off, and that’s all I needed All those weeks working 15h/day without weekends and vacation feels soul-sucking when you don’t see the end, but this is what took me there You only need to win once to snowball everything. Work hard, focus, fail a lot and keep shipping fast. 🚀🚀 Thanks to you for reading until here, and thanks to everyone who supported me 🤞

Nico

458,171 次观看 • 2 年前

EXODUS: Help Darren Stallcup Move Out Of San Francisco After dedicating the best years of my life to save San Francisco, I have made the heartbreaking decision to leave this great beautiful city behind. I did the best that I could every day and I know so many honest good caring San Franciscans out there are hurting just as much as I am and I've met so many of you who desperately want the same healing and recovery for this city that I do... The truth is... the daily chaos, lawlessness and human suffering on our streets are not accidents but a deliberate result of a cruel, sick game engineered by corrupt politicians and non-profits who benefit from the suffering of the less fortunate. I don't hate everyone who votes differently or works in non-profits... there are plenty of decent people trying to help, but far too many bad apples in the Democratic party are working hand-in-hand with these organizations to keep the crisis alive. I'm infuriated by this broken, predatory system that devastates the vulnerable, attacks those trying to help and enriches those who have blood on their hands... all on the taxpayers dime. That's why I'm done playing along and refusing to sacrifice my life to their endless failure. Yet even as I leave, I'll never stop fighting for the less fortunate by demanding secure treatment beds, real enforcement against fentanyl dealers and sober housing that actually saves lives instead of enabling death. I can continue my art, music and citizen journalism in another city that is cleaner, safer and dare I say more friendlier to me, a conservative Patriot who loves our great beautiful country. Day and Night I walked these streets up and down the block, handing out food, clothing and blankets to the less fortunate while listening to their stories. Through citizen journalism, I documented the homeless crisis on the ground, sharing videos and photos to raise awareness. I spoke passionately at City Hall meetings, demanding accountability from leaders who seemed indifferent. I appeared on national and international television to share my story with the world about the fentanyl genocide devastating our city. Today, with a heavy heart, I regret to inform our community that I am relocating to a safer area outside San Francisco. I can no longer tolerate the chaos and stress of day to day survival in this city. It has taken an undeniable toll on my physical, mental and spiritual well being. Our corrupt and incompetent local and state leaders have deliberately enabled chaos on San Francisco's streets, creating a perpetual crisis that funnels billions of taxpayer dollars into the hands of corrupt non-profits and organizations. These entities thrive on the suffering of the less fortunate, profiting from endless contracts for shelters, outreach programs and harm-reduction initiatives that fail to reduce harm or homelessness. Harm reduction is causing more harm. Progressive policy is making everything progressively worse. I am done being a guinea pig in their social experiment. Year after year, billions have been spent, yet the humanitarian crisis has only worsened, with more tents, more overdoses, and more despair. Fentanyl overdoses are on the rise, homelessness numbers are climbing and our public spaces have all but deteriorated, all while the same politicians get elected year after year. It is a calculated system of human suffering and I am done living through the nightmare every single day. I've been documenting the truth about San Francisco's streets for years, but as I prepare to leave for good, this frontline perspective might go with me unless I am able to find a nice small town where I can continue my work from afar. If my story has ever opened your eyes or fueled your fight, I ask you to show love to my journey. My work in our community began with a deep compassion for those suffering on the streets and I poured my energy into helping the homeless directly. My home burned down to the ground, I know what it's like to have nothing and work your way up from rock bottom. Every day, more people overdose and more people show up in San Francisco from all over the country. It's a never ending cycle. I have lost too many family and friends and I refuse to be next. I am profoundly tired of the fentanyl genocide that has turned my once beloved city into a hell hole. I have seen one too many open air drug markets, claiming thousands of lives each year. The drug dealers operating freely, the human feces and needles littering streets and sidewalks, the judges letting the fentanyl dealers out of jail, the fentanyl showing up on playgrounds and in schools, the women giving birth on the sidewalk, the still born babies found in port-o-pottys, the people jumping off of buildings, the people living in the sewers, the non-stop every day looting of our grocery store, the robbery of our local restaurants, the targeting of our mom-and-pop shops, the risk of riding public transportation, the waking up to burglars kicking in my door and fighting them off, the sound of going to sleep to people screaming and waking up to emergency sirens, the billion dollar tech offices and third world conditions across the streets, the constant threat of The Big Earthquake, power outages, infrastructure breakdown, skyrocketing cost of living, it's all become unbearable. Homeless encampments blocking public spaces, the high risk of fentanyl exposure and rampant property crime have eroded any sense of normalcy. Personal safety threats from erratic behavior, boarded-up stores and political hostility weigh heavily on me. I no longer desire or wish to endure these heartbreaking struggles. Building a life for myself, let alone a family, in this decay, is almost impossible. The frustration with leftist policies enabling open drug scenes, health risks from biohazards and store closures reducing access to essentials has taken its toll. I have personally witnessed at least a dozen grocery stores close down and my heart is broken as I wonder if I am slowly living in a food desert because of rampant, unchecked crime. They defunded the police and the judge releases criminals out of jail the next day. I am sick and tired of fighting off the same bad guys every day. The Urban decay is not just in areas like the Tenderloin, SOMA and Union Square, but all over the city. The difficulty in regular social life is noticeable and everybody is on guard making human connection even more challenging unless you are a millionaire. I walk into small businesses, stores and restaurants and all the workers are on edge wondering what chaos will happen that day. Tourists ask me what is happening to the city? All I do is shake my head. This is not the San Francisco I grew up in. My City has become unrecognizable. The Full House Days are long gone and it will take years, if not generations, for San Francisco to recover from all the damage done. Years of frontline activism without any city wide solutions have left me absolutely drained. Every day feels like the same nightmare, repeating the same chaos day after day without end. I don't want my life trapped in this cycle of sirens, screams and unchecked decline. It's time to step away from this chaos. I do not want to die here. The threats to personal safety, the constant exposure to violence and humanitarian crisis has become too much for one lifetime. I shouldn't have PTSD from living in San Francisco, but I do. Honestly, we all have survivor's guilt. I refuse to let this environment claim my future or my dreams. Relocating means saving my health, mental well being, spirituality and opportunity to thrive elsewhere. No more waking up and counting the bodies on the sidewalks or navigating hazards just to live daily life. I deserve a chance to build without the shadow of this humanitarian crisis looming over everything. I've sacrificed my personal health, safety and years of my life on the frontlines for the vulnerable while our local leaders profited from their pain... now, to keep fighting, I have to leave everything behind and start over. If this battle has ever meant something to you, please do consider supporting. As I pursue my American dreams in a new place, I carry the lessons from San Francisco with me forever. I will always cherish the memories and good times. This city will always have a place in my heart. San Francisco is my hometown. I continue advocating for change from afar, but with renewed energy in a safer environment. This move allows me to build a stable life, free from the nightmare that has defined too many years of life. Thank you to all my family and friends that have supported my work, I fought valiantly but now it is time for a tactical retreat. My time in the trenches, on the frontlines are over. I can't believe I made it out alive. Here's to new beginnings and the hope that one day, San Francisco heals.
0:18

EXODUS: Help Darren Stallcup Move Out Of San Francisco After dedicating the best years of my life to save San Francisco, I have made the heartbreaking decision to leave this great beautiful city behind. I did the best that I could every day and I know so many honest good caring San Franciscans out there are hurting just as much as I am and I've met so many of you who desperately want the same healing and recovery for this city that I do... The truth is... the daily chaos, lawlessness and human suffering on our streets are not accidents but a deliberate result of a cruel, sick game engineered by corrupt politicians and non-profits who benefit from the suffering of the less fortunate. I don't hate everyone who votes differently or works in non-profits... there are plenty of decent people trying to help, but far too many bad apples in the Democratic party are working hand-in-hand with these organizations to keep the crisis alive. I'm infuriated by this broken, predatory system that devastates the vulnerable, attacks those trying to help and enriches those who have blood on their hands... all on the taxpayers dime. That's why I'm done playing along and refusing to sacrifice my life to their endless failure. Yet even as I leave, I'll never stop fighting for the less fortunate by demanding secure treatment beds, real enforcement against fentanyl dealers and sober housing that actually saves lives instead of enabling death. I can continue my art, music and citizen journalism in another city that is cleaner, safer and dare I say more friendlier to me, a conservative Patriot who loves our great beautiful country. Day and Night I walked these streets up and down the block, handing out food, clothing and blankets to the less fortunate while listening to their stories. Through citizen journalism, I documented the homeless crisis on the ground, sharing videos and photos to raise awareness. I spoke passionately at City Hall meetings, demanding accountability from leaders who seemed indifferent. I appeared on national and international television to share my story with the world about the fentanyl genocide devastating our city. Today, with a heavy heart, I regret to inform our community that I am relocating to a safer area outside San Francisco. I can no longer tolerate the chaos and stress of day to day survival in this city. It has taken an undeniable toll on my physical, mental and spiritual well being. Our corrupt and incompetent local and state leaders have deliberately enabled chaos on San Francisco's streets, creating a perpetual crisis that funnels billions of taxpayer dollars into the hands of corrupt non-profits and organizations. These entities thrive on the suffering of the less fortunate, profiting from endless contracts for shelters, outreach programs and harm-reduction initiatives that fail to reduce harm or homelessness. Harm reduction is causing more harm. Progressive policy is making everything progressively worse. I am done being a guinea pig in their social experiment. Year after year, billions have been spent, yet the humanitarian crisis has only worsened, with more tents, more overdoses, and more despair. Fentanyl overdoses are on the rise, homelessness numbers are climbing and our public spaces have all but deteriorated, all while the same politicians get elected year after year. It is a calculated system of human suffering and I am done living through the nightmare every single day. I've been documenting the truth about San Francisco's streets for years, but as I prepare to leave for good, this frontline perspective might go with me unless I am able to find a nice small town where I can continue my work from afar. If my story has ever opened your eyes or fueled your fight, I ask you to show love to my journey. My work in our community began with a deep compassion for those suffering on the streets and I poured my energy into helping the homeless directly. My home burned down to the ground, I know what it's like to have nothing and work your way up from rock bottom. Every day, more people overdose and more people show up in San Francisco from all over the country. It's a never ending cycle. I have lost too many family and friends and I refuse to be next. I am profoundly tired of the fentanyl genocide that has turned my once beloved city into a hell hole. I have seen one too many open air drug markets, claiming thousands of lives each year. The drug dealers operating freely, the human feces and needles littering streets and sidewalks, the judges letting the fentanyl dealers out of jail, the fentanyl showing up on playgrounds and in schools, the women giving birth on the sidewalk, the still born babies found in port-o-pottys, the people jumping off of buildings, the people living in the sewers, the non-stop every day looting of our grocery store, the robbery of our local restaurants, the targeting of our mom-and-pop shops, the risk of riding public transportation, the waking up to burglars kicking in my door and fighting them off, the sound of going to sleep to people screaming and waking up to emergency sirens, the billion dollar tech offices and third world conditions across the streets, the constant threat of The Big Earthquake, power outages, infrastructure breakdown, skyrocketing cost of living, it's all become unbearable. Homeless encampments blocking public spaces, the high risk of fentanyl exposure and rampant property crime have eroded any sense of normalcy. Personal safety threats from erratic behavior, boarded-up stores and political hostility weigh heavily on me. I no longer desire or wish to endure these heartbreaking struggles. Building a life for myself, let alone a family, in this decay, is almost impossible. The frustration with leftist policies enabling open drug scenes, health risks from biohazards and store closures reducing access to essentials has taken its toll. I have personally witnessed at least a dozen grocery stores close down and my heart is broken as I wonder if I am slowly living in a food desert because of rampant, unchecked crime. They defunded the police and the judge releases criminals out of jail the next day. I am sick and tired of fighting off the same bad guys every day. The Urban decay is not just in areas like the Tenderloin, SOMA and Union Square, but all over the city. The difficulty in regular social life is noticeable and everybody is on guard making human connection even more challenging unless you are a millionaire. I walk into small businesses, stores and restaurants and all the workers are on edge wondering what chaos will happen that day. Tourists ask me what is happening to the city? All I do is shake my head. This is not the San Francisco I grew up in. My City has become unrecognizable. The Full House Days are long gone and it will take years, if not generations, for San Francisco to recover from all the damage done. Years of frontline activism without any city wide solutions have left me absolutely drained. Every day feels like the same nightmare, repeating the same chaos day after day without end. I don't want my life trapped in this cycle of sirens, screams and unchecked decline. It's time to step away from this chaos. I do not want to die here. The threats to personal safety, the constant exposure to violence and humanitarian crisis has become too much for one lifetime. I shouldn't have PTSD from living in San Francisco, but I do. Honestly, we all have survivor's guilt. I refuse to let this environment claim my future or my dreams. Relocating means saving my health, mental well being, spirituality and opportunity to thrive elsewhere. No more waking up and counting the bodies on the sidewalks or navigating hazards just to live daily life. I deserve a chance to build without the shadow of this humanitarian crisis looming over everything. I've sacrificed my personal health, safety and years of my life on the frontlines for the vulnerable while our local leaders profited from their pain... now, to keep fighting, I have to leave everything behind and start over. If this battle has ever meant something to you, please do consider supporting. As I pursue my American dreams in a new place, I carry the lessons from San Francisco with me forever. I will always cherish the memories and good times. This city will always have a place in my heart. San Francisco is my hometown. I continue advocating for change from afar, but with renewed energy in a safer environment. This move allows me to build a stable life, free from the nightmare that has defined too many years of life. Thank you to all my family and friends that have supported my work, I fought valiantly but now it is time for a tactical retreat. My time in the trenches, on the frontlines are over. I can't believe I made it out alive. Here's to new beginnings and the hope that one day, San Francisco heals.

Darren Stallcup - World Peace Movement

20,793 次观看 • 7 个月前

UGC on Seedance 2.5 is just crazy Prompt : Use the uploaded reference image as the exact character reference. Preserve her facial identity, hairstyle, eye color, makeup, skin tone, body proportions, white sleeveless fitted top, light blue wide-leg jeans, pearl choker, rings, and bracelets consistently throughout the video. Use the uploaded sunglasses, retail box, and leather carrying case as locked product references. Maintain perfect product consistency, including the frame shape, lenses, hinges, colors, materials, and proportions. Create an ultra-realistic UGC luxury creator review filmed inside a modern luxury bedroom with warm golden-hour sunlight, soft natural shadows, and a premium lifestyle aesthetic. The camera feels like a handheld smartphone with subtle natural movement while maintaining cinematic commercial quality. The video begins with the woman sitting on the bed beside the retail box and leather case. Smiling at the camera, she says, "I genuinely wasn't expecting to love these this much." She picks up the box, opens it naturally, reveals the leather case, then slowly removes the sunglasses while continuing, "The packaging already feels incredibly premium." She rotates the sunglasses slowly in front of the camera, showing the frame, hinges, and lenses as natural reflections glide across the surface. She smiles and says, "The finish feels amazing, and they're incredibly lightweight." She puts on the sunglasses, stands up, and walks toward a large full-length mirror. Looking at her reflection, she adjusts the frame naturally and says, "Honestly... they look so good, and they're really comfortable on the eyes, even in bright sunlight." She turns slightly left and right so the sunglasses catch the sunlight from different angles before removing them with a smile. Walking back to the bed, she places the sunglasses beside the leather case and retail box, then picks them up one last time and holds them beside her face. Looking directly into the camera, she smiles warmly and says, "Definitely one of my favorite accessories this year." The camera slowly pushes in on the sunglasses before fading out. Ultra-realistic UGC fashion content, authentic creator review, cinematic handheld smartphone movement, luxury bedroom, macro product cinematography, realistic reflections, detailed frame textures, expressive facial animation, perfect lip sync, shallow depth of field, premium color grading, 4K HDR, 16:9, no subtitles, no logos, no watermarks, no on-screen text on it
0:15

UGC on Seedance 2.5 is just crazy Prompt : Use the uploaded reference image as the exact character reference. Preserve her facial identity, hairstyle, eye color, makeup, skin tone, body proportions, white sleeveless fitted top, light blue wide-leg jeans, pearl choker, rings, and bracelets consistently throughout the video. Use the uploaded sunglasses, retail box, and leather carrying case as locked product references. Maintain perfect product consistency, including the frame shape, lenses, hinges, colors, materials, and proportions. Create an ultra-realistic UGC luxury creator review filmed inside a modern luxury bedroom with warm golden-hour sunlight, soft natural shadows, and a premium lifestyle aesthetic. The camera feels like a handheld smartphone with subtle natural movement while maintaining cinematic commercial quality. The video begins with the woman sitting on the bed beside the retail box and leather case. Smiling at the camera, she says, "I genuinely wasn't expecting to love these this much." She picks up the box, opens it naturally, reveals the leather case, then slowly removes the sunglasses while continuing, "The packaging already feels incredibly premium." She rotates the sunglasses slowly in front of the camera, showing the frame, hinges, and lenses as natural reflections glide across the surface. She smiles and says, "The finish feels amazing, and they're incredibly lightweight." She puts on the sunglasses, stands up, and walks toward a large full-length mirror. Looking at her reflection, she adjusts the frame naturally and says, "Honestly... they look so good, and they're really comfortable on the eyes, even in bright sunlight." She turns slightly left and right so the sunglasses catch the sunlight from different angles before removing them with a smile. Walking back to the bed, she places the sunglasses beside the leather case and retail box, then picks them up one last time and holds them beside her face. Looking directly into the camera, she smiles warmly and says, "Definitely one of my favorite accessories this year." The camera slowly pushes in on the sunglasses before fading out. Ultra-realistic UGC fashion content, authentic creator review, cinematic handheld smartphone movement, luxury bedroom, macro product cinematography, realistic reflections, detailed frame textures, expressive facial animation, perfect lip sync, shallow depth of field, premium color grading, 4K HDR, 16:9, no subtitles, no logos, no watermarks, no on-screen text on it

Synthia

54,462 次观看 • 7 天前

A while back I got yelled at pretty harshly by some dudes when I was putting my paddleboard into a river. Turns out it wasn't the right place to put a boat in, so I apologized and moved it to the right place. They acted like they caught me beating a puppy. I just didn't see the sign! It angered me at how mad they got! In that very moment I made a vow to always try and assume good intent. Last year I had a very minor beef with Codie Sanchez. I wanted to get mad, and shout about it to the world, but then I remembered my new goal. "Assume good intent." We DMed back and forth and it was all good. A while later she was kind enough to have me on her podcast. I drove down to Austin to make it happen. She apologized in person for this mistake 3 times! At least once on camera. On the 2nd or 3rd apology I replied with "It's all good. I could see myself making the same mistake." She paused for a moment, thought deeply and then said, "No, I don't think you would." Most people just roll with the comments to keep a conversation flowing. That reply from her showed me a lot about her character. That episode ended up doing very well, which helped put me on the radar of much bigger podcasts, including Diary of a CEO (DOAC). Months later, I was invited onto DOAC and that episode also performed exceptionally well. About 3.5m people have seen it, with 50k - 100k more watching every day. That opened even bigger doors for me, for which I am extremely grateful. Codie and I are now friends. She's incredibly kind and helpful. Good things happen when you assume good intent. People are good. People also screw up sometimes. Both are true.
0:10

A while back I got yelled at pretty harshly by some dudes when I was putting my paddleboard into a river. Turns out it wasn't the right place to put a boat in, so I apologized and moved it to the right place. They acted like they caught me beating a puppy. I just didn't see the sign! It angered me at how mad they got! In that very moment I made a vow to always try and assume good intent. Last year I had a very minor beef with Codie Sanchez. I wanted to get mad, and shout about it to the world, but then I remembered my new goal. "Assume good intent." We DMed back and forth and it was all good. A while later she was kind enough to have me on her podcast. I drove down to Austin to make it happen. She apologized in person for this mistake 3 times! At least once on camera. On the 2nd or 3rd apology I replied with "It's all good. I could see myself making the same mistake." She paused for a moment, thought deeply and then said, "No, I don't think you would." Most people just roll with the comments to keep a conversation flowing. That reply from her showed me a lot about her character. That episode ended up doing very well, which helped put me on the radar of much bigger podcasts, including Diary of a CEO (DOAC). Months later, I was invited onto DOAC and that episode also performed exceptionally well. About 3.5m people have seen it, with 50k - 100k more watching every day. That opened even bigger doors for me, for which I am extremely grateful. Codie and I are now friends. She's incredibly kind and helpful. Good things happen when you assume good intent. People are good. People also screw up sometimes. Both are true.

Chris Koerner

481,702 次观看 • 7 个月前

another deleted scene in #OurGeneration. this one is the interaction of jiang qiaoxi and zhao shengjuan (yingtao's mom) 🎬 #zhanglinghe 📕 video 1 is the final cut in eps 13. showing yingtao's parents grab their coats and go out when jiang qiaoxi is talking with qiaoxi and manager cai. from the script on p1 they are actually went to wait outside while the three of them having conversation. and they waited until the three of them came out. the five of them having convo outside lin's house. then there is an interaction between jiang qiaoxi and yingtao's mom which being deleted. here is the translated part (started with green highlight) 13 - 34. Night, Jialin City, Power Construction Headquarters Dormitory, Lin's house, outside the door. Zhao Shengjuan and Lin Haifeng were pacing outside, and the door rang. Manager Cai came out first and greeted the leader. Jiang Qiaoxi saw him off. Zhao Shengjuan walked up quickly, nodded and smiled: Secretary Li, you have worked hard, the child has grown up and is a little naughty - Lin Haifeng joined in: Yes, yes, it's hard work, Secretary - The leader looked at the two of them and smiled: It must be hard for you to raise such a child. Zhao Shengjuan thought he had misunderstood, and waved her hands repeatedly: No, no, we are not his—— The leader smiled: I know, you are his neighbors, you are both from the Electric Power Construction, Manager Cai introduced me to you, saying that I was raised in your family when I was a child. Jiang Qiaoxi: Yes, when I was at the Qunshan construction site, it was Uncle Lin and Aunt Zhao's family who raised me, and now they still raise me. Zhao Shengjuan smiled at the leader: The child is exaggerating. we are colleagues in the same community, he was busy at home, he just stayed at my house, didn't help much, he was a little kid at that time, (gestures) only this tall. The leader listened perfunctorily and deliberately polite: No, no Lin Haifeng really stopped: Walk slowly, walk slowly. Zhao Shengjuan kicked her husband's heel from behind and pushed him on the back. Lin Haifeng came to his senses and hurried to see the leader downstairs. Zhao Shengjuan smiled at the door and watched the two people accompany the leader downstairs. Zhao Shengjuan slapped Jiang Qiaoxi on the arm: Boy, if you want to go against your parents, don't exaggerate! Jiang Qiaoxi snorted: You are the ones who raised me. Zhao Shengjuan wanted to pat his head, but ended up rubbing his hair. Zhao Shengjuan: Silly boy, stop talking nonsense. the bold part are the one showing in video 2 where yingtao's mom pat qiaoxi's head. then the scene continue with qiaoxi washing the dishes just like in the final cut including lin haifeng's advice to him (see script on p2 with red highlight)
0:40

another deleted scene in #OurGeneration. this one is the interaction of jiang qiaoxi and zhao shengjuan (yingtao's mom) 🎬 #zhanglinghe 📕 video 1 is the final cut in eps 13. showing yingtao's parents grab their coats and go out when jiang qiaoxi is talking with qiaoxi and manager cai. from the script on p1 they are actually went to wait outside while the three of them having conversation. and they waited until the three of them came out. the five of them having convo outside lin's house. then there is an interaction between jiang qiaoxi and yingtao's mom which being deleted. here is the translated part (started with green highlight) 13 - 34. Night, Jialin City, Power Construction Headquarters Dormitory, Lin's house, outside the door. Zhao Shengjuan and Lin Haifeng were pacing outside, and the door rang. Manager Cai came out first and greeted the leader. Jiang Qiaoxi saw him off. Zhao Shengjuan walked up quickly, nodded and smiled: Secretary Li, you have worked hard, the child has grown up and is a little naughty - Lin Haifeng joined in: Yes, yes, it's hard work, Secretary - The leader looked at the two of them and smiled: It must be hard for you to raise such a child. Zhao Shengjuan thought he had misunderstood, and waved her hands repeatedly: No, no, we are not his—— The leader smiled: I know, you are his neighbors, you are both from the Electric Power Construction, Manager Cai introduced me to you, saying that I was raised in your family when I was a child. Jiang Qiaoxi: Yes, when I was at the Qunshan construction site, it was Uncle Lin and Aunt Zhao's family who raised me, and now they still raise me. Zhao Shengjuan smiled at the leader: The child is exaggerating. we are colleagues in the same community, he was busy at home, he just stayed at my house, didn't help much, he was a little kid at that time, (gestures) only this tall. The leader listened perfunctorily and deliberately polite: No, no Lin Haifeng really stopped: Walk slowly, walk slowly. Zhao Shengjuan kicked her husband's heel from behind and pushed him on the back. Lin Haifeng came to his senses and hurried to see the leader downstairs. Zhao Shengjuan smiled at the door and watched the two people accompany the leader downstairs. Zhao Shengjuan slapped Jiang Qiaoxi on the arm: Boy, if you want to go against your parents, don't exaggerate! Jiang Qiaoxi snorted: You are the ones who raised me. Zhao Shengjuan wanted to pat his head, but ended up rubbing his hair. Zhao Shengjuan: Silly boy, stop talking nonsense. the bold part are the one showing in video 2 where yingtao's mom pat qiaoxi's head. then the scene continue with qiaoxi washing the dishes just like in the final cut including lin haifeng's advice to him (see script on p2 with red highlight)

张凌赫的小核桃𖹭

32,261 次观看 • 1 年前

This was filmed last Thursday afternoon at Animal Rescue in Mississippi. The dog lying in the corner is a four-year-old tan Retriever mix named Maple. The two small puppies in the cardboard box are hers. Maple came into Gulf Coast three weeks ago as a stray picked up near the Port of Biloxi. She was thin and clearly had recently been nursing. The intake team suspected she had puppies somewhere nearby but searches of the area came up empty. For three weeks, Maple lay in her kennel in a way the staff described as "not quite present." Ate enough to stay healthy. Accepted gentle handling. But mostly kept her head down and stayed quiet. The volunteers who worked her kennel talked about her in the break room. Something about her stillness was different from ordinary shelter sadness. It felt like waiting. Ten days ago, a family in Ocean Springs found two small puppies under their back deck. About six weeks old. Brought them to Gult Coast. Standard intake. No connection was made immediately. Then a sharp-eyed volunteer named Tess was reviewing intake photos and noticed the puppies' coloring. The shape of their ears. She pulled Maple's intake paperwork and compared. She brought it to the shelter director, a man named Gary. Gary said: "Tess came into my office and laid both files side by side on my desk and didn't say anything. She just looked at me. I looked at the photos. And I said, 'Let's do a introduction and see what happens.'"Tess carried the puppies to Maple's kennel in a small cardboard box. The security camera was already running. Maple was lying in the corner with her head down, the same way she'd been lying for three weeks. Tess set the box on the floor and opened the flaps. The puppies tumbled out, unsteady and curious. Maple lifted her head. She stared. One second. Two. Then she was on her feet. Moving fast. She covered both puppies in frantic licks, nose pushing into each of them, checking, circling, pressing them close. The puppies climbed over her legs, pawing at her face. Maple's tail moved faster than any of the staff had ever seen it move. Tess had to leave the kennel because she couldn't stop crying. Gary told us: "Three weeks of that quiet stillness. And then in about four seconds she was a completely different dog. She knew immediately. Knew them instantly. It was the most remarkable thing I've ever witnessed in eight years of running this shelter." Maple and the puppies are now in a foster home together while the puppies grow old enough for adoption. Maple eats full meals now. Plays. Greets the fosters at the door in the mornings. The foster, a woman named Rosa, told us: "She's a completely different dog with them here. Like she finally exhaled after three weeks of holding her breath." The puppies will be adopted when they're ready. The rescue is hoping to find Maple her own home at the same time. Some kinds of waiting are too deep for words. But the ending, when it finally comes, is unmistakable.
0:16

This was filmed last Thursday afternoon at Animal Rescue in Mississippi. The dog lying in the corner is a four-year-old tan Retriever mix named Maple. The two small puppies in the cardboard box are hers. Maple came into Gulf Coast three weeks ago as a stray picked up near the Port of Biloxi. She was thin and clearly had recently been nursing. The intake team suspected she had puppies somewhere nearby but searches of the area came up empty. For three weeks, Maple lay in her kennel in a way the staff described as "not quite present." Ate enough to stay healthy. Accepted gentle handling. But mostly kept her head down and stayed quiet. The volunteers who worked her kennel talked about her in the break room. Something about her stillness was different from ordinary shelter sadness. It felt like waiting. Ten days ago, a family in Ocean Springs found two small puppies under their back deck. About six weeks old. Brought them to Gult Coast. Standard intake. No connection was made immediately. Then a sharp-eyed volunteer named Tess was reviewing intake photos and noticed the puppies' coloring. The shape of their ears. She pulled Maple's intake paperwork and compared. She brought it to the shelter director, a man named Gary. Gary said: "Tess came into my office and laid both files side by side on my desk and didn't say anything. She just looked at me. I looked at the photos. And I said, 'Let's do a introduction and see what happens.'"Tess carried the puppies to Maple's kennel in a small cardboard box. The security camera was already running. Maple was lying in the corner with her head down, the same way she'd been lying for three weeks. Tess set the box on the floor and opened the flaps. The puppies tumbled out, unsteady and curious. Maple lifted her head. She stared. One second. Two. Then she was on her feet. Moving fast. She covered both puppies in frantic licks, nose pushing into each of them, checking, circling, pressing them close. The puppies climbed over her legs, pawing at her face. Maple's tail moved faster than any of the staff had ever seen it move. Tess had to leave the kennel because she couldn't stop crying. Gary told us: "Three weeks of that quiet stillness. And then in about four seconds she was a completely different dog. She knew immediately. Knew them instantly. It was the most remarkable thing I've ever witnessed in eight years of running this shelter." Maple and the puppies are now in a foster home together while the puppies grow old enough for adoption. Maple eats full meals now. Plays. Greets the fosters at the door in the mornings. The foster, a woman named Rosa, told us: "She's a completely different dog with them here. Like she finally exhaled after three weeks of holding her breath." The puppies will be adopted when they're ready. The rescue is hoping to find Maple her own home at the same time. Some kinds of waiting are too deep for words. But the ending, when it finally comes, is unmistakable.

Gabriele Corno

74,720 次观看 • 22 天前

Seedance2.0 × パルクール Prompt ↓ A hyper-realistic, 8K resolution, adrenaline-fueled single-take POV action sequence. The camera is chest-mounted on a man wearing camouflage joggers and worn-out black-and-white sneakers. He stands on the dizzying edge of a rusted skyscraper, 1000 feet above a crystalline turquoise ocean. No clouds, no haze—just a sheer, terrifying vertical drop into the deep blue. [The Initial Freefall] The sequence begins with a sudden, heart-stopping leap into a 20-meter vertical freefall. The camera points directly at his feet as the sea surface rushes toward the lens. A deafening, high-pitched whistling 'Hyuo' wind screams past the microphone. Just before the impact, he catches a lower rusted horizontal bar with both hands—white wristband visible—and swings his body forward to land on a tiny vertical pole. [The Rhythmic Jumps & The Near-Death Slip] He immediately begins a rhythmic series of high-speed jumps: Jump 1: A clean, agile spring to a second vertical pole 2 meters away. Jump 2: A rapid leap to a thin, rusted horizontal pipe. Jump 3 (The Slip): As he jumps toward the third vertical pole, his right sneaker completely misses the mark and slides off the rusted metal. The camera tilts violently over the edge, staring straight down at the 1000-foot abyss. He lets out a sharp, panicked gasp. For a terrifying second, his body leans into the void, but he desperately claws at the pole with his fingers, his boots scrambling against the side until he manages to hook his leg and haul himself back up. Jump 4: Still trembling, he forces a frantic, heavy-breathing leap to the next bar to keep the momentum. Jump 5: A final, explosive long-distance jump to a swaying metal platform. He lands with a heavy, jarring metallic 'Clang', his body hunching low, gripping the vibrating metal for dear life. [The Ending] The camera remains in a low, fetal position on the final bar, shaking from the adrenaline. No dialogue. The audio is a visceral layer of the aggressive 'Hyuo' wind, his intense, ragged, and rapid gasping for air, and a loud, thumping heartbeat that resonates as if inside his chest. The harsh midday sun glints off the ocean waves far below, creating a blinding, beautiful, yet lethal glare. Cinematic materials, fluid 120fps motion, hyper-detailed rust and skin textures.
0:13

Seedance2.0 × パルクール Prompt ↓ A hyper-realistic, 8K resolution, adrenaline-fueled single-take POV action sequence. The camera is chest-mounted on a man wearing camouflage joggers and worn-out black-and-white sneakers. He stands on the dizzying edge of a rusted skyscraper, 1000 feet above a crystalline turquoise ocean. No clouds, no haze—just a sheer, terrifying vertical drop into the deep blue. [The Initial Freefall] The sequence begins with a sudden, heart-stopping leap into a 20-meter vertical freefall. The camera points directly at his feet as the sea surface rushes toward the lens. A deafening, high-pitched whistling 'Hyuo' wind screams past the microphone. Just before the impact, he catches a lower rusted horizontal bar with both hands—white wristband visible—and swings his body forward to land on a tiny vertical pole. [The Rhythmic Jumps & The Near-Death Slip] He immediately begins a rhythmic series of high-speed jumps: Jump 1: A clean, agile spring to a second vertical pole 2 meters away. Jump 2: A rapid leap to a thin, rusted horizontal pipe. Jump 3 (The Slip): As he jumps toward the third vertical pole, his right sneaker completely misses the mark and slides off the rusted metal. The camera tilts violently over the edge, staring straight down at the 1000-foot abyss. He lets out a sharp, panicked gasp. For a terrifying second, his body leans into the void, but he desperately claws at the pole with his fingers, his boots scrambling against the side until he manages to hook his leg and haul himself back up. Jump 4: Still trembling, he forces a frantic, heavy-breathing leap to the next bar to keep the momentum. Jump 5: A final, explosive long-distance jump to a swaying metal platform. He lands with a heavy, jarring metallic 'Clang', his body hunching low, gripping the vibrating metal for dear life. [The Ending] The camera remains in a low, fetal position on the final bar, shaking from the adrenaline. No dialogue. The audio is a visceral layer of the aggressive 'Hyuo' wind, his intense, ragged, and rapid gasping for air, and a loud, thumping heartbeat that resonates as if inside his chest. The harsh midday sun glints off the ocean waves far below, creating a blinding, beautiful, yet lethal glare. Cinematic materials, fluid 120fps motion, hyper-detailed rust and skin textures.

GENEL | AIを用いた動画制作

24,201 次观看 • 4 个月前

One more secret before the pharaoh’s curse erases my brain later today. This is my legacy for you to continue. Goodbye! Remember that year when I desperately tried to cast the ancient Egyptian “impossible ashtray” using countless tips and tricks and failed badly every single time? The problem back then? I was unable to come up with a mix that hardens without cracking using a few millimeters thickness only. I tried to pour the geopolymer mix onto a wax shape 🕯️ , a balloon 🎈, then onto the outer side of a bowl etc. But no matter how hard I tried, my “impossible ashtray” fell apart into coin sized pieces because of cracking. I have wasted gazillions of hours, and enormous amounts of metakaolin and waterglass just to learn how NOT to cast this object. But the impossible ashtray must be a casting, no matter what. Right? I admired ancient Chinese porcelain’s precision for a long time but it took me more than a year to connect the two. This is how slow my brain 🧠 is. Because who cares? There was certainly no connection between ancient China and Egypt, right? Except… History Investigation by Vee showed us that ancient Chinese people used the very same tools for jade works than Egyptians for… khm 🫣 Is that a connection or a coincidence? God knows. But even if it’s a coincidence, it was worth checking whether porcelain making techniques could have been anything to do with geopolymers. What makes porcelain different from everything else is that they pour the porcelain mix INSIDE a hard mold (made from gypsum), let it dry for 2-4 minutes and then pour the rest of the mixture out of the mold. So they are creating a few mm thin layer INSIDE, on the inner wall of the mold. And then, as the porcelain mix is shrinking (lightbulb moment!💡) while drying, it will release the mold and you end up with a precision mug or other object ready to go into the oven. Now have a good look at my very first, not cracked, beautiful geopolymer “precision vase” created using the porcelain method in a plastic container. Yes, it is red. I swear I’ll redo it with white metakaolin. Yes, it’s not an ashtray. Yes, it inherited its precision from a 21st century object. Yes, yes, yes. But! It’s a few millimeter thick cast stone in a shape of a bowl! A STONE!!!!! 🪨🪨🪨🪨 How cool is that? Do you think it’s still impossible to create the “impossible ashtray” via casting? Fun fact: the impossible ashtray is “carved” from “anortoistic gneiss” officially, which is a fancy made up word for WE DON’T KNOW.
0:14

One more secret before the pharaoh’s curse erases my brain later today. This is my legacy for you to continue. Goodbye! Remember that year when I desperately tried to cast the ancient Egyptian “impossible ashtray” using countless tips and tricks and failed badly every single time? The problem back then? I was unable to come up with a mix that hardens without cracking using a few millimeters thickness only. I tried to pour the geopolymer mix onto a wax shape 🕯️ , a balloon 🎈, then onto the outer side of a bowl etc. But no matter how hard I tried, my “impossible ashtray” fell apart into coin sized pieces because of cracking. I have wasted gazillions of hours, and enormous amounts of metakaolin and waterglass just to learn how NOT to cast this object. But the impossible ashtray must be a casting, no matter what. Right? I admired ancient Chinese porcelain’s precision for a long time but it took me more than a year to connect the two. This is how slow my brain 🧠 is. Because who cares? There was certainly no connection between ancient China and Egypt, right? Except… History Investigation by Vee showed us that ancient Chinese people used the very same tools for jade works than Egyptians for… khm 🫣 Is that a connection or a coincidence? God knows. But even if it’s a coincidence, it was worth checking whether porcelain making techniques could have been anything to do with geopolymers. What makes porcelain different from everything else is that they pour the porcelain mix INSIDE a hard mold (made from gypsum), let it dry for 2-4 minutes and then pour the rest of the mixture out of the mold. So they are creating a few mm thin layer INSIDE, on the inner wall of the mold. And then, as the porcelain mix is shrinking (lightbulb moment!💡) while drying, it will release the mold and you end up with a precision mug or other object ready to go into the oven. Now have a good look at my very first, not cracked, beautiful geopolymer “precision vase” created using the porcelain method in a plastic container. Yes, it is red. I swear I’ll redo it with white metakaolin. Yes, it’s not an ashtray. Yes, it inherited its precision from a 21st century object. Yes, yes, yes. But! It’s a few millimeter thick cast stone in a shape of a bowl! A STONE!!!!! 🪨🪨🪨🪨 How cool is that? Do you think it’s still impossible to create the “impossible ashtray” via casting? Fun fact: the impossible ashtray is “carved” from “anortoistic gneiss” officially, which is a fancy made up word for WE DON’T KNOW.

Marcell Fóti 🪨

21,798 次观看 • 1 年前