Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 9, 2025
• No social media is safe. The amount of swing-for-the-fences spam I get on LinkedIn now is as thrilling as it is stupid. Just today, I received a message from a Tom Yorston, VP of Sales at Chicago House AC, a semi-pro men’s and women’s soccer team. He’s asking me if I want to join their advisory board, and consider being an angel in their funding round. Here’s the thing, nothing in my LinkedIn profile should lead anyone—even AI bots—to think that I’d be the guy to sit on a soccer team’s advisory board. And nothing in my LinkedIn profile should lead anyone—even AI bots— to think I’ve got a bunch of money I’m not sure what to do with, so why not give it to a soccer team. I’m on LinkedIn to make money, not donate it to support semi-pro athletic teams. Check your algorithm, Tom. And while you’re at it, check your station in life.
• The water always comes. Even when you’re in a desert. It just takes longer. Patience. Persistence. Perseverance.
• There’s a joke that before marriage, women fart like silenced handguns, and after marriage, they fart like civil war canons. Maybe. But that’s also me right now. There are times when I can’t wait for my girlfriend to leave so I can blow out six different stomachaches.
• Sometimes, the best medicine is wreaking hell on your body.
• Unfortunately, racists have every right to gainful employment. But maybe, the only place that’ll hire them is the White House. Not the best pay, but it looks real good on a resume.
• We’ve abandoned Freud. Nothing is nurture, it’s strict nature. Who we are is no longer defined by our experiences or our relationships with our parents or friends, but by our neurodiverse ailments. It’s no longer survival of the fittest, it’s survival of who has the most diagnoses. And with all that, so goes accountability out the window.
