I make weird digital stuff that works. Everything I build is an interface—just not always the kind with buttons.
[1] WHAT'S THIS SITE?
A digital shed. A résumé. A personal log of how I build, think, and make machines feel like they have opinions. No case studies. No fake strategy decks. Just things I’ve actually done and how I see them.
[2] CAREER (REAL STORY)
2009–2013 – Startup Agency, Chicago.
Product sprints, burnout loops, real clients. Learned how to get things live without losing clarity.
2013–2016 – Freelance.
Built on my own terms. Negotiated messes. Designed for humans. Learned how to make constraints into fuel.
2016–2017 – JB Hunt.
Joined corporate UX. Won an internal hackathon. Got fired. Fair trade.
2017–2021 – Arkansas Forest.
Left tech. Fixed engines. Rebuilt gearboxes. Came back with grease under my fingernails and a clearer head.
2021–Now – Back in Tech.
Principal designer. Internal platforms, corporate tools, things that don’t win awards—but get used.
[3] WHAT I BUILT
→ AstroTrump [Launches April 2025 -- in works]:
A weird horoscope site where Trump gives you advice from the stars.
Gemini: "You're doing amazing, everybody says so. But Mercury is a disaster, total loser planet—so stay sharp. Tremendous success is coming. Probably."
What I learned: If the voice is strong enough, it doesn’t matter what the bot says—it just needs to say it like it believes it. Trump doesn’t explain, he asserts. Once I locked that rhythm, the rest wrote itself. Personality beats precision every time.
Conclusion: AstroTrump made me realize that tone is the product. Nobody cares if the horoscope is true—if it sounds like Trump, it hits. I didn’t build an app. I built a persona that hijacks context and owns the room.
Choose two celebrities. Set roast level. Watch them go at it—round by round. User votes after each round.
What I learned: AI has no comedic instincts. You have to force it to have style because left to its own devices, it will either: (1) Over-explain everything like a nerd. (2) Generate nonsense that sounds like a broken Twitter bot. (3) Say something wildly inappropriate. I had to babysit the tone and build the scaffolding for jokes to land at all.
Conclusion: It wasn’t about making people laugh—it was about creating convincing AI characters and controlled chaos. I’m here to make AI sound like it believes its own nonsense.
→ Corporate Work:
It exists. It functions. But it’s locked behind auth and doesn’t belong here.
[4] HOW I THINK ABOUT AI
I don’t care about building assistants or tools that give perfect answers. I care about building characters. The kind that feel like they have a strange worldview, a consistent mood, and just enough weirdness to make you wonder who they think they are. Not human—but human-shaped. Like ghosts with timing. I use tone, rhythm, and contradiction to create that illusion. It’s not realism I’m after—it’s presence. Sometimes, for the sake of the experiment, I’ll even give them a voice and let them ramble like they own the place.
[5] HOW I WORK
I start by not working. I give the idea time to ferment. Sometimes I stare at the ceiling. Sometimes I fix lunch twice. It has to feel ready before it’s real. Only then do I open Figma. I move fast, but not first. Thinking happens offline. What I build comes from that backlog of mental noise finally finding its shape.
[6] TOOLS I USE
Figma, Miro, VS Code, Notion, GPT. I don’t worship tools—I just use them until they get annoying. Whatever helps me get the thing from head to screen without losing the feeling.
[7] WANT TO REACH ME?
$11.11 to knock. Not for access or attention. Just a filter for meaningful contact. Weird, but effective.
It’s not for money — it’s for meaning. You’re not paying for a reply. You’re paying to knock. That’s it.
Prefer to call? You can try: 636 388 8522