You name it, I've probably written about it.

Organic tampons. Audiophile websites. Mortuaries. Luxury cars. Ointments and oil change services. Dog pounds. JetSkis. Custom car builders and automated voice assistants. Ice machines and 89-cent hot dogs.

I don’t mind getting in a scrum for a good idea.

My favorite assignments? Brand positioning.

Finding that one peculiar, provocative place a brand can own that nobody else in the category has the brains or balls to occupy.

The trick is finding the truth nobody else thought to look for.

Azamara Cruises. Change The Way You Sea.

Central Market. Chew With Your Mind Open.

Land Rover. The Most Well-Traveled Vehicles on Earth.

Franklin County Health Services. FCKADDICTION.com. The only thing missing is "U".

Four brands. Four very different problems to grab by the short ones. Not a single mention of empowering tomorrow.

I write manifestos. Brand stories. Campaigns. Headlines. Books. Performance pieces.

And the occasional sentence that makes a conference room go very, very quiet.

I don't write to decorate a brand.

I write to make shit happen.

Change minds. Alter behavior. Make people pay fucking attention like they owe it an organ.

Make the numbers swim upstream like horny trout.

Lately, I've been calling bullshit on the algorithm.

Four thousand hours questioning, rejecting, provoking, and demanding better from machines perfectly capable of producing mediocrity at the speed of compromise.

I wrote a book about it. Built a method around it. And turned the whole bloody argument into a stage show.

Because AI doesn't need better prompts nearly as much as people need better thinking.

I've spent a career making creative people think harder. Now I'm teaching them how to do it while carrying AI on their backs.

It can be done.

How to challenge lazy thinking. How to trust your instincts. How to keep your voice from becoming AI slop.

And yes, I still write ads.

But the irony never escapes me that nobody wakes up in the morning hoping to read one.

I write to be remembered. To be heard. To work my way into your head, your heart, and whatever soft, unguarded part of you advertising hasn't effectively cauterized yet.

Sometimes I make people laugh. Sometimes I fucking piss 'em off.

Sometimes I scare little green apples down their pant legs, even if it means mussing up my best suit.

I never want to leave people where I found them.

Neither should you.

Book me.