On what subject(s) are you an authority?

You ever meet someone who thinks they’re an “authority” because they read a blog post or watched a YouTube video? Yeah. Screw that. You wanna know what I’m an authority on? Shit I’ve actually lived. Not theory. Not TikTok trends. Real. Life. Experience.

Let’s start with the obvious—I work two jobs. Meals on Wheels by day, Domino’s assistant manager by night. Sounds glamorous, right? Try working with entitled customers, lazy coworkers, and corporate policies written by people who probably couldn’t make a sandwich without help. I’ve seen it all. From ungrateful clients to employees who couldn’t problem-solve their way out of a wet paper bag. If you’ve never had to deliver food to someone who’s cussing you out while you’re doing them a favor… congrats. I’ve got stories. Authority? Yeah—I earned it in sweat, stress, and rage.

When I’m not working myself into an early grave, I’m out geocaching. That’s right, I’m one of those nerds crawling through the woods looking for Tupperware in trees. Except I’m good at it. I’ve hit GeoTours, completed challenges, even collected coins like some people collect debt. You ever find a micro in the middle of a storm while swatting away mosquitoes and regret every life choice that led you there? I have. I also loved it. And that makes me a damn authority.

Let’s talk music. Old-school punk is my therapy. Misfits. Pennywise. Bad Religion. If it’s loud, fast, and makes your mom uncomfortable, I’m into it. I’m not here for bubblegum bullshit—I’m here for distorted guitars, middle fingers, and screaming lyrics that mean something. I’m not just a fan. I live it. I design stickers, banners, and web themes dripping with punk vibes and zero apologies.

Oh, and I’m an ordained minister. Not your grandma’s kind of minister either—I was touched by His Noodly Appendage. Yeah, I’m a Pastafarian, which means I believe in satire, sarcasm, and poking holes in bullshit traditions. Got my colander. Got my faith. Got my sense of humor. If that offends you, I’m already laughing.

And don’t get me started on vintage tech. I grew up with the Commodore 64—back when computers taught you patience and programming, not how to scroll TikTok until your brain melts. I’ve got a degree in computer graphics and multimedia programming from Belmont College, and I’m still neck-deep in design work when I can find five minutes between the madness.

I speak fluent burnout, specialize in sarcasm, and hold a PhD in Not Taking Anyone’s Shit. You don’t have to agree with me. But don’t pretend I don’t know what I’m talking about.

You want advice from a textbook? Go read one.