No One Gives a Shit, and Neither Should You.

As I hit my Blackberry Kush pen a little too hard, I realize I might be repeating myself, but fuck it—someone out there is thinking the same thing. I’ve got a few hours before I have to pick up my kid from school, and this is what’s been on my mind.

Now, I know I’ve touched on this before, but I used to care way too much about what people thought of me. Every move I made was filtered through “what will people think?” And for what? Validation? Approval? Will I ruin my reputation or what little, shitty social status I had because someone didn’t like a joke? Some imaginary permission slip?

I grew up on radio. Late ‘90s, early 2000s, riding to school with my dad, listening to shock jocks who didn’t give a shit—who had fun, ripped on current events and celebs, and weren’t afraid to piss people off. In high school, my friend Brett had a full radio setup in his bedroom that he built himself. This was real-deal online radio and local (illegal) FM broadcasting. We were doing this shit before it was everywhere, back in 2004.

That’s when I fell in love with it. Me and my best friends would go over to his house, roast everything—videos, dumb internet trends, each other. We’d tell stories and bust each other’s balls mercilessly. It was perfect. It was freedom. I still have those old shows, and one day we’ll listen back and roast my 17-year-old self together. Spoiler: I was fucking awful.

No cameras. No horseshit interviews. No forced conversations. Just raw, unfiltered audio. Dinner Rush Radio isn’t about going viral. It’s about having fun, talking about life, mental health, making fun of myself, making fun of the world, doing bits, talking shit, and connecting with the listeners. In my stoned-ass brain, I see a return to the old way we used to consume media. At least, that’s how it feels to me.

Sure, I could set up a shitty camera, worry about how I look, spread my nuts in a cheap thrifted chair, and talk to my friend about CHICKS and current events, then upload it to YouTube. But let’s be real—are you actually watching that shit? Be honest.

Podcasting is oversaturated and boring. Every random person with a mic thinks they have something profound to say. Spoiler: they don’t (and neither do I). I’m self-aware enough to know I just want to do a silly show, make my friends laugh, and talk my shit.

Even comedians—the so-called funniest people alive—most of them shouldn’t have podcasts. Half are painfully forced, recycled material, online videos we’ve all seen on Tosh.0 already, crammed with a million ads, and just filling space to keep the checks coming. There are maybe a handful of good shows out there, and if you know which ones I’m talking about, you get it. If not, well… you’re out of it. Sorry if you still think Tom Segura is cool and fun—I can’t help you.

And I’m not comparing myself to them, but I am saying most of this shit is unlistenable. The difference is—I’m not here to be important. I’m just here to do my thing.

Drinking made my fear of judgment worse. I was more afraid of people knowing I was an alcoholic than of people judging me in general. That fear kept me quiet. It kept me small. But when you get sober—when you realize how much time you’ve wasted caring about shit that doesn’t matter—you stop hesitating.

I don’t care if people think Dinner Rush Radio is dumb. I don’t care if people don’t get my humor. The truth is, I am making money doing what I love—designing T-shirts, building a brand, making real connections with people who think like me. If it doesn’t work out? Oh well. My dad taught me an important lesson—he always tried everything, just to see if he could. He never gave a shit about people telling him he couldn’t. And a lot of people do.

What did you do today? Call your mom, douchebag.

So What’s Stopping You?

Fear is bullshit. It keeps you stuck, silent, and playing small. You’ll watch people doing what you wish you had the balls to do and tell yourself they’re just lucky. They’re not. They just fucking did it. And most people? They don’t do shit. So you’re already miles ahead of those family members, those friends—people who always have some shit to say, some advice to give, but never take their own risks. They play it safe. They follow the status quo. Fuck that. And fuck you.

So what’s your excuse? What have you been putting off because you’re scared of looking stupid? A business? A creative project? A whole new direction? Whatever it is—just start. Stop waiting. No one’s gonna hand you permission. Fuck the doubters. And if you wanna talk about it, email me: fire@dontburnthefood.com. Tell me what you’re working on, what you’re scared of, or just talk some shit—I don’t care. Just do something. Because the only way you lose is by never trying.

I want my son to see someone who goes for it. Not someone who plays it safe. Not someone who lets other people’s opinions dictate his life. I want him to see a dad who went after what he loved, who made something real, who didn’t give a fuck about the noise. Because at the end of the day, his opinion is the only one that matters to me. And I want him to know that whatever he wants to do in life—he doesn’t need anyone’s permission either.

Peace. Kick ass.