DadBods come in dozens of different flavors. One of the most common, and most dastardly, is a Financial DadBod.

Growing older is full of painful but ultimately necessary rites of passage.

If you’re like me, your clothes fit too well, you have too much money in your savings account, and your mood is steady enough to support a champagne flute pyramid.

Sunday morning before my kids wake up is sacred time in our house. I make my wife a real coffee drink (Americano), make myself a mug full of pseudo-coffee dessert (brown sugar cinnamon latter with whole milk that I’ve dubbed the “brown bear”) and we sit and talk in our den. With the neighborhood cat perched on my lap and a stack of books within arm’s reach, it’s the most relaxing hour of my week.

Not today.

I could pinpoint the exact second when I lost my audience. I wasn’t surprised because it was the exact same spot I lost the audience the last time I gave the talk. And the time before that.

The main reason I’m not terrified of an impending existential threat posed by AI is because of how badly some of the facebook algorithm’s recommended purchases miss the mark for me.

As all three members of my nuclear family can attest, I’m at my most childish and petty when my special journaling pens go missing. I’m now going to try to make the case that these sporadic tantrums should not only continue to be tolerated but are actually completely reasonable.

When was the last time you heard something so insightful it stopped you in your tracks?

The cubic volume of my bladder shrinks 50% for every 3,000 foot gain in elevation.

When was the last time you updated your Impulse Purchasing Protocol (IPP)? If your answer is “What in the world are you talking about, Jesse?”, I have two things to say to you:

Admit it. After savoring the twists and turns of my January, February, and March Monthly Experiment Recaps, only to be stood up at the altar from April onward, you assumed I threw in the towel and wimped out on the project starting with sugar-free April.