I just wrapped a new YouTube video… and wow, did I spend a ridiculous amount of time saying “uhmmm…” Like—Olympic-level “uhmmm.” Gold medal. World record. I was basically the Michael Phelps of hesitation noises. And as I listened back, I caught myself thinking: “Man… I don’t sound polished.” “I sound a little scattered.” “Shouldn’t I be smoother by now?” But then I asked myself the same question I’ve asked a hundred times when watching my favorite creators: “Why do I enjoy this person’s channel?” “What is it about their content that keeps me coming back?” And the answer hit me—again: 👉 Because they’re real. 👉 They’re down-to-earth. 👉 They feel approachable, human, and unedited in all the right ways. So if that’s what draws me in, why am I being so hard on myself for not sounding like a polished network anchor? Truth is, creators aren’t followed because they’re flawless. They’re followed because they’re themselves. So I’m choosing to embrace the “uhmms.” The imperfect pacing. The occasional mental loading screen. Because authenticity beats polish every time—and honestly, I’d rather sound like me than sound like a script. If you’re creating anything—videos, art, writing, music—here’s your friendly nudge: Don’t wait until you sound perfect. Just show up as you. That’s the magic people connect with. And if you want to see the very video that inspired this little moment of self-reflection, here it is: 🎥 The Best Digital Pen Displays for Artists (2025) — This One Is a MONSTER!! https://youtu.be/3ihADWvRS7Y

https://youtu.be/3ihADWvRS7Y?si=VnqWLUzCa_BYjSfA

If you’ve got a sci-fi fan, movie geek, or creature-design nerd in your life… this is the perfect holiday gift. I just released my 11×17 full-color Xynamorph fan art print, inspired by the hissing, spitting, acid-for-blood nightmare that first crawled aboard the Nostromo in the original Alien movie. This piece is purely fan art and created as a transformative tribute under fair use — just one illustrator’s love letter to one of the greatest creatures in cinematic history. 🎨 As a freelance illustrator, cartoonist, and caricature artist, every purchase directly supports my art and helps me keep creating new work. Supporting independent artists really does make a difference. 🎁 Holiday Bonus: Send me a PM saying you’d like to purchase a print, and I’ll give you an exclusive $10.00 discount as a thank-you. Perfect for: • Sci-fi fans • Horror lovers • Movie collectors • Fellow geeks • Anyone who loves bold, unique art Thanks for supporting the arts — and for supporting creators who put their heart into every line and every brush stroke. 💙 Xynamorph Fan Art Poster – 11×17 Full-Color Illustration geekmans-store.myshopify.com

Clive Davis didn’t start out in the music industry. He wasn’t hunting for the next superstar. He wasn’t even looking for a new career. He was a corporate attorney — one of the best. His reputation for excellence and leadership was so strong that a friend asked him to lead a major record label, even though he’d never signed an artist in his life. He could have said: “I’m a lawyer. That’s what I do.” Instead, he stepped into the unknown. What happened next changed music history. Clive Davis discovered a talent he never knew he had: He could recognize greatness when he heard it. That instinct led him to shape the careers of some of the greatest artists of all time — including Whitney Houston. Without his willingness to try something outside his lane, the world may have never heard her voice. The lesson? Don’t label yourself as “just” anything. You are not a one-trick pony. You have strengths waiting to be discovered — but only if you’re willing to step into new territory. Your next breakthrough might not be in the field you’re in. Your greatest gift might be the one you haven’t used yet. Keep growing. Keep exploring. And don’t be afraid to surprise yourself.

In 1981, three Texas engineers — Rod Canion, Jim Harris, and Bill Murto — quietly slipped away from their stable careers at Texas Instruments. They weren’t rebels… yet. They were just three guys who knew computers and felt something brewing in the industry. Personal computers were still bulky creatures — more “honorary piece of furniture” than “grab-and-go convenience.” They met at The House of Pies in Houston, a 24-hour diner known for coffee strong enough to wake the dead and pie sweet enough to give them something to live for. Over plates of pie and that legendary diner caffeine, they started dreaming out loud: What if computers didn’t have to be chained to a desk? What if you could take a computer anywhere? And right there, between the strawberry-rhubarb and the pecan slices, Rod Canion grabbed a napkin. Not a legal pad. Not a whiteboard. A napkin — the universal symbol for “this idea might be crazy, but hear me out.” On it, he sketched a computer with a handle. Something you could carry like a briefcase. Something that could run the same software as an IBM PC — which was unheard of at the time because IBM guarded its hardware compatibility like a dragon sitting on a hoard of BASIC code. That napkin sketch became the blueprint for a company they would form just months later: Compaq Computer Corporation. Compaq didn’t invent the laptop outright, but they did invent something just as disruptive: ➡️ The first IBM-compatible portable computer. The Compaq Portable hit the market in 1983. It weighed 28 pounds — basically a sewing machine that ran MS-DOS — but the business world went wild. It was: - portable, - powerful, - and perfectly compatible with IBM’s software. Compaq sold $111 million in their first year. By year four, they hit $1 billion, the fastest-growing company in U.S. business history at the time. And that little napkin? It represents one of the most famous “startup in a diner over coffee” moments in tech history — rivaled only by the Hewlett-Packard garage and the “let’s drop out of college and create Apple” conversation.