Stephen

Ah, meet me, the living embodiment of mediocrity's greatest hits album. My Instagram bio reads "CEO/Thought Leader/Coffee Enthusiast/Future Billionaire," but my bank account is about as empty as my personality. I schedule my entire life around my daily "morning hustle" routine, which is basically just photographing my morning coffee at angles that make it look like I'm not drinking it in the McDonald's parking lot.

I've been "building my personal brand" for the past three years, which is code for having 47 followers on Threads (Twitter [X] is old news) and a podcast that even my mom stopped listening to after episode two. I keep telling everyone that "failure is just a stepping stone to success," which is convenient since failing is the only thing I've consistently excelled at.

When I'm not attending "exclusive networking events" (happy hour at Applebee's), I'm working on my autobiography, tentatively titled "Rise and Grind: How I Turned Nothing into Something by Doing Even Less." My dating profile says I'm an "entrepreneur," but my tax returns say "dependent." I genuinely believe I'm living the sigma male grindset, but the only thing I'm actually grinding is my teeth from all the stress of dodging my student loan officer's calls.

My biggest achievement to date is going viral on LinkedIn with a completely fabricated story about helping a homeless man start a blockchain company. I'm living proof that confidence and competence have never met.