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Why I Buy Crap

Bamboo threaded pillow with Peruvian feathers and Persian stitching gives you the perfect night’s sleep. One click, sold. Wait, I already have a pillow!

I buy shit. And I mean the kind of shit you open, take out of the box, skim the directions, and then throw in the closet to dustify. I shop like a cat chases a string. I pursue, but as soon as I have it, I lose interest and move on.

Nebo Speaks at SuperNova South

SuperNova South, the Southeast’s largest and longest running tech conference, takes over Atlanta next week. We’re proud to have five people from the Nebo team leading some great sessions. Check out who’s speaking and use promo code NEBOSNS to receive a discount on your event badge. Hurry—tickets are going fast!

French Avant-Garde, SEO and the Creative Freedom of Character Limits

We live in a world of character limits. 25. 140. 60. 165.  The Internet demands you pare things down. Even where the Internet hasn’t put a limit on you, your audience probably has (e.g. if your Instagram captions are routinely broken into paragraphs, I hate you). Especially in digital marketing, we understand that attention spans are fleeting and we have to get our point across neatly.

White Zin Killed Rosé: An Unfortunate Case Study of Mistaken Identity

Let’s talk wine.

This isn’t a red versus white debate (we’d be here all day), but something more in the middle. Precisely in the middle, actually.


Coming Clean: Online Advertising through the Eyes of a Recovering Ad Blocker

In 2012, I shunned online advertising.

I was trying to write, but, instead of being productive, I was looking for inspiration on my Facebook feed. You know, procrastinating. Just as I was about to come to my senses and start my work, I got a Facebook message from a friend.

“Dude, you NEED to check this band out. It’s like the perfect mix of August Burns Red and Between the Buried and Me.”

As an undisclosed metalhead, and as a writer looking for any reason to avoid actual work, I took the bait.

Excitement turned to disappointment. Instead of gnarly riffs and grooving rhythms, YouTube served me an ad. And not just any ad — a 30-second spot selling me on the silky-smooth features of Venus Razors.

I installed an ad blocker and didn’t see an online ad for three years.