More About Me—You Didn’t Ask
Partial Origin Story
You know that scene in Forrest Gump where he’s been running across the country for years, and then one day, he just stops? Turns around, looks at everyone following him, and says, “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go home now.”
That’s where I’m at.
I’ve spent my life chasing everything—military, corporate gigs, politics, bartending, stand-up, improv. Some of it worked. Most of it didn’t. But every step along the way, I kept coming back to writing and comedy—because they’re the only things that let me be exactly who I am without getting fired.
From Nuclear Missiles to Casino Surveillance
My career path looks like a drunk man stumbling through a minefield. After high school, I joined the United States Air Force, working on Nuclear ICBM facilities under the Nuclear Surety Program. Once that was done, I moved back to Texas and spent a year looking for work before landing a job at a power generation company. That lasted six months.
I moved back to Las Vegas, where I did the casino crawl—busboy, barback, server at TGI Friday’s. The money was inconsistent, but at least it was sweet, unreported cash tips. The problem? People treat servers like garbage, and my shoes were wearing out faster than my will to live.
A friend got me a job in casino surveillance, starting at The Tropicana Hotel (RIP). I stuck with it for almost a decade, working graveyard shifts the whole time. I watched gamblers lose generational wealth in real-time, managers ignore theft until it affected their bonuses, and enough human stupidity to make Darwin roll over in his grave. I also realized that living in the dark, watching people make bad choices, and barely sleeping might be bad for relationships and brain function.
A Brutal Journey Into Comedy
Somewhere along the way, I found improv. It started with theater classes, then grew into a full-blown obsession. My thinking? If I couldn’t decide what I wanted to be, acting would let me be anything.
I trained at Second City Las Vegas until the 2008 financial crisis shut it down. That’s when I started commuting to Los Angeles for Groundlings—twice a week. Here’s what that looked like:
Get off work at 7 AM, drive 2.5 hours to LA
Take a 30-minute nap, go to class
Drive immediately back to Vegas, nap, then work another graveyard shift
Do it all again the next day
I kept that up for two years.
After a spectacularly bad breakup (or as I call it, a serendipitous shit storm of calamitous events), I said screw it, put in my two weeks, lived out of my car, and drove to Chicago.
Chicago was brutal. I was starting over again, bartending, taking Second City and iO classes, grinding through improv. Making friends and industry connections was damn near impossible. I jumped into stand-up, paid for showcases just to get stage time, and realized that the comedy grind is a beast—especially when you’re doing it alone.
Then, I met my wife, Felicia.
Suddenly, the struggle didn’t feel so crushing. She made it better. She supported me. She encouraged me. But at some point, I had to face reality. Comedy wasn’t going to happen—not the way I had dreamed.
And Then the Pandemic Hit
Right before the pandemic, things started coming together.
I got engaged, went back to school, and landed a great bartending gig. Then COVID hit, and everything imploded. My job was gone. My GI Bill ran out. I struggled to finish my classes. It sucked.
Felicia kept me sane.
We also found out we were pregnant.
With a baby on the way and no job, one of my best friends threw me some gig work. That’s how Alesian Strategies was born—a consulting business helping startups with pitch decks, grants, and funding strategies. It wasn’t what I planned, but it kept us going.
The One Thing I Couldn’t Get Fired From—Writing
Through all of it—military, odd jobs, cross-country moves, comedy failures, and pandemic chaos—the one thing I could always fall back on was writing.
I love history. I love analyzing power—who has it, how they keep it, and how they abuse it. I still believe in what America could be—the ideals, not the reality we get stuck with. So now, I write books that break it all down—with humor, because otherwise, I’d lose my mind.
📖 Immunity: How the Elite Stay Untouchable Through Weakness—a deep dive into how the powerful manipulate their own fragility.
📖 Gangland Democracy—coming soon, a no-BS look at how American politics became a glorified turf war.
I also write about the absurdity of life—power, politics, and the ways we’re all just lizard-brain creatures scrambling up the hierarchy of needs like it’s a damn obstacle course.
No More Hoops. Just Writing.
I spent years jumping through every hoop life threw at me. Now, I do the one thing I can’t get fired from. I write.
And if you’re here, reading this, maybe you’re just as tired of the bullshit as I am.
So let’s call it out together.
