I've worn many hats at the creative agency I've been working at for the last 5 plus years. During that time I've been offere...


I've worn many hats at the creative agency I've been working at for the last 5 plus years. During that time I've been offered countless freelance jobs in design, video production, web development and more. I generally turned it down...

Until now. 

I found a few other super talented people and started a Boise Ad Agency. But oddly most of my new clients are out of San Francisco and Seattle thanks to my awesome network of friends. 

With the people I recruited there's nothing we can't do. So the next time you need some amazing creative work done, check out Senestre

I feel I now have the opportunity to do the best work I've ever done. So, I'm gunna. 

I create a lot of video/commercials for clients. I generally mean to share the work, but often forget to. It's only been two months ...


I create a lot of video/commercials for clients. I generally mean to share the work, but often forget to. It's only been two months but here are two spots I created for TSheets.

When I was 19, I was a freelance artist for a T-shirt shop. I didn't make much money, I didn't make many friends (it was rather c...


When I was 19, I was a freelance artist for a T-shirt shop. I didn't make much money, I didn't make many friends (it was rather competitive), I didn't make many shirts.

But it was easily one of the biggest learning experiences of my life.

I believe that anyone who eventually enters a stage of adulthood wishes that during their youth there was a class called "Adulting" on the curriculum. How to pay taxes, how to open a checking account, how to eat like a real person. I am in my 40s and I still squeak by today. I do okay... but I squeak.

Back in the T-Shirt illustrating slave-shop illustrating days, I shared a house with 2 other friends, I drove a car that I barely paid for with cash, I attempted to go to school part-time with books I borrowed from friends because I was incapable of buying them on my own. I drank Dr. Pepper and ate M&M's for every meals because I didn't own pans or a microwave. I could barely feed myself so imagine when I learned I needed to contribute to a potluck that was feeding 50some other people.

It was a list on a board. "Employee Potluck" followed by a lengthy food list with many, many names next to them. Some of them were pretty elaborate.

BBQ Chicken
Potato Salad
Tiramisu

Seriously? Tiramisu? What sort of sadist would ask a group of misfits to being such a complicated dessert that even today I couldn't tell you a single ingredient to.

Most of the items were taken. Some were crazy easy like: Plastic forks, cups, water.

Water? I can do water all day.

Baked Beans. No one has jumped at the opportunity to bring baked beans. It's one thing, right? Beans, baked!

Without hesitation I scribbled my name down. I dodged a bit of a baking bullet. I grabbed one of the last easy items on the list.

I had a few days before the potluck so I didn't do much prep-work other than remind myself to go to the store and pick them up. The day of the event I decided was a good time. I had a few hours, I was feeling good. I got in my shitty car and drove to Costco with my roommate who I was forcing to tag along for two reasons. I didn't really wish to talk to the people I worked with, and his Dad gave him a Costco card, an item I didn't have.

We walked in and purchased two very large cans of Baked Beans. That couldn't have been any easier. We threw them in the back seat and made our way to the beach. We were actually a bit early, that was rather adult of me.

We walked over and placed the two large cans of beans on the table, stood a little taller as we eyed our prize. Beans for everyone.

We drank punch, kicked sand, said hi to the few people we could tolerate and thought that maybe this wasn't going to be such a crappy even anymore. Then I heard from the table.

"What idiot brought cans of beans?"

I turned to see one of the Creative Directors, essentially my boss, holding a can of beans in awe.

"Who brings a can of unopened beans to a party? Are we supposed to open them with our teeth?"

I was a fool. For two reason. First off, it never once occurred to me to physically open them. I mean, if I did... then what? I didn't own a pan to place them in. The second reason I was a fool? I said "That was me."

I was then explained to that one simply doesn't just bring a can of beans. You purchase them, take them home, place them in a dish and warm them up. You top them off with a nice layer of foil to keep them warm.

That hadn't even crossed my mind. But I should let you know, I did actually own a can opener, I wasn't a caveman.

I asked if anyone had a can opener, one of the artist's husbands reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

"I do", as he revealed a very rusty, Army surplus can opener on his key chain. He proudly handed it to me and stared as I realized this was my job.

After the 15 minute learning curve of how it worked, I slowly exposed the beans as I mixed in shards of metal and a little blood.

It was a tough learning curve figuring that out.

45 minutes later, one can was open. I figured I'd hold off on the other until everyone ate the spoils.

LET THE POTLUCK BEGIN!!!!

All artists, all hungry artists, dug in. Chicken went fast, there was baked mac that might as well have been heroin. The person who said they'd bring Tiramisu never even showed up. You'd think they'd be the butt of the potluck jokes.

Nope, it was still me. No one was eating my beans. But not because they didn't look tasty with those glittering pieces of metal. They didn't have a spoon. I walked the table and manage to steal the baked mac utensil. It looked lonely. I jammed it in the beans.

Still, no takers. I assumed perhaps it was the fact that no one wanted to break the seal. I decided to take the spoon and get as large of a spoonful that I could, then flick it off towards the bushes. My aim was true. I then stood by the beans and waited. I thought to even ask if table-goers wanted any. But I didn't wanna to seem pushy.

End of pot lock, no go. Not a single person ate my beans. But should I be sad? The reality its no. I mean, I now own two giant cans of beans. I'm going to eat like a farty king for a week. I grabbed my beans and headed to my car. I ask my roommate to place them between his legs and we head home. I didn't learn until later that twice during the ride home, the open can tipped over, leave stray beans and a bit of juice on my floor. A smell that was a pleasant reminder for the next few months of the event. I placed beans in my fridge and resumed life.

A few days later I learned a new adult lesson. Don't leave exposed food in your fridge, that you intend to eat, for several days in your fridge.

This month my company is planning a Thanksgiving Pot Luck. How has life changed? I plan to take the toughest thing on the list, and nail it.

And this time, remember a spoon.


... and I made it into a little video from our Boise Ad Agency 4 days with water and a bit of glamping. A work trip that spoiled us all...


... and I made it into a little video from our Boise Ad Agency

4 days with water and a bit of glamping. A work trip that spoiled us all. Looking forward to next year.


There are videos on the interwebs that undoubtably will change my mood to gooder any moment of the day. Is it fair to NOT share them with...


There are videos on the interwebs that undoubtably will change my mood to gooder any moment of the day. Is it fair to NOT share them with the World? Come back anytime you can when you're down... smile... then share them with the rest of the sad society.

Night Rider Banjo


Puppet Tom Sawyer


Ode to Steve Irwin


Weezer Students Go Bad


Ode To Youtube (yes, I made this)

A few years back I took 9 months to travel a few states and film a ghost documentary. It sparked from my odd interest in ghost shows, and...


A few years back I took 9 months to travel a few states and film a ghost documentary. It sparked from my odd interest in ghost shows, and my desire to either expose them for the fraudulent productions they are, or figure out if ghosts really even existed.

Spoiler alert: I don't believe in ghosts.

It wasn't your typical ghost documentary. First off, it was all real. I didn't fake anything, I didn't represent anything in any fashion to sway your opinions. It was all as it happened.

Second is, I made it funny. I'm technically a horrific show off so that came across in the filming. It was light hearted and honest. Not what you generally get in a ghost doc.

So with that, I've had a few mixed reviews. In most part, people really loved the film. Ghostumentary sits on Amazon Prime with 3.5 starts out of 5. Out of the 95 reviews, 46% gave it 5 stars. Only 17% gave it 1 star.

I've given Amazon reviews before. If I feel betrayed by a product, I'm going to let the seller know. If the product changed my life for the better, even in the slightest way, I'm going to scream it from the 5 star soap box they offer. I don't think I'd make much of an effort for a body wash that was "just okay". It did its job and I don't feel the need to pat it on the back.

But not all people are like me. Some people really want to be heard. And after then watch Ghostumentary, they really REALLY want to be heard.

Here are some of my favorite Ghostumentary reviews.

Let's start slow, and with the most recent review.

It's actually a bit of a compliment for someone to go that far out of their way just to give you a "meh". So this one actually makes me a little happy. She doesn't have time to use capitals, but time for a review. And also, if what we did was normal to her... I want her life.

Then there's this.

Ghost dick. Someone who would so elegantly write a poor review of my film only to title it, Ghost Dick. Who is this person? How do you make this person happy? What other types of things have they reviewed?

Our friend Mark Melchior is a little more fickle that I assumed he might be. If our film was just good enough for him, we wouldn't have received 5 stars. I mean, even if it works, it's not good enough. 

Even if our movie was "Always good" we'd be short of that glorious 5th star. What does one have to to do to get a high score with this guy? 

There ya go. Sweet and smooth. My next movie has one goal now. To be sweet and smooth. Then I'm sending a screener to his house for my first reviews. Signed, Ghost Dick. 

Here's the second review that referred to us as "narcissistic".


But THEN calls us "Grown Ups" so this is actually one of my favorite views. My favorite part of this is "I do not believe in ghosts, but I am fascinated by ghost stories as exercises in the human imagination." This is why I did Ghostumentary. This was me 3 years ago. This was probably the review I would have left. Sure, I got 2 stars but a feel this person was truly my audience and I evoked enough emotion in this person that they needed to speak out. So though I seem to mock, I honestly tip my hat and say "I get it". 

But not everyone cared about the core filmmakers. 


Because my son, who was in the movie for 20 minutes, stole the show. But I gotta admit, he really did.

But more about us.
How dare you call this a "mockumentary"!

But sometimes they just really hate me.
This was one of my first, written out, bad reviews. Prior to this I got a bunch of "Dumbs" or "Mehs". This was the first one to specifically call me out. Not only did it call me out, it labeled me as the reason they hated the movie. I reached out from their TV and bunch them in their brains. I read further to learn that they'd watch a sequel if I recast myself. "Now play the part of Bill Doty, Brad Pitt." Then I got to the bottom. It all made sense. It was date night and I ruined it. I cock-blocked via video-on-demand. For this, I'm sorry. I think I owe you a bottle of wine, and a pizza.

The good news is, she really dug those Leopard Ears. 

Like I said, most reviews are terrific. Many loved the movie, us, and what they learned. Some have given one star, one word reviews. People still watch it every day and occasionally reach out to me online to let me know they enjoyed it. 

It was an amazing experience and I'd do it again. Oh yeah, I am. But once a week I still go online and check out the reviews. I inhale them and think about how to make a better movie. Hopefully next time, I'm reading your review. 

Just think of something better than Ghost Dick.