Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
The cultural expectation in startup ecosystems that successful entrepreneurs and investors should help newcomers, supposedly creating a virtuous cycle. In practice, it's often networking disguised as altruism.
Company valuation after investment capital is added, the number founders brag about while carefully omitting the 'post-money' qualifier. What your company is theoretically worth with someone else's money included.
A VC who claims they'll actively help your company through connections, advice, and support, as opposed to just wiring money. Reality: they'll make three intros, attend two board meetings, then ghost you unless you're a unicorn.
Services and resources VC firms provide beyond capital, such as recruiting help, PR support, or customer introductions. Marketing speak that ranges from genuinely useful to completely fictional.
A funding round where the company valuation is explicitly set and shares are sold at a specific price per share, unlike convertible instruments that defer pricing. It's the grown-up version of fundraising, with actual valuations and everything.
A punitive clause forcing existing investors to participate in future rounds or lose their special privileges—the venture capital equivalent of 'put up or shut up.' Popular after market downturns when companies need to separate real believers from fair-weather friends.
Emergency financing raised by a struggling startup at unfavorable terms just to avoid immediate shutdown. It's the fundraising equivalent of pulling the ripcord on a failing skydive.
The fancy business term for a proposal or offer, usually dressed up with adjectives like 'value' or 'unique' to make it sound more impressive than 'hey, wanna buy our stuff?' In startup pitch decks, the 'value proposition' is that one slide where founders explain why anyone should care about their idea, typically using a Venn diagram that doesn't quite make sense. A good proposition answers 'what's in it for me?' before the listener falls asleep.
The sacred privilege granted to investors allowing them to maintain their ownership percentage in future funding rounds by ponying up more cash. It's like a VIP pass that lets you keep throwing money at a company before it becomes wildly successful or spectacularly flames out.
The startup mantra that romanticizes abandoning your original business plan when it becomes clear nobody wants what you're building. It's plan B through Z, pitched as strategic thinking rather than desperate flailing.
A clause letting preferred investors double-dip by getting their liquidation preference back AND participating in the remaining proceeds with common shareholders. It's having your cake, eating it too, and taking a slice of everyone else's.
The glossy sales document that makes every investment opportunity look like the next Amazon and every university look like Hogwarts, carefully balanced between legal obligation and marketing fantasy. In startup land, it's the formal document that transforms 'three guys in a garage with an app idea' into 'disruptive technology platform poised for exponential growth.' Every prospectus contains enough disclaimers to absolve everyone of everything while somehow still convincing you to hand over your money.
A funding round where the company's valuation is explicitly set and shares have a specific price—as opposed to convertible instruments where everyone kicks the valuation can down the road. Forces uncomfortable conversations about what the company is actually worth.
A funding round with so many small investors that the cap table looks like a nightclub guest list—lots of names, minimal commitment from anyone. Usually signals either a hot deal everyone wants a piece of, or a desperate founder who couldn't land a lead investor.
A timeline of planned features that will be delivered late, if at all—your product team's creative fiction exercise. It exists primarily to give the sales team something to promise prospects that engineering will later disappoint.
When VCs make investment decisions based on superficial similarities to previous successful startups rather than rigorous analysis. It's why they love Stanford dropouts building social apps in their dorm rooms.
A theoretical timeline for when a company will stop losing money and become self-sustaining; usually a fictional document written for investors.
Fake stock that feels like ownership but isn't, giving employees the illusion of having skin in the game without actual legal rights. It's participation trophy capitalism.
Financial projections showing what a company's metrics would look like under hypothetical conditions or future scenarios. Latin for 'as a matter of form,' startup-ese for 'this is the fantasy we're selling investors.'
A go-to-market strategy where the product itself drives customer acquisition, retention, and expansion rather than traditional sales teams. Users fall in love before ever talking to a salesperson.
The right to maintain one's ownership percentage in subsequent funding rounds by investing additional capital proportionally. The 'I called dibs' clause of venture capital.
That mythical moment when your product stops being something you force people to use and they actually want it. Also known as 'the point founders finally sleep at night.'
A small-scale demonstration that your idea actually works before you burn through millions scaling something that doesn't.
Special shares that get priority in liquidation, dividends, or control—essentially investor insurance against founder incompetence.