Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
Sequential rounds of venture funding with progressively larger checks and increasingly skeptical investors asking harder questions.
The second institutional round where your company proves Series A wasn't a fluke—investors pony up $15M-$50M hoping you've figured out unit economics.
Informal promises of future equity that aren't documented in legal agreements, often made to early advisors or contributors. A lawsuit waiting to happen, wrapped in a handshake.
A system where VCs give small pools of capital to well-connected individuals to make investments on the firm's behalf. A brilliant way to outsource deal flow while paying in equity instead of salary.
A go-to-market strategy dependent on human sales teams to drive customer acquisition, typical in complex B2B products with long sales cycles. The opposite of letting the product sell itself.
The exhausting process of pitching multiple venture capital firms on Sand Hill Road in Menlo Park, often receiving similar feedback and soft rejections. It's speed dating for capital, and you're getting ghosted.
An investment strategy of making many small bets across countless startups, hoping a few will hit big enough to compensate for the inevitable carnage. The venture capital equivalent of buying lottery tickets in bulk.
The right to invest more than your proportional share in a subsequent round, allowing early investors to increase their ownership. Pro rata's aggressive older sibling who always wants more.
A marketplace where shareholders can sell their existing equity to other investors, providing liquidity before an IPO or acquisition. It's the emergency exit when waiting for an actual exit feels like waiting for Godot.
Restructuring that gives early investors and employees liquidity without selling the company, like a pressure release valve for cap table tension. An exit without the exit.
A fledgling company designed for rapid growth and scale, typically fueled by venture capital, caffeine, and the unwavering belief that this time will be different. These entrepreneurial ventures aim to disrupt industries, change the world, and achieve unicorn status—though most will pivot three times and run out of runway first. It's where innovation meets delusion in the most optimistic way possible.
The attempt to prove you weren't just lucky with Series A and that your unit economics actually work at scale.
The portion of TAM you can actually reach with your sales and marketing strategy—much smaller than TAM but still wildly optimistic.
A Stripe-era instrument designed to be even simpler than convertible notes—basically a promise to give equity someday, maybe.
An independent appraisal of your private company's value for tax purposes—made by third parties specifically so the IRS can't argue your strike price was fraudulently low.
When existing shareholders sell their shares publicly without the company itself receiving any money—basically using the company as a cash machine.
A strategy where investors make many small bets, then heavily support only the winners in subsequent rounds. The venture capital version of throwing spaghetti at the wall, then only cooking the pieces that stuck.
Stock-like compensation arrangements that mimic equity ownership without actually granting shares, often used to avoid dilution or regulatory complications. All the incentive alignment with bonus legal complexity.
Having personal capital at risk in an investment or venture, theoretically aligning interests between founders and investors. It's the 'put your money where your mouth is' principle, except everyone's mouth is usually writing checks their bank account can't cash.
Later-stage funding rounds (C, D, E, F, etc.) for companies approaching profitability or dramatic growth. The venture capital equivalent of 'we've lost count.'
Cloud-based software customers pay for monthly/yearly as subscriptions instead of licensing, the dominant startup business model.
The realistic revenue you can capture in the next 5-10 years—the number that makes your board members slightly less nervous than TAM.
A startup that's past the early stage and trying to grow as fast as possible. It's the phase where you hire thousands of people who aren't sure what the product is.
The price per share at which employees can exercise their stock options. Set artificially low so they can actually afford to buy their equity on the off chance it's worth something.