Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
IRS tax designation (Section 1202) that can exclude up to $10 million in gains from federal taxes for early startup investors, assuming you navigate the Byzantine requirements. The tax break that makes angel investing slightly less insane.
Startups built on fundamental scientific breakthroughs rather than clever software—the kind of company that requires physics PhDs and takes 10 years to become profitable, beloved by investors who want long-term moonshots.
Contract provisions allowing investors to force the company to buy back their shares after a certain period, typically if there's no exit. A rarely exercised nuclear option that reminds founders who really has the power.
Unsolicited outreach to investors or customers who have no idea who you are and probably don't care. The digital equivalent of knocking on strangers' doors, with similar success rates.
The maximum valuation at which a convertible note or SAFE will convert to equity—a safety net for early investors betting on you when you were nobody. The lower the cap, the more expensive your desperation was.
Building a company with personal savings, credit cards, and stress ulcers instead of venture capital—either a badge of honor or an excuse for slow growth, depending on your exit results. It's entrepreneurship on hard mode.
The corporate fantasy of growing a business exponentially while somehow maintaining quality, usually uttered right before everything falls apart. It's the process of increasing capacity to handle growth—or in startup speak, the thing you'll figure out later after raising millions in VC funding. In tech, it means making systems handle more users; in reality, it means discovering all the shortcuts you took when building the foundation.
The phenomenon where the worst investment opportunities are most aggressively marketed to investors, while the best deals are oversubscribed and hard to access. If they're begging you to invest, run.
A wealthy individual who invests their own money in early-stage startups, typically because they're either bored with normal investments or enjoy the thrill of watching their cash evaporate in creative ways. These financial guardian spirits usually write checks between $25K and $100K in exchange for equity, mentorship duties they may or may not fulfill, and the right to say 'I invested in that' at cocktail parties. They're called angels because founders pray for them, not because they're particularly heavenly.
Reserved portion of an acquisition's proceeds specifically allocated to employees or specific shareholders, ensuring they benefit even if the waterfall would otherwise drown them. Exit sharing mandated by negotiation or generosity.
Past tense of churning, describing customers who've abandoned ship or accounts that have been excessively traded for commissions. In the startup world, it's the past tense of failure—these are the users who tried your product and decided literally anything else was better. When your investors ask about churned customers, it's never a fun conversation.
A financing or exit event that triggers specific contractual provisions in a term sheet, such as conversion of convertible notes or acceleration of vesting. The legal trip-wire that determines when various startup agreements activate.
Money given to startups by firms who expect most of their investments to fail spectacularly, banking on one unicorn to pay for all the donkeys. VCs will fund almost anything if you put AI in the pitch deck and promise to disrupt something.
The pattern where a venture fund initially shows negative returns as it deploys capital and pays fees, before (hopefully) shooting upward when investments exit. A graph that looks like the letter J, assuming your fund doesn't remain in the vertical downstroke forever.
An experienced executive or advisor brought into a startup to add operational credibility and grown-up supervision to a young founding team. Think adult daycare, but for unicorn hopefuls.
The VC firm that sets the terms and does the heavy lifting in a funding round, while other investors gratefully follow along. Someone has to negotiate while everyone else free-rides.
A provision allowing limited partners to reclaim previously distributed carried interest from GPs if later losses reduce overall fund returns. The nightmare scenario keeping fund managers up at night.
When investors, customers, or acquirers proactively reach out to a startup rather than being solicited. It's the entrepreneurial equivalent of being asked to the dance instead of doing the asking.
A referral to an investor through a trusted mutual connection, as opposed to cold outreach. The difference between getting a response and having your email automatically archived.
A non-binding document outlining the key terms of an investment deal—think of it as a letter of intent that's about as reliable as a Tinder profile. The real fun begins when lawyers turn these bullet points into a 60-page agreement.
The privilege granted to preferred shareholders to convert their fancy preferred stock into common stock, typically exercised when they want to sell or when common stock becomes more valuable (rare but delightful). It's a one-way ticket that investors usually only take when they're confident they're not leaving money on the table.
The VC expectation that founders will make introductions, provide advice, and help other portfolio companies in exchange for investment and support. Networking as a contractual obligation.
Verbal commitments from investors to participate in a round that aren't legally binding, giving founders a sense of momentum that may evaporate when term sheets arrive. It's Schrödinger's capital raise.
When a company acquires a startup primarily to shut it down and eliminate competition, rather than to integrate talent or technology. It's the evil twin of acqui-hire where everyone loses except the shareholders.