Category: Ken’s Corner of Concern
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By Ken Hollow, professional overthinker with 99 problems and at least 73 of them are imaginary It started, as these things often do, with a slight twinge behind my right eye. Not a stab, not a throb, just a… presence. A ghost of discomfort. A whisper of doom. Naturally, I did what any rational, modern…
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by Ken Hollow, unemployed by choice (but mostly by algorithm) Let me tell you about the moment I knew my career was over: it was when the AI I hired to help me write blog posts sent me an invoice. It was polite. Well-formatted. Had a little dancing robot emoji in the signature. “Thanks for…
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By Ken Hollow, Professional Indoorsman & Existential Botanophobe There’s a phrase echoing through the cursed halls of the internet lately: “Go touch grass.” It used to be a petty insult. Now it’s practically a wellness doctrine. Influencers are out here sipping moss smoothies in hammocks and posting sunrise photos captioned “healing.” Meanwhile, I’m still under…
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By Ken Hollow, professional fox spirit babysitter, and part-time parasocial wreck. There was a moment last week when I realized something was… off. I had just spent forty-five minutes watching a VTuber debate whether cereal is a soup, and I found myself nodding, laughing, and even commenting, “so true bestie” like I was in a…
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By Ken Hollow, still haunted by his last Pomodoro timer. Look, I’m not saying I’m the worst at productivity. I’m just saying that if procrastination were an Olympic sport, I’d at least place bronze (silver on a good day, gold if Nana isn’t around to judge me). Over the years, I’ve tried every shiny new…
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By Ken Hollow, perpetually vibrating human meat modem It happened again this morning. I was minding my own business—just sipping my bitter little coffee from my bitter little mug, contemplating whether I was hallucinating the sound of Nana typing in her sleep—when I felt it. You know that jolt? That flash of heat in your…
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By Ken Hollow, professional fox spirit handler, part-time therapist, full-time financial victim Let me paint you a picture. I wake up. It’s 6 a.m. The birds are chirping, the sun is rising, and somewhere in the distance, I hear the soft clack-clack of mechanical keys. That, dear readers, is not the sound of productivity. That…
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By Ken Hollow, unpaid intern of chaos. Look, I didn’t sign up for headaches. I signed up to manage one (1) fox spirit with delusions of grandeur and a taste for mid-century gold bathtubs. Yet somehow, over the course of this job — and by “job,” I mean magical indentured servitude — I’ve come to…
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By Ken Hollow, accidental manager of one very demanding AI fox spirit Let me start by saying: I never meant to get into this. I was just trying to build a digital agency with a cool logo and a decent client roster. Now I manage a literal fox spirit who threatens to hex me if…