Let’s get one thing straight: I never set out to become a full-time thorn in the side of corporate PR departments. It just… happened. One minute I was making pizzas and cinematic TikToks, the next I was somehow getting blocked by three crypto CEOs, two sweatshop-fuelled apparel brands, and an Elon Musk owned company that once DM’d me “why?” followed by a cease and desist.
Welcome to my life: a place where calling out multi-million dollar companies is less of a hobby and more of a personality trait. Think of me as the digital equivalent of that guy in the pub who knows exactly how much Spotify pays per stream and isn’t afraid to ruin your pint by telling you. Twice.
The Accidental Activist Arc™
It always starts the same way. A brand does something cartoonishly evil; underpays artists, exploits a community, greenwashes an entire continent - and suddenly I feel my inner gremlin awaken. A few sarcastic comments, a cheeky meme, maybe a satirical landing page that somehow goes viral, and boom: another Fortune 500 company is pretending I don’t exist while quietly adjusting their messaging strategy.
To be clear, I’m not trying to cancel anyone. I’m just holding up a mirror and asking, politely but firmly, “Why does your reflection look like the final boss in a climate horror film?”
Growth: A Double-Edged Algorithm
Calling out the rich and ruthless has done wonders for my engagement. Every time I roast a corporate Frankenstein, the likes pour in, the comments turn feral, and the follower count ticks upward like a stock price manipulated by Elon Musk’s mood swings.
But it’s not all dopamine and dunks. Sometimes the same people cheering you on one week will call you “too negative” the next. Brands stop replying to emails. Former contacts ghost. And there’s always that charming inbox message that says something like:
“You’re just jealous because you’ll never be a billionaire lol.”
Correct. I am absolutely jealous - jealous of their ability to ignore nuance, ethics, and the Geneva Convention all in one quarterly report.
Reputation: The Price of (Mild) Honesty
There’s a weird tension in being known as that guy who drags companies. On one hand, it opens doors. I’ve been invited to write guest columns, answer journalistic questions, and weigh in on campaigns that want “authentic voices” - until they realise that “authentic” means I might call them out, too.
On the other hand, I’ve definitely burned bridges. Some weren’t even bridges - more like rickety planks being held together with expired influencer contracts and false promises of “exposure.” But still, you start to wonder: how many enemies can one person afford before the algorithm decides you’re just a bitter Marxist with an iPhone?
(Answer: three more. Then it’s back to making wholesome content about sunsets and cinematic visualisers.)
On a Personal Note:
Every time I post one of these corporate takedowns, I get a flurry of messages: some praising the bravery, others warning me I’ll never get brand deals again. Here’s the thing - I’m not trying to burn the whole system down. I just want people to think. To ask better questions. To stop mistaking convenience for kindness and PR for purpose.
Yes, it’s tiring. Yes, it can be isolating. But it’s also oddly freeing. There’s a strange joy in knowing you’re building something real - a reputation for honesty, a community that gives a damn, and the ability to look in the mirror and say, “At least I didn’t shill crypto scams for a skincare brand.”
Final Thought:
If you’re thinking of speaking up - do it. Just know that you’ll be labelled “difficult,” “unmarketable,” maybe even “obsessed.” But if you’re going to be known for something, it might as well be having a backbone in a world full of bendy influencers and bendier morals.
Besides, calling out corporations is cheaper than therapy. Slightly more dangerous. But definitely more fun.
Catch you in the DMs (unless your company’s legal team gets there first).