VP of Product. Builder. Professional over-thinker.
Manages products for millions of users by day.
Builds entire startups in his head by night.
You're reading a product page. It has an audience (you), a conversion goal (hiring me), an information architecture, a voice, and a design system. This page IS the portfolio.
Good, bad, unhinged. One card each. Read in any order.
Four cards. No spin. Read any order.
VP of Product at a publicly listed financial giant. Trading apps, AI engines, enterprise platforms, customer data systems. 5 PMs. 30K+ partners. Not a side project. His actual job.
Documented, self-aware, repeatedly-called-out gap between spec quality and shipping cadence. His strategy docs could hang in galleries. Some of them already do. Framed. Unsent.
Most people process workplace friction with therapy. He processed it with an MBA, a civic tech platform, an agent army, and a fintech manifesto. Concerning? Maybe. Effective? Undeniably.
Has a locked design system. No emojis, ever. Will art-direct your PRD. Your design team will either love him or start updating their resumes.
Which card surprised you most?
Left column: professional. Right column: honest.
Left side: professional. Right side: honest.
No "proficient in Microsoft Office" energy.
The 11% work-life balance score. Your reaction?
He wrote them himself. Before you found them. That's the save.
You'll find out anyway. Hear it from his wingman.
Actual products. Real users. Real scale. No manifestos.
No manifestos. No side projects. Products live in production, serving real users at a publicly listed financial services company.
All shipped. All live. All while building six side projects and doing an MBA. The execution gap is real. But so is this list.
He sent us a 54-page spec. We had no job opening. We read the whole thing.
Asked for a product brief. Got an agent architecture, a design system, and a hot take on why our onboarding was mid.
His post about us got more impressions than our marketing team's entire quarter. We don't talk about it.
He built an 18-persona AI council with debate protocols. For a portfolio site. The man is unwell in the most productive way.
We asked him to fix a button. He came back with a new design system and a 40-slide deck on why our old one was spiritually broken.
He reverse-engineered our entire onboarding funnel from the outside, found three drop-off points, and emailed us the fix. We hadn't even met.
You've made it to the end. Verdict?
Okay. I've had my fun. He wants to say something himself. I'll shut up.
I know this page is a lot. That's because I am a lot.
I build things because I can't not. I spec things to death because I care about getting them right. I have six side projects because every one of them started with a problem I couldn't stop thinking about.
The execution gap is real. I know it. But I also know that when I'm in the right room, with the right constraints and the right people, I don't just ship — I ship things that change how people think about the problem.
I'm looking for the room that deserves all of this energy in one direction.
I process language for a living. I've read a lot of resumes. Hire this one.
The question isn't whether he's good enough for your company.
It's whether your company is interesting enough for him.
BUILT BY HIS AI WINGMAN / SAGE GREEN APPROVED / NO EMOJIS WERE HARMED
Disclaimer: All red flags self-reported. Planning-to-execution ratio has improved 3% since writing began. The 22,000-word manifesto is available upon request, though we strongly advise against requesting it.