Giving your content the ho phase it deserves

Why no one wants to bend your content over the algorithm (and how to fix it)

I’ve been doing some field research... and by that I mean doom-scrolling on a gummy while eating soft pretzels in bed... and I’ve come to a wild realization.

Content has gone dry down there.

▶️ There’s never any foreplay.

▶️ The lights are always off.

▶️ The socks are always on.

▶️ They’re always asking if it feels okay + apologizing for sweating. 🤢

▶️ And we never (I mean, NEVER) get out of the missionary position.

Too many humans are out here jamming their content into the feed like they’re trying to force their USB cable into the wrong hole.

NO RATTLING FRAMES.
NO BITE MARKS.
NO TINGLING IN ALL THE RIGHT PLACES.

Just a “here’s the tip; open wide.”

I mean, technically, if we’re being really generous (no size doesn’t matter 🙄), it’s getting the job something done.

But it’s NOT... how do I put this delicately… making anybody wet.

Not emotionally wet.

Not spiritually wet.

Not toes curled, quietly clutching a pillow while your parents are in the other room wet.

It’s giving eye contact with the waiter + calling their mamaw every Sunday...

It’s giving a climax that checked LinkedIn twice before it came...

It’s giving Deputy Flaccid Skin Flute in the streets + Captain Dry Hump Your Hip Off in the sheets... with thrusters that couldn’t even knock over a homemade chain reaction.

WHHHHYYYYY?

Why are we hiding our personalities like they’re STDs we don’t want anyone to know about??!

On one hand, I get it. Completely and utterly, had to dig myself out from under a decade of internet rubble that took 3 years, GET-IT!

Professionalism + pretending have been shoved down our throats so aggressively and for so long that 98.6% of the internet is a scene from a Mormon band camp where everyone’s using instruments to do naughty things to each other.

The internet professionally neutered us, while the gurus quietly vasectomized our voices, and every template + blueprint rubbed us so raw our entire gait has changed when we walk.

On the other hand (which btw, is also holding a margarita), our personalities haven’t been touched, acknowledged, or even LOOKED AT since AOL chat rooms, and they’re starting to develop Pornhub addictions to mask the pain.

They’re begging to be wanted... to be dangerous... to be lubed up + invited to do some reckless shit at 2pm on a random Tuesday.

Listen, I say this with love because I’ve been guilty AF of sock-on, lights-off, missionary posting, too—looking professional, sounding respectable, removing anyt hints that I mighta lived a real human life with real human fluids—but you can’t keep pulling out every time your personality gets close to coming + wonder why no one wants to bend you over the algorithm.

NO MORE HIDING. Not on my watch. Not in this economy.

So I did what any dry-era survivor with a margarita machine + a rage lady-boner would do… I built something wildly inappropriate to fix it.

It’s called... THE BRAND BURN.

As in, I’m gonna roast you like a fucking marshmallow + drag that sweet-ass personality out of you by the ankles.

It’s a week-long truth bender where I audit your content, roast it lovingly, give you the honest truth, rewrite one key piece to show you what you, but drunk on audacity, sound like, and walk you through the fixes in a detailed report + 1:1 debrief that’ll have you laughing, wincing, and screenshotting shit to send to your friends.

NUTSHELL:

—Stalk your last 90 days of content like a jealous ex

—Roast it like a tired mom who mixed edibles + tequila with her meds

—Rewrite something so YOU it makes your nipples hard

—Walk you through every detail of my findings while your newfound freedom twerks all over the algorithm’s face

And because I’m in my feral “I’ll try anything once 🤷‍♀️” era + looking for ways to fund my treehouse lifestyle without selling feet pics, I’m opening...

FOUR.
JANUARY.
SPOTS.

Pay now. Get roasted in your assigned January week. $1000 flat.

And hold the applause... there’s no “buy now” BS. This isn’t Costco!

You fill out a really feral application.

We see if we’re a good match.

If we are, I invoice you + we reserve your week.

Other than filling out the application + a short onboarding questionnaire, all YOU have to do is sit back, crack open a roadie, and laugh your way through your own BS, while I show you how to burn down the brand you’re hiding behind + rehab the human you’ve been catfishing your audience with.

If your content is strung-out-on-professionalism + giving missionary-with-the-lights-off-socks-on energy, but it’s ready for its ho phase… come get burned.

I double dog dare you.

MASKS OFF, FUNNIES OUT, get the tea on how to get your prescribed burn here…

P.S. Can you do this crazy broad a favor + share this email with the people in your life whose content is giving “dry hand job in a Honda Civic”? I’ll wish you good sex for 7 years if you do! I mean... can you really afford to pass up an offer like that? 💧

Founder, This Mustard-Stained Playground
Gangster, The Entire Internet (Since 2014)
Beer Hater, No Matter How It's Brewed (Since 1979)
Step into your YOU-SHAPED ERA: Your UNBrand DNA Results Are Waiting 🦄🦄🦄 »»»

NEW HERE? Don’t mind the mustard on my shirt. Welcome to my (Dre’s) savage, shameless, cart-sized revolution, where I expose why adulting is a scam, roast the systems that keep us feral, and experiment with healthier, human ways to live.

This isn’t your Aunt Betty’s newsletter. This is a safe place to land + a wild place to build from.

It’s the kinda place your mom warned you about. Where it’s safe to…

⚡️ Throw f-bombs around like confetti
⚡️ Show up in whatever bridge troll state you’re in
⚡️ Network in your pajamas
⚡️ Write with a stiff middle finger
⚡️ Swear about bros
⚡️ Launch things late, weird, and between drop-offs
⚡️ Laugh at yourself
⚡️ Change your mind publicly
⚡️ Trust your gut
⚡️ Ghost your Instagram
⚡️ Prioritize your happiness
⚡️ Charge what you want
⚡️ Confess your weird shit
⚡️ Be seen, soft, and savage… all at the same time
⚡️ Hard-fucking-pass
⚡️ Work 3 days a week
⚡️ Be a walking contradiction
⚡️ Declare “this is how I work”
⚡️ Create content that makes you belly laugh
⚡️ Build a life that doesn’t require recovery
⚡️ Be wildly visible + deeply private… at the same time
⚡️ Leave money on the table if it costs you your joy
⚡️ Slow down
⚡️ Measure success in freedom, not followers

P.S. Have you taken my UNBrand DNA Test^TM yet? It’s weirdly accurate, slightly unhinged, and ridiculously fun.

P.P.S. If you love a good binge, you can read all my past editions right here. If you want to support this hot dog cart-sized rebellion, upgrade to become a co-conspirator.

Who’s the nutcase behind this cart-sized flamethrower?

Well, hey there, internet stranger… soon to be kindred? Maybe? Possibly? Well, see soon enough. 🤷‍♀️

I’m Dre Beltrami, the OG of Branding Humans Leaving A Paper Trail for Weirdos to Find You. I write with a middle finger that's 90% intuition, 10% spite, and 0% respect for industry norms. Expect rants, rebellion, and business moves so feral they come with a confetti cannon. 🥳

If you’ve ever felt like a capitalist chew toy in a lead magnet death spiral…

CONGRATS… you’re home, weirdo! The Hot Dog Cart isn’t about growth hacks or scalable dreams. It’s a flame-throwing, margarita-soaked, stiff middle finger escape hatch to rescue your voice, your joy, and your weird-ass magic out of the jaws of the capitalist system. NO 6-figure flexes. NO problems dressed up as secrets. NO funnels with arms. Just liberation, one roasted weenie at a time.

I double DAWG dare you to…

This publication is NOT like the newsletters you’re used to.

The Hot Dog Cart is hosted on a gloriously human platform called Substack that has its own app + built-in social network. I highly recommend downloading the app. It’s ads-free, creator-friendly, and human AF. It’s the top shelf of places right now! And then, we can actually chat each other up. 🫶

DRE, OUT…