Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
The year a venture capital fund closes and begins making investments, used to compare fund performance across similar time periods. It's like birth year for wine or funds—context that matters for quality assessment.
The phase between seed funding and Series A where many startups run out of money and crash; basically startup purgatory.
A funding round with so many small investors that the cap table looks like a nightclub guest list—lots of names, minimal commitment from anyone. Usually signals either a hot deal everyone wants a piece of, or a desperate founder who couldn't land a lead investor.
Contractual provisions granting investors access to a startup's financial statements, board minutes, and other operational data. Essentially, the legal right to know how badly founders are spending their money.
The speed at which a VC fund invests its committed capital. Deploy too fast and you look desperate; too slow and your LPs wonder if you can actually find deals.
A fledgling company designed for rapid growth and scale, typically fueled by venture capital, caffeine, and the unwavering belief that this time will be different. These entrepreneurial ventures aim to disrupt industries, change the world, and achieve unicorn status—though most will pivot three times and run out of runway first. It's where innovation meets delusion in the most optimistic way possible.
The soul-crushing moment when a founder's ownership percentage shrinks because the company issued more shares to new investors. It's weaker coffee, but for equity—you still own shares, they're just worth relatively less of the pie. Every funding round brings this special joy, where you simultaneously celebrate getting money and mourn losing control.
A provision preventing startups from soliciting other offers while negotiating terms, ensuring you can't play investors against each other. The dating equivalent of 'we're exclusive now' after one coffee.
A corporate action where shareholders finally get to convert their paper wealth into actual money—or discover their shares are worthless after preferences. It's payday or apocalypse, with no middle ground.
The startup founder's obsession—that magical unicorn metric combining customer benefit, market size, and the ability to eventually turn a profit (someday, maybe). Investors worship at this altar; users actually experience it.
A theoretical timeline for when a company will stop losing money and become self-sustaining; usually a fictional document written for investors.
A professional investor who manages large funds and makes risky bets on startups—essentially a gambler with better PR.
The portion of TAM you can actually reach with your sales and marketing strategy—much smaller than TAM but still wildly optimistic.
A venture fund structure where capital commitments are made quarterly rather than in one large closing, allowing GPs to start investing immediately. The subscription model comes to venture capital.
A venture fund that's technically alive but has stopped making new investments, usually because performance is so bad that raising a follow-on fund is impossible. It shambles along, managing existing investments until the limited partnership agreement expires.
A timeline of planned features that will be delivered late, if at all—your product team's creative fiction exercise. It exists primarily to give the sales team something to promise prospects that engineering will later disappoint.
Rights allowing majority shareholders to force minority shareholders to join in selling the company. Corporate democracy's escape hatch, where your vote doesn't matter if enough people with more shares decide differently.
The magical moment when your paper wealth becomes actual money you can spend—typically through an acquisition or IPO. It's what everyone's working toward but few actually experience.
A marketplace where shareholders can sell their existing equity to other investors, providing liquidity before an IPO or acquisition. It's the emergency exit when waiting for an actual exit feels like waiting for Godot.
The early-internet ideology that all digital content and services should be freely available to everyone, or at least subsidized by someone else willing to foot the bill. A utopian dream that helped kill the dot-com bubble.
Net Promoter Score—a survey asking customers how likely they are to recommend you (0-10). Mostly used to confirm whatever founders already believe about customer satisfaction.
The right to maintain one's ownership percentage in subsequent funding rounds by investing additional capital proportionally. The 'I called dibs' clause of venture capital.
When a startup seeks a lead investor for their next round who isn't part of their existing investor group, potentially signaling problems or a desire for fresh perspectives. It's the venture capital equivalent of changing friend groups.
A go-to-market strategy where the product itself drives customer acquisition, retention, and expansion rather than traditional sales teams. Users fall in love before ever talking to a salesperson.