Sam and Shaan cover the Laird Superfood story and debate Trump’s “body as battery” theory before Shaan launches an NFT experiment giving one buyer five minutes of airtime on the show. They cover a listener who tried the “Stripe for vice” idea (payment processing for cannabis) and what happened next. Sam pitches FIGS for construction — a premium DTC brand for outdoor workers — which Shaan rebuts with Carhartt. They explore Meow Wolf (immersive art warehouses projecting $40M/year per location), the Blockworks crypto events empire run by a 26-year-old, and close with a conversation about realistic angel investing returns from a top-tier seed investor.
Speakers: Sam Parr (host), Shaan Puri (host)
Laird Hamilton and the Superfood Brand [00:00:00]
Sam: Do you know who Laird Hamilton is?
Shaan: The surfer?
Sam: Yeah. When you think of the phrase “surfer hunk,” he’s the guy. He’s in his late 50s — 57, something like that. Absolutely ripped. Dedicated his life to surfing. He’s said he might be a little autistic — obsesses on a goal until he achieves it. For a long time that was finding the biggest wave. He invented tow-in surfing.
Eventually he got obsessed with health. Eliminating sugar, eliminating flour, just being extremely healthy. And out of that came a company called Laird Superfood. He’s obsessed with coffee, drinks tons of caffeine, and didn’t want to use almond milk or Oatly or whatever else — so he invented this creamer. Now they sell a bunch of different creamers and health foods.
Second thing: it went public. It’s on the New York Stock Exchange, ticker Laird Superfood. Revenue around 40-50 million, market cap around $163 million. Highest it ever was was double that.
Shaan: That seems too small to be public. Like a penny stock.
Sam: Yeah. But here’s what makes it interesting to me: when I see someone like Laird Hamilton, who’s lived this lifestyle for 50-something years and is clearly ripped at that age, I have a higher level of trust when he’s selling me a creamer or breakfast waffles. Versus Ryan Gosling’s gin — where it’s clearly just “celebrity face plus generic product equals branded thing.” Laird’s different. He’s walked the walk.
Trump’s Battery Theory [00:07:00]
Sam: Okay, second thing. I’ve been working out really hard — ten workouts a week sometimes, always sweating, moving a lot. And it got me thinking about this thing Trump said once. Someone asked him after a physical why he doesn’t exercise. He goes: “It’s a waste of time. I don’t want to waste my energy. My body’s like a battery — I’m not going to use my battery on exercise when I could be building businesses.”
I have no idea if there’s any validity to this. It’s probably the stupidest thing ever. But I’ve been thinking about it — if our hearts can only beat so many times in a lifetime, am I wasting mine by being sweaty all the time? Like Laird Hamilton talks about recovery constantly. And I’m thinking — maybe just go for walks. Where’s the threshold where more exercise doesn’t actually help?
Shaan: I hear you but — the body is not like a battery with a fixed charge. It’s more like a fire. You need to keep adding fuel or the flame dies. Your heart and other muscles grow stronger with use. Not using them doesn’t preserve your precious energy marbles so you live to 200 — it means they atrophy.
Sam: Look at Laird Hamilton at 57. Then look at Trump. Which body and energy level do you want? That should guide you.
Shaan: The answer is obvious.
Sam: Yeah. I’m just thinking out loud. Trump’s battery thing — it’s like my sister when I was a kid. I was supposed to check if she was studying for a test. I walked in, she’s laying down, eyes closed. I go, “You’re supposed to be studying.” She goes, “I’m reviewing in my head.” I was like, “Oh, sorry.” Went back to my mom and said she’s reviewing. She was definitely sleeping. That’s Trump’s battery theory to me. Just a convenient excuse.
The NFT Experiment: Five Minutes of Fame [00:14:00]
Shaan: Okay, I want to talk about this OpenSea thing. So I just finished my crypto week — I blocked off a week, cancelled everything, and went neck-deep in crypto. Not watching from the sidelines. Creating.
I had this idea, and I’ve already made it. It’s ready to go. I created an NFT called “Five Minutes of Fame.” It’s a one-of-one token. Whoever owns it gets the right to five minutes of airtime on our show — now or anytime in the future. You can hold it for five years if you think we’re going to be much bigger. Once you want to use it, you burn it. You send it to our wallet. When we receive it, that’s our signal — come on the show, do whatever you want. Promote your thing, brainstorm with us, ask questions. Just nothing vulgar or hateful.
And you can sell it. If you buy it and think the show will be twice as big in two years, you can flip it for more.
I’m starting the floor price at 0.5 ETH. Less than one Ether. Running for one week after this episode airs. Go to OpenSea, search “Five Minutes of Fame My First Million.”
Sam: That’s cool.
Shaan: The idea is: money is frozen time. I go do work, I get money, I give that money to a restaurant and say “thaw that frozen block of time — cook me some food.” So I just took five minutes of airtime and froze it. Anyone can buy it, hold it, use it, or flip it.
We don’t take sponsors anymore — HubSpot’s the only one — so if you wanted to buy airtime on this show, this is literally the only way.
The “Stripe for Vice” Listener Story [00:21:00]
Sam: Okay, I want to talk about this guy who tried our “Stripe for vice” idea. We pitched this a while ago — our friend Sully came up with it, I brought it to the podcast.
The idea: Stripe and other payment processors have terms of service that ban cannabis, crypto, get-rich-quick schemes, mug shot removal sites, porn. So the move is to clone Stripe’s product quality and developer experience, but with open terms of service. It’s a great way to compete against big incumbents — do exactly what they explicitly say they won’t do. Stripe can’t do cannabis because it would threaten their banking relationships. OnlyFans is safe for the same reason Instagram will never add that feature.
So this guy on Twitter — handle is Skyler, @schuyler something — posted a thread saying: “Public service announcement for all My First Million fans. I took their Stripe for vice idea, grew it to $400,000 a month in under 60 days, and then got pushed out by literal gangsters.”
Here’s the story: he looked at Stripe’s terms of service, made a list of every banned category, and started cold emailing companies in those niches. In parallel, tried to find payment infrastructure. Galileo said no. Synapse said no. But he found a small Canadian local bank that, for a monthly fee, would work with him. He set it up. Online dispensaries and cannabis companies start using it. He’s doing $400K a month.
Then he says he joined one of these cannabis companies — they needed help, it was profitable, he came on board. Started spending — moved into a condo in downtown Vancouver, flying first class to Turks and Caicos, $13K a night at hotels. And then the company they were sourcing product from was “run by crooked gangsters.” They started harassing him and his family. He eventually paid them off in a bag of cash in a park and walked away from the business.
Shaan: That last part sounds a little fanfiction-y.
Sam: Very fanfiction-y. I googled him a bunch. I think some of it might be real — maybe he tried to start it, maybe someone sketchy emailed him — but the bag of cash in the park? I’m skeptical. He needs to show some receipts.
That said, I never lie, but I actually think more people should lie. Like, why doesn’t everyone just make things up online? It’s shockingly effective.
Shaan: I used to exaggerate constantly. Some of it was just letting people run with wrong assumptions — I didn’t correct them, so technically I didn’t lie. But it all came from insecurity. About five years ago I just decided: I’m only going to say what the actual situation is and let the chips fall. So freeing.
There’s a programming concept called threading — when multiple processes run at once and eat up all the memory. That’s what lying does in your head. You have to keep two threads open: what you said, and what’s true. Drains you of energy. I don’t do it anymore.
FIGS for Construction [00:32:00]
Sam: Okay, I’ve got an idea. FIGS — you know what FIGS is?
Shaan: The scrubs brand.
Sam: Exactly. They made better-looking medical scrubs — more flattering fit, different colors, patterns. Started with nurses. They went public at a $4.4 billion valuation, now at $7 billion. The articles are calling them “the next Lululemon,” “the next Nike,” “the Starbucks of scrubs.” Heather Hasson, the founder, looks like she belongs in Vogue — not who you’d picture starting a scrubs company.
So the idea: FIGS for construction. How many industries have large workforces that need specialty clothing and today just have a generic default? Construction workers, fracking crews, outdoor laborers — what if you built a premium DTC brand for them?
Shaan: Bro. Have you heard of Carhartt?
Sam: I know Carhartt! That’s an 1889 brand. I’m talking about a modern version.
Shaan: Carhartt IS the modern version. Go look at their fall collection — they’ve got cute kids’ stuff, Carhartt x Louis Vuitton collabs, college girls in Carhartt overalls. They’ve totally evolved. They ARE the thing you’re describing.
Sam: Okay but that doesn’t invalidate the idea. We always get DMs from people asking if something exists. Whether it does or doesn’t exist isn’t the point — the opportunity is the opportunity. And by the way, Duluth Trading Company does this too. They’re at $638 million in annual sales with a $500 million market cap. Carhartt is probably similar numbers.
Meanwhile, FIGS is at $7 billion on $250 million in revenue. Why? Because they built a story. “We’re the Starbucks for scrubs.” That’s just words — but the story worked. Duluth and Carhartt trade at low multiples because they don’t have a story.
There’s a playbook here. And the most important thing: you need an “us against the world” identity. FIGS worked because nurses felt overworked, underpaid, and overlooked. The brand said: “At least we’ll make you look good. You deserve that.” That mobilization is a turbocharger for DTC marketing.
Shaan: There’s also Grunt Style — US military/patriot branding. “Proud of the police, proud of the country, stick your vaccine somewhere else.” Very us-against-them vibe. Flags, rifles on whiskey glasses, aged-looking hats. I think they do over $100 million in sales. That us-versus-them thing is real for certain audiences.
Sam: Exactly. That’s the move. Pick a niche workforce, give them an identity, make them the hero of the story.
Meow Wolf and the Immersive Experience Business [00:44:00]
Sam: Okay, here’s something weird I found. George Barber — his dad started a dairy farm in Alabama, George eventually sold it for $500-600 million. With that money he opened a museum and built an F1 race track. Now he has the largest motorcycle collection in the world, hosts Formula 1 races, motorcycle races, NASCAR. People come from around the world.
That got me interested in this category: places where you just go to see interesting things, pay a little money, and leave. Which led me to Meow Wolf.
Shaan: I know that name.
Sam: It started in 2008 in Santa Fe. They rent these massive old warehouses, hire artists who don’t usually make money, and create what I can only describe as a haunted house meets museum meets Cirque du Soleil. You pay around $50, walk through. It’s immersive art — hard to explain but you get it when you see pictures. Massive installations, surreal environments, very much like a rave meets a museum.
They’ve raised $250 million. They project one location will make close to $40 million per year in sales. They’ve got locations in Las Vegas, Denver, opening in Austin and LA. They sold 500,000 tickets for the Vegas opening alone.
One location: $60 million in revenue, $30 million in profit. That’s insane.
Shaan: How do they get people to come?
Sam: They team up with local governments. Santa Fe actually did an economic study showing how much Meow Wolf helps the local economy. And they run Facebook ads — they look pretty cool because the exhibits are visually spectacular.
This reminded me of something I heard about years ago: Two-Bit Circus. The grandson of the guy who invented Chuck E. Cheese created this — same immersive concept but all interactive technology. Lasers, VR, you move your hand and things respond. A whole traveling pop-up museum. They’d set up a tent in the Bay Area, run it for four days, pull in 60,000 people, then pack up and hit the next city.
Shaan: That sounds incredible for kids.
Sam: It was incredible. And the guy I knew who worked there said the product was amazing — but the founders had shiny object syndrome. Facebook would say “do a private event for us” and they’d drop their systemized process to blow everyone’s mind at one special thing. Couldn’t stay focused. That’s why you don’t see more of these.
I’ve always thought there’s a massive opportunity for a traveling science-and-tech circus. Parents want to take kids. Science naturally makes for great exhibits. Learning plus visual stimulation. It’s basically a science fair on steroids, traveling city to city.
The Blockworks Events Empire [00:57:00]
Sam: I had dinner with my friend Jason, who runs Blockworks — basically The Hustle but for crypto. He just hosted a conference. Numbers he gave me: two-day event, $2 million in revenue, 50% profit margin, 800 attendees at $1,000-$2,000 per ticket.
He’s got another event coming up with a goal of $8 million in revenue and 5,000 attendees. He also did a smaller event called Bretton Woods — 200 large asset managers and institutional crypto investors. Close to $1 million in revenue, only four sponsors.
Shaan: And how old is Jason?
Sam: 26.
Shaan: That’s crushing it.
Sam: This is the playbook: pick the new wave, be the media brand for it, then run events. Events give you three things at once — you make money, you rub shoulders with everyone interesting in the space, and all those attendees subscribe to your premium products and evangelize to their networks. Win-win-win.
And here’s what I love: you get to pull the best ideas out of 200 of the smartest minds in your industry just by organizing the room. Jason’s not smart enough to predict the crypto future alone. But if you put 200 asset managers in a room and just listen? That intel is priceless.
Shaan: This is replicable in any niche. New VCs — you could be some random associate and organize a retreat for the next generation of venture capitalists. Pull 100 people into wine country, get a few speakers, do some glamping, charge $10K. Make money, build your network, own the niche.
Sam: Capital Camp does this already — it’s in Columbia, Missouri, my hometown. Private equity, sweaty businesses, cash-flowing real estate. They charge $10K. People who go say it’s completely worth it. They go back every year.
I’m actually spinning up a version of this for Club LTV — my e-commerce thing for store owners doing $1-100 million in revenue. Not trying to make a profit off it, just cover costs. But it’s my excuse to do something fun while building relationships in my own niche.
What Angel Investing Actually Pays [01:08:00]
Sam: Quick thing. I’ve got two angel investments from 2019: one just 50xed on paper, one just 12xed. Both on paper — not realized. But it’s something. It’s been this long stretch of watching money leave my bank account and wondering if it’s ever going to work.
Shaan: Those are great multiples. What did you invest?
Sam: Not going to say, but real amounts. Okay — I have something related. I texted a friend recently. Anonymous, but they’re a seed and early-stage investor who’s been doing this for 15 years. Multiple known public company winners in their portfolio. They manage other people’s money primarily, though they’ve also angel invested personally.
I said: “Feel free to brush me off, but what does winning actually look like financially? If you knock this out of the park over 15-20 years, what do you actually net?”
My guess: somewhere between $15-30 million over the lifetime of their career. I thought that was a reasonable best-case for angel/seed investing.
Shaan: I’d guess higher. Like $40-50 million.
Sam: You’re right that I was low. They said: “It should be much more than that — hard to say because a lot is still illiquid, but it should look more like $150 to $200 million.”
Shaan: No way.
Sam: Yeah. Multiple big winners. And they were not boasting — I pulled that out of them. I was like: so this is the equivalent of founding a billion-dollar company, just played out over 20 years. And they said basically: yes, but way easier.
The lesson: way more capital involved than what I’m investing. They’ve been compounding for 15 years, writing bigger checks, using other people’s money for most of it. But the takeaway for me was just — what does winning look like? What’s the ceiling? And it was way higher than I thought.
It’s boring. But it’s way easier. Not even close.
Shaan: That’s the show.
Sam: Never looking back.