BORING IS A DISEASE | ISSUE 001
And we don't want the cure.
Somewhere along the line, everyone got a bit too sensible.
We started optimising our mornings. Tracking our sleep. Counting our steps. Scheduling our fun three weeks in advance and sending a calendar invite for drinks.
We built morning routines with seventeen steps, bought water bottles the size of small children and started treating every mildly enjoyable hobby like it needed a five-year growth strategy.
Even our personalities became brands.
Everything got cleaner.
More curated.
More beige.
And frankly, a bit fucking boring.
There was a time when you just did things because they sounded like a laugh. You bought the stupid festival tickets. You started the band despite knowing approximately three chords. You went out on a Tuesday because someone texted 'pub?' at 8:43pm. You drove somewhere with absolutely no idea where you were sleeping. You tried skateboarding and were terrible at it. You started a business from bedrooms, garages, sheds and the back of vans, because you had £400, a questionable idea and enough delusion to think it might actually work.
Nobody called it 'building in public.'
You were just doing stuff. And we miss that.
TUESDAY CLUB IS FOR PEOPLE WHO DO STUFF.
Not necessarily impressive stuff. That's important. We're not interested in pretending everyone needs to climb Everest before breakfast. Sometimes doing stuff means running an ultra. Sometimes it means finally starting the thing you've talked about for three years. Sometimes it means getting on a motorbike. Sometimes it means going to a tiny gig when you have work at 8am. Sometimes it means ringing your mate and saying:
'This might be a terrible idea...'
And hearing:
'What time?'
Those are our people. The ones who don't need everything to make perfect sense before they begin.
WHEN DID WE GET SO SCARED OF BEING BAD AT THINGS?
Maybe that's part of it.
If you run, apparently you need Strava. If you make something, you need to monetise it. If you travel somewhere, you need content from it. If you start a hobby, within six months someone will ask whether you've thought about turning it into a business.
No.
Maybe I just want to be shit. Maybe I want t fall off a surfboard for six months until one day I don't. Maybe I want to make something purely because making it makes my brain feel good.
There should be more room in adulthood for doing things badly.
Actually, there should be more room in adulthood for doing things for absolutely no reason at all.
WE'RE NOT ANTI-AMBITIOUS
Quite the opposite.
Tuesday Club loves ambition. The ridiculous kind. The scribbled-on-a-napkin kind. The I genuinely think we could pull this off kind. Sometimes ambition is chaotic. Sometimes the best things you ever do start with absolutely no business plan whatsoever.
THIS ISN'T ABOUT COFFEE.
Obviously, there will be coffee.
Very good coffee, actually,
But there are enough coffee brands telling you about tasting notes and ethically sourced beans against a perfectly styled kitchen counter.
We'll get to the coffee.
For now, we're more interested in the person drinking it.
Where are you going? What are you building? What stupid idea have you convinced your mates to join you on? What have you always wanted to try? What would you do if you stopped worrying about whether you looked ridiculous doing it? That's Tuesday Club.
It's the coffee before the mountains. The one in the cup holder at stupid o'clock. The one beside the laptop when the business definitely isn't going to build itself. The one mid race to pull you out of your slump. The one handed to your mate while you both stare thinking:
"Holy shit this might work."
Have stories worth telling when you're old. But actually, create stories younger you would tell all their mates thinking it was the coolest thing they've saw.
Because boring might not actually be the disease. But we're still not taking any chances.
MAKE UNORDINARY, ORDINARY.
THE TUESDAY CLUB
Issue 001
Coffee coming soon. In the meantime, go do something.