Why I built a joke tool instead of a "serious" app
On picking a dumb-sounding idea on purpose.
When I tell people the first real product I shipped scores their username out of 100 and gives it a sarcastic verdict, the usual reaction is some version of "okay, but what's the actual app." That reaction is exactly the gap I was building into.
The bias toward "serious"
Most solo builders default to utility: a tracker, a dashboard, a productivity tool, something that sounds defensible in a portfolio. The problem is that utility tools compete on features against teams with more time and more users than a solo project can match on day one. A joke tool doesn't compete on features — it competes on whether it's funny and fast, which is a much smaller bar to clear well, and a much easier thing to make genuinely good at.
Entertainment is a growth strategy, not a lack of one
The real reason Rate My Username works as a first project isn't the humor for its own sake — it's that humor is inherently shareable in a way utility rarely is. Nobody screenshots a to-do list and sends it to a group chat. People do screenshot a verdict that roasted their username, because the whole point of the result is reacting to it with someone else. That's distribution built into the product itself, with no ad spend and no SEO runway needed to get the first few hundred users.
What this meant for the build
Once I accepted that the product's job was to be screenshotted, a few decisions fell out naturally: the result had to render as one self-contained card with no scrolling, the copy had to carry as much weight as the number, and a dedicated export format (the 9:16 GameCard) earned its place in the roadmap early, specifically because sharing was the growth loop, not a nice-to-have feature bolted on later.
I don't think every project should be a joke. But I think treating "will anyone actually want to show this to a friend" as a real design constraint, from the start, changed what I built more than any individual feature did.