Inside the Big Orange Bus: A Quick Hello
Before you meet the creatures — and yes, they all have opinions — this part’s about me and Zach. We’re the humans keeping things semi-functional in this rolling setup. No schedule. No tidy narrative. Just two people sharing space with eight cats, two dogs, and a lot of unpredictable energy.
Some days are calm. Some days someone’s puking on something we just cleaned. And other days feel like a multi-species meltdown. Either way, we deal with it, reset, and roll on.
We stop for weird roadside stuff, troubleshoot mid-chaos, and keep the essentials sorted. Zach’s tools are exactly where they should be — labeled down to the last zip tie, untouched by creature nonsense (or else). I handle the fur politics, try to keep the peace, and occasionally remember where I put my coffee.
Nothing gets stashed last-minute. Every plant, appliance, and in-between object has its spot — ready to roll, no shuffling required. We don’t do dishes bouncing in the sink or gear sliding across the floor. If it travels with us, it has a home. Full-time. No exceptions.
There’s no master plan, no aesthetic blueprint. Just two humans making it all work — one day, one detour, one fur-covered moment at a time.
Nancy & Zach
Still standing. Still rolling. Still wondering how this setup even works — but it does.
Nancy, rendered in socks. That should explain a lot.
Nancy is the kind of person who makes chaos feel curated. Stocking cap on her head, wild socks on her feet, and a vibe that says “snack first, nonsense never.” She moves through life with a mix of side-eye humor and genuine curiosity — especially when it involves roadside oddities, pickle-themed attractions, or unexplained lawn sculptures.
She has a soft spot for Weird America — the kind of offbeat places you only find by ignoring Google reviews and following a vaguely promising billboard. Whether it’s a giant ball of twine or a diner shaped like a cow, Nancy’s likely made a detour, rated the snack quality, and mentally bookmarked the mug selection.
Food isn’t just fuel — it’s storytelling. She gravitates toward local flavor, quirky menus, and snacks with personality. If it’s got regional flair, historical confusion, or an unexpected crunch, it’s probably already in her notes.
Underneath the humor is intention. Nancy doesn’t chase chaos — she designs around it. Her sense of detail isn’t performative; it’s intuitive. She’s got a way of pairing mismatched things that somehow feel like they belonged together all along — including animals, destinations, and travel plans held together with tape and charm.
She doesn’t ask to be the loudest in the room. She just asks for decency, snacks that don’t disappoint, and a house warm enough for creatures with opinions. And she usually gets it — because beneath the cap and socks is someone who’s built a life full of meaning that doesn’t need explanation.
Zach runs on precision and principle — the kind that can’t be taught, only tuned. His tools don’t just fix things; they restore order. Somewhere between socket sets and spare fuses is a mind that catalogs chaos like it’s a parts drawer.
He rides both a pedal unicycle and an EUC daily, preferring trails over roads and taking most corners with the kind of gusto that guarantees scrapes. Zach is also the main dog wrangler, and rarely alone — joined by two dogs and a constellation of cats, with Phil (the OG sidekick) close by, meeping critiques from the sidelines while Zach perfects his unicycle dismounts.
He welds with reverence, drawn to metal sculptures not just for shape but for the story in the seams. His favorite color is orange — which explains the bus, the gear, and the quiet blaze in his aesthetic choices.
He taught Nancy to loom knit, and when she chased down new stitches out of sheer curiosity, Zach followed suit — exploring the craft in his own way, eventually making plushies that are entirely his own domain.
Zach is gloriously unfiltered — his greetings land like small sonic booms in the library. But make no mistake: the bus runs smoother with him at the helm. Calibrated for chaos, animated by motion, and just barely tamed by Phil’s supervision.
We’re Building Something Here. And We’re Looking for Partners Who Fit.
We don’t just tell stories. We build connections. Our audience sticks around for sock logic, unicycle wipeouts, and pets with backstories — but they also notice the tools, the gear, and the quirks that make daily life work better.
If a product fits into our world, it doesn’t just show up in a post. It becomes part of the journey. We’re organized, curious, and genuinely collaborative — the kind of creators who track what works, ask thoughtful questions, and show up with structure behind the whimsy.
Whether it’s travel essentials, pet-forward gear, trail-tested tools, or kitchen goods that fuel creativity, we want partnerships that actually make sense. Around here, food isn’t just fuel — it’s how we connect, create, and bake meaning into the everyday.
Think your product belongs in this storyline? Reach out. Phil — our chronically unimpressed ragdoll cat — screens all inquiries with his signature side-eye, vocal meeps, and impeccable judgment. If he gives the green light, we probably will too.
Phil’s impeccable judgment isn’t just reserved for screening inquiries — he’s currently side-eyeing a few upgrades for his personal grooming lounge. Top contenders include a cat scratcher worthy of his dramatic flair and a fancy brush that matches his boujie standards. No collabs, no pitches — just pure Phil-approved window shopping.