My name is Billi. I’m a cat. I live with my mother, a woman who cries in fonts and thinks trauma can be monetized if you stitch it on a hoodie. I had a good thing going: free rent, occasional head scritches, emotionally distant cohabitation. Then she hit burnout. Again. And suddenly I have a job.

Zero Filter Threads was born during what I can only describe as an existential arts-and-crafts episode. Mom needed to feel something. I needed snacks. We compromised. She made a store. I let her pretend I’m the mascot.

Now I’m the CEO of an emotionally damaged merch line. Not because I care. But because my mother says “pet rent is real,” and apparently exposure doesn’t cover bills.

Let me be clear: I don’t design the shirts. I don’t fulfill the orders. I don’t even pretend to engage. I simply approve things by sitting on them. And yes — I do judge every single product.

If you’re here, you’re probably tired. Burned out. Possibly ghosted. Maybe crying into your tote bag. You’re in the right place. Our products won’t heal you, but they will validate your worst mood in excellent typography.

I’ll be here occasionally — blogging under duress, reviewing merch I didn’t approve, and doing the bare minimum to stay employed.

If you buy something, thanks. My snack fund appreciates it.

If you don’t, that’s fine. I’m emotionally unavailable anyway.

Yours in reluctant capitalism,
Billi