I've spent twenty years building things on the internet. The last few, I've been creating an AI setup that runs my own life — dozens of little tools it built for me, one chore at a time. And I finally made a version anyone can own.
It's the best thing I've ever made. I'd love to walk you through it.
First of all
Every software company wants to own your systems. I just want you to own the simple tool that's perfect for you: describe the job out loud, and what you get is yours to keep — plain files, on your own computer.
Tell it the shape of your problem — out loud, in your own words — and it builds the little machine that handles it: a tracker, a planner, one simple place for everything about the stuff you run. Anything you can think of.
Every machine it builds is yours forever: it lives in a folder on your own computer, and you can change it by voice any time — "make it work like this instead" is all you have to say to mold it into exactly what you need.
See for yourself
Everything here is real and clickable. Start anywhere.
Two versions of a contract went in; 57 material changes came out, each quoted word-for-word and flagged for my side — graded against a hundred-change answer key, and it caught the trap designed to fool professional comparison software. Two hours, start to finish. I own the machine forever.
Read the case study →
A clickable walk through my real board — every tool I actually run. My bookshelf and game library are genuinely mine; the rest opens with sample data. Yours will look like this, with your stuff in it.
Open the front door →
A real evening, receipts and all: everything I said, the machine that existed two hours later, and every page it built. Clickable, start to finish.
Read the whole session →The full illustrated tour: the things you could never do before, the quiet superpowers, and what it refuses to do on purpose.
See every feature →What's on the shelves today: tools that ship installed, parts you pull by asking, and machines built by talking. The store restocks.
Browse the shelves →One agent, one conversation
Forge builds beautiful dashboards . . . that you'll never have to open. Because you never have to look at a screen to get anything done. One agent runs your whole Forge, and you just talk to it right here on the home page about anything at all.
Ask it something no dashboard could answer: "Out of everyone I've met in the last two months here in Milwaukee, which ones could most likely introduce me to the CTO of Harley-Davidson, and why?" It reads across every machine in your life and just tells you. You never go digging through a CRM screen to find it.
Ask it to build something new, or change something you already have ("add a column for follow-up dates"), and it does. Questions, new machines, edits on the fly: it's all one conversation, in one place.
One agent. One conversation. Your whole Forge.
Subscription and billing
All the AI metering and payment stuff in nine little pictures: the free car, the tank, the gauge, and why there's never a surprise bill.
How the money works →Using Forge for work?
A growing set of the machines on the shelves comes in two versions: the personal one, and a Professional version — the commercial-grade build of the same machine. The money dashboard that reads like it belongs to a CFO instead of a household. The organizer that runs a client roster instead of a family calendar. Same machine underneath; built for work.
That shelf is called Heavy Machinery, and it comes with the Professional membership.
The professional tools you're renting right now — the bookkeeping app, the scheduler, the CRM, the project tracker — are each more powerful than my machines. But a small business pays $300–500 a month for that stack, mostly for basic functions you barely go beyond. The basics are already here in Forge. Owned, on your own computer, customizable by talking . . . and when the machine you need doesn't exist, you just build it.
And the jobs none of those tools ever quite covered — the numbers you still enter by hand every month, the spreadsheet that's quietly turned into a mess — those are exactly the jobs Forge builds machines for.
This is the lane built for a single person running a small business or a side hustle.
The professional deal
Look before you buy anything: every professional tool has a full clickable preview in the catalog. And it's a membership, not a cage — drop back to the regular seat any time. Your Professional machines park, every file and page they made stays yours forever, and it all wakes back up if you return.
Teams, companies & nonprofits
Here's the part no big software company can sell you: a person at your table. When a business buys Forge, I come spend half a day with you. I sit with your people and learn the shape of the jobs — the messy spreadsheet somebody updates by hand every week, the report that eats a morning every month, the stuff everyone just carries in their head — and I leave your first machines built and running. Machines in the shape of your job, not in the shape of somebody's product.
Individuals take what's on the shelves and build the rest by talking. A business gets me: I build your first ones with you. After that half-day, your own agent takes over — changing a machine is a sentence, and building the next one is a conversation. And if you ever want me back at the table, that's $500 an hour. Most businesses won't need it.
The rest of the deal is simple: one flat door for the whole company — three people or three thousand, same price, no per-head math on the way in. Everyone's tank pools, so one person's heavy month borrows from another's light one.
The business deal
Grab a short meeting with me and we'll make sure it's the right fit for you.
And if you're here for the business side beyond Forge: I also provide AI Enablement & Integration services for orgs.
Churches, food pantries, scout troops, little leagues: giving things away to good people is roughly half of my whole story, and the volunteer running the spreadsheet at 11pm is exactly who I built this for. So it's the same deal as the businesses get — same software, same seats — but the door is 90% off:
The nonprofit deal
Say hi and we'll get your org set up.
Is it worth it?
A company pays at the door to bring this into their whole shop — and then their people pay the same a month for a seat that you do.
So here's the only test that matters, and it scales with what you're using it for. If you're running your own life, Forge should be saving (or making) you $100 of something every month — time, money, or just not lying awake trying to hold it all in your head.
If you're running a small business or a side hustle, the bar is higher because the stakes are: it should be putting an extra $500 a month in your pocket — earned, saved, or a combination of the two. Either way, if it isn't clearing your number, cancel it. Everything you built stays yours.
I want everyone who uses this to absolutely love it. And if you don't, we part as friends. :)
Are you ready?
I built this to be safe. Forge lives in its own little world and has to ask you first, with a pop-up card that states exactly what it wants to do, before it deletes anything, touches a file outside its world, or goes out to the web. You approve those by hand, so you always see exactly what it's reaching for.
And I couldn't read your stuff if I wanted to — nothing you do in Forge passes through me.
But it's a framework, not a foolproof box. If you decide to be dumb about it — pasting random junk off the web and rubber-stamping every card without reading it — you can still get yourself in trouble. That half-of-one-percent is on you. So, a quick check:
None of these stop you from downloading; they just make you think. If you wanted to check a box but couldn't, go take care of that first. If you're good: have fun. When you buy a seat you'll get the real terms, including a line that says you read this checklist.
P.S. — Now that I've put the fear of god into you, I can say that I've been running this system full-time, non-stop for months, and I've never once come close to it stepping outside its bounds into something dangerous.
Before you download
Forge is brand new
I'm not a company. There's no support team, no ticket queue, no chat bubble with someone on the other end of it. There's me. I built this, I run it, and I work on it every single day of my life.
Forge is also brand new — it was born on July 10, 2026. It works. I run my whole life and my whole business on it, and I wouldn't sell you something I don't trust. But it is not perfect, and it will not be perfect. Things will be rough in spots. Things will break. Things will change fast, usually into something better, because I ship fixes constantly. You'll open it one morning and something will be nicer than it was the night before. That's the trade you're making.
So there's no white-glove anything here. There's a bug box. You flag what broke and how bad it was, it lands in my inbox, and I read every single one. I won't reply to them all. I'll fix what I can, worst first.
🐞 Open the bug box
It's also built into Forge
itself (the ⚙ menu) — this one's here for the day the app won't even open.
And there's no refund policy, because there's nothing here that needs one: the software is free, and a seat is month to month. A month you've paid for is paid for — that's the whole exposure. The honest version of a guarantee is this: cancel any month you want, and everything you built stays yours forever — plain files, on your own computer.
If you can't check one of these, don't download it — seriously, no hard feelings, and I'd rather you didn't. If you can check all of them, you already understand the deal better than most people ever will.
Or just watch me say it.
85 seconds, one take, at my table.
Recorded July 2026.
Forge isn't perfect.
Neither am I.
But we work hard.
I don't want it. I'm one person, not a company: there's no ad business here to feed, no server holding your work, nothing to sell to a third party. I don't see your files. I don't see your chats. I don't see what you build. Your credit card never touches me — Stripe handles that end. The only thing I've got is what you handed me at checkout: your name and your email.
Privacy page →Get Forge
The software is the same free download either way — the seat is your agent, the gas, the pre-built tools inside, and every update. The only choice is how hard you'll run it.
Fair warning: these are early prices, and they'll rise as Forge grows.
All prices are in US dollars. Cards from outside the US work fine — your bank does the conversion.
The particulars
The download is the whole software — free, no code needed to look around. Already have a seat? Same download: enter your activation code and your agent wakes up, right where everything is. Reinstalling over a copy you already have? It goes right over the top — your code and everything you've built stay put.
When you first run it: Windows may show a blue “Windows protected your PC” box — that's Windows being cautious with a publisher it hasn't seen many times yet, not a problem with your download. Click More info, then Run anyway. The publisher line should say CHANGE THE WORLD, LLC — that's me.
On a Mac? Forge is Windows today, Mac next. Get on the Mac waitlist and you'll hear from me the day it's ready.
Your data: everything you build stays on your own computer as plain files. I don't see any of it, and I couldn't if I wanted to. There's no account holding your work, no copy of it on a server of mine, nothing to breach. That's not a policy I'm promising to keep, it's just how the thing is built, because I don't want your data. If you want the specifics on how it's handled and who sees what, the privacy page has all of it.
Want the full technical story? The trust page walks through exactly where your data goes, what leaves your computer, and who can see what — written for the skeptical friend, or for your IT person.
The software is free. A seat is /mo or /mo plus tax, with the AI included. Cancel and everything you built stays yours — plain files on your own computer, readable forever. Your agent just sleeps until you come back; any month you return, you're instantly current. The full story: how the money works.
I don't advertise this. I'd just love to get it to people it's actually good for — so if that's someone you know, please send it to them. That's the whole marketing department.