Websites
A proper one-page site that loads fast and looks right on a phone.
from $299
Websites, menus, Google listings, online booking. Fixed properly, priced up front, done in days. You never touch a computer.
Flat prices, published, before you have to talk to me. If a job is bigger than what's on this list I'll tell you the number before I start it — not after.
One person, plain English, no jargon. Pick the thing that's been bugging you longest.
A proper one-page site that loads fast and looks right on a phone.
Your PDF or photo menu becomes a tappable page, plus QR cards for the tables.
Right hours, right phone, real photos, so nobody turns up to a locked door.
People book themselves in at 11pm instead of ringing you mid-service.
Every review replied to properly — including the bad ones, especially those.
you@yourshop.com instead of a Gmail from 2009. Lands on your phone as normal.
You've got a site, it's just old. Same address, brought up to date.
Hours, seasonal changes, small edits — you text me, it's done.
These aren't for everyone — but if one of them is you, it's the most useful thing on this page.
Opening a business is enough work without also building a website, claiming a Google listing and figuring out review cards in the same fortnight. So I do the lot in one go, in your first weeks, while it still matters.
The quick-start kit goes with it: all the front-office writing you're about to need — quote replies, enquiry responses, booking confirmations, review requests, social captions — written in your voice and handed over ready to use. No software, no subscription, nothing to learn.
Every week, a list of the businesses that have just been licensed in Calgary — name, address, what they do, and how to reach them. Sign shops, insurers, POS dealers, cleaners, printers: everyone who sells to new businesses is chasing the same customers, and most find out too late.
It's checked by hand before it goes out. Renewals, relocations and existing companies opening a second site are taken out, so what lands in your inbox on Monday is genuinely new.
Don't want to make the calls? I'll ring them for you and you only pay when a meeting is actually in your diary.
Three steps. You're involved in one of them.
Ten minutes on the phone. You tell me what the business does and what's annoying you. No meeting, no slides.
I go away and do it. Most jobs are ready to look at within a few days — menus usually same day.
You see it before it goes live and before you pay. Not right? I fix it. Then it's yours.
Have a look on your phone — that's where your customers will see it.
A neighbourhood pub on Blarney Street in Cork, open since 1987, with no website at all. Built with their own colours, their own sign, their real hours and a tap-to-call button for bookings.
See it liveThe four things people are too polite to ask.
You see it before you pay a penny, and I'll change it until it's right. If you still don't want it, you don't pay. That's the whole risk to you.
No. There's no contract and no lock-in. Monthly care plans can be cancelled any month by sending me a text saying stop.
You do — the website, the domain, the Google listing, all of it, in your name. If you ever want someone else to take over, everything hands over cleanly. I don't hold anything hostage.
Only if you want one. Every job on the price list is a one-off. The care plan exists because some people would rather text me than log into anything, ever.
I'm Jason. I'm from Cork, I live in Calgary, and I do the jobs on your list that start with “I really should sort the website out.”
Most businesses I meet are run properly — good food, good work, loyal regulars — and then let down by something small and fixable online. A menu that's a blurry PDF nobody can read on a phone. Opening hours on Google wrong since 2019. A booking page that's said “coming soon” for a decade. A website that's just gone, and nobody noticed.
None of that means you're bad at your job. It means you've been busy doing your actual job.
So: flat prices, plain English, and I do the work. You don't install anything, you don't learn anything, you don't sit through a strategy session. If it's not right, I fix it. That's the whole arrangement.
“Grand job” — what an Irish tradesman says when the work's finished right.
Ring, text, or email — whichever you'd actually do. The audit's free and there's no pitch attached to it.