In 11th grade my drama teacher said to me that I needed Fuck-you-money. What!? Mrs. Penn said that? Mrs. Penn was the teacher who kicked us off stage for “toilet humor”. She passed away a few years ago but left a great impact. We’d hear, “Oh Waleeeeeed, that is gross. That is disgusting. That’s toilet humor. Get off the stage now!”. She was very animated and I was very much a shit-head kid with a lot of hair and ego.
We had fun with her, thinking it was clever, thinking WE were clever. We had the worst skits. It was always something about violence, sex, sex and violence, or violent sex. Sometimes it was about sexy violence. I don’t know, we were idiots.
Anyways, one day Mrs. Penn pulls me aside. I forget if it was between class or during class. She told me that it was obvious I wanted to pursue Hollywood and that I should be careful. She said that I needed FUCK-YOU-MONEY. What did that mean?
Fuck you, money?
Fuck YOU, money!
Fuck! You money!
Fuck you and money!?
All i know is that she cared enough to say that to me, hoping it would sink past my ego and big hair (again, see the picture). She knew I was naive. I believed what people told me, because I did what I told people I would do. I followed my words and as much as I acted like a little shit, she knew I was naive and humble in other ways. So she gave me one of the best bits of advice ever and it finally hit me year and years later. I don’t recall the exact moment but one day I understood the meaning.
One day, I could look at someone and say “Fuck you, I have my own money”. THAT WAS FUCK-YOU-MONEY! I finally understood that powerful little sentence. I tried one round of Hollywood in early college. I believed people’s lies and promises. I fell into a few traps and I went back to school, finished my studies, and decided to try again a few years later.
This time I came in prepped to take care of myself. I was a notary public. I was a personal fitness trainer. I had my massage therapy license. I was going to make money for myself, make my own hours and my own rules. I was making my fuck-you-money and it helped me turn down quite a few jobs. It let me look at people right in the eye and say, NO THANKS to their jobs. It let me stand up for myself when a stylist on set tried to berate me in front of her assistant, instead she looked like an idiot in front of her assistant. I didn’t care. I had a way to make money besides that crappy PA job. It let me say no, when a certain high-profile woman asked me to clean up her dog shit. Wait, she demanded I clean up her dog shit. I looked at her and said, I will not do that and you can fire me but please put on the termination paper that I refused to clean up your dog shit. It let me take a crazy ex-boss and tell him exactly how I felt about him, very loudly and effectively.
I don’t endorse fighting on set or with co-workers. I do think talking about it is best, but there are moments when you look at them and just want to say FUCK YOU and FUCK YOUR JOB. If you ever have the chance to say it, say it. It feels so good. If you can work it out, work it out, talk it out, and have a great experience. But there will be moments where that’s not possible and you should always have your FUCK-YOU-MONEY. You will learn when it’s just high stress and when they really don’t care about you as a human being. They get the F-U! Again please try to work out any situation, always try to put yourself in their Gucci shoes and understand what is making them upset. Maybe they are getting yelled at. Maybe they are having a personal emergency. Maybe they know you messed up and expected greatness out of you. For all those and other logical reasons, try to work it out. But for those rare moments that you realize they are just an egomaniac prick, let them have it. What’s your skill and how will you make sure you have your FUCK-YOU-MONEY?
I PROMISE TO LAY OFF THE BAD WORDS FOR A FEW BLOGS. This one had a lot of F words, but it was to make a point. After this, it’s all G-rated talk from me.