Read Tough Sh*t: Life Advice From a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good Online
Authors: Kevin Smith
Tags: #Humor, #Form, #Essays, #Biography & Autobiography, #Personal Memoirs
Tough Sh*t: Life Advice From a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good
Tough Sh*t
K E V I N S M I T H
G O T H A M B O O K S
GOTHAM BOOKS
Published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Published by Gotham Books, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First printing, March 2012
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Copyright © 2012 by Kevin Smith
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Gotham Books and the skyscraper logo
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Smith, Kevin, 1970-
Tough sh*t : life advice from a fat, lazy slob who did good / Kevin Smith.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-101-55424-1
1. Smith, Kevin, 1970- 2. Motion picture producers and directors—
United States—Biography. 3. Screenwriters—United States—
Biography. I. Title. II. Title: Tough shit.
PN1998.3.S5864A3 2012
791.4302′33092—dc23
[B] 2011047663
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Penguin is committed to publishing works of quality and integrity.
In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers;
however, the story, the experiences, and the words
are the author’s alone.
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
Like its author, this book is dedicated to Jen Schwalbach—the gorgeous mother of my child, the seductive temptress who keeps me faithful, and the friend I’ve always had the most fun with. My best friend, even.
Also quite like its author, this book is additionally dedicated to Jen Schwalbach’s asshole.
Everything above also applies here, obviously, except the “mother of my child” part: Referencing my kid and my wife’s brown-eye in the same sentiment might come off as
crude
or something.
(And have a heart: Please don’t go telling my kid you read in her old man’s book that she’s some kinda Butt-Baby. She’s gonna have a hard enough time as it is being Silent Bob’s kid—the daughter of the “Too Fat to Fly” guy.
Also: Please don’t tell my daughter I dedicated the book to her mother’s sphincter. That’d be weird.)
CONTENTSPig Newtons and How All This Shit Happened
Whatchoo Talkin’ ’bout, Willis? And Other Shit It
Took Me Twenty Years to Figure OutWeed, Gretzky, and Getting My Shit Together
When the Shit Hit the Fan:
Red State
, Part IThe Glowing Shit That Was in the Briefcase:
Red State
, Part III
Let’s Get This Shit Started!
I
am a product of Don Smith’s balls.
That’s important to establish and acknowledge right off the bat, not only because it makes what I’ve accomplished in life seem even cooler, but also because Dad’s balls have been, to my way of thinking, too rarely celebrated. Unless you count whatever attention Mom threw their way, I don’t feel they’ve gotten their proper due for their part in what became of me. And she’s certainly never hailed his nuts in print, so this right here is a real coup for the Smiths of 21 Jackson Street, Highlands, New Jersey. Though if you could ask my father, he’d likely admit that while having his balls in print is flattering, having his balls in my mother’s mouth was way better.
People need to be regularly reminded that they began as cum. Not to diminish or cut ’em down to size—quite the contrary: I tell people they were cum once as a gesture of
my awe at their very existence and to pat ’em on the back. There are no losers in life because every one of us who is born is a
huge
fucking winner.
Chew on this: When I was in film school, there was this specious statistic floating around stating there were more film school students than law school students. That was one massive pool of wannabes who’d have to bottleneck into a souvenir teacup full of opportunities waiting on the other end of the rainbow. Breaking into the movie business? Don’t worry, Cap’n Solo; even C-3PO can’t calculate those odds. Might as well try to navigate an asteroid field.