I live in Melbourne, Australia.
Money. Money. Not for fun. For money.
Please do not ask me to do things for no money. Not writing. Not speaking. Not media interviews, either. I know you mass electronic media outlets don’t pay people but whatevs. Unless you have money for me, I will not provide free content to your television or radio program. I don’t really like doing interviews. Unless I have a book to flog, I would much rather stay home. I would rather garden than go to your television or radio studio where your host will probably be rude to me.
Pay me money.
Bitch, please. I am
in my forties FIFTY. I am not “grateful for the exposure”. I am grateful for being left the fuck alone.
Do not ask me to work for no money or shit money.
Especially do not ask me to do things for no money or shit momey AND COVER MY OWN TRAVEL EXPENSES. A plane ticket to Sydney is NOT remuneration. I have been on a fucking plane before. Going to Sydney is not exciting for me but a pain in my arse. I would much rather stay home and garden than go to the rotten airport. AND FLY TO A GIG YOU EXPECT ME TO DO FOR NO MONEY.
I don’t drive so there had better be a cab, or “rideshare” if you must.
Unless your organisation is one of resistance and not in the business of maintaining the status quo DO NOT ASK ME TO WORK FOR NO MONEY. The answer will be “no” followed by the question “Why don’t you value human labour?”
Also. Just because you are a “women’s organisation” I will not provide a free address. Better be some pretty special bitches.
Email me at helenATbadhostessDOTcom and try not to be a shit.
Subscribe to my newsletter to observe me being a shit.