Why I Don't Blog Enough

There are some (you know who you are) who have noticed that I do not post a "blog" on this "blog" nearly as often as I used to. Some of you (you know who you are, too) have also noticed that this lack of "blogging" corresponds with my rise in all things writing. Getting a Manager. Getting an Agent. Still others (you should have a good idea who you are) have put two and two together and decided that since I am on the cusp of greatness, I no longer feel obligated to "blog" with Charlie, my "blogging" partner.

You are wrong.

Some others (you have been duly notified who you are) know that I have recently moved from California to New York, and have deduced that here in New York, nobody actually "blogs" anymore, hence my lack of "blogging" is due to my new-found East Coast snobbishness.

You are also wrong.

A few of you (possibly clueless as to who you are) think I'm not blogging because I am dead. And Charlie is keeping up pretences for various reasons which we shan't go into here on this "blog."

You are more or less wrong.

The truth is... I have not "blogged" as much as I have in the past because... I am unemployed.

Back when I had a job. I did a lot of "blogging" at work. Don't tell anybody. Or rather, go ahead and tell, I don't work there anymore. Now that I no longer have my very own cubicle to "blog" from, I find it hard to remember to "blog" when I am at home, when there are so man"blogs."

So if you want me to "blog" more, someone give me a damn job!

It's nice being an up-and-coming writer in the Hollywood scene.. but until something actually sells, the homeless guy on the street corner makes more money than I do.

So now you know.

Oh, yeah. Charlie gave me his latest pages on the pygmy/incest/underwater/feng shui flick we're writing. I've re-written them and am now writing new pages. Continuing the journey.

And no word from Producer Dude. I think he died.

Cock On,

David