Dave Hates The Jews!!

Of course I'm kidding. Dave loves the Jews.

It's the blacks he hates.

And Latinos.

And Native Americans.

And Asians. Especially the Chinese.

See... I've been MIA because of the Chinese. Since November I've been to Beijing 3 times, for a total of like... 80 days in China. Working hard launching a company in China... hiring people. Finding office space. Building a website. Translating content. Its hard work, ya'll. Seriously. And I've been there a LOT. I even have an apartment there. And, no, it isn't painted red.

And - get this - I get paid for this work. Its kind of like the OPPOSITE of my screenwriting career, and the work we do with Producer Dude.

But Dave... he doesn't understand. He calls me a traitor. A traitor to my country. My race. My screenplay. I think he's a script-bigot. He's jealous that I'm working on something else. And that the people I'm working with aren't 30-something White, protestant, upper-middle-class hybrid drivers. He sneers at me saying things like... "Is China nice?" and "Have you seen the wall yet?" and "will you ever review our screenplay?"

Don't think I can't read the racist subtext of his questions, my friends. I know what he's saying, and it isn't pretty.

So... yeah. I guess I need to move my ass. Before I go back to China next month and Dave tosses out a bunch of his yellow-baiting dogma, smearing the honorable people of China with his obnoxious Dalai Lama loving rhetoric.

(Okay. Now don't lynch me when I get back, guys. I'm not French. I love China. F*ck the Dalai Lama, Tibet, and anyone that screws with the Olympics. And Dave. Especially Dave.)

- Charlie

Charlie Doesn't Love You

It's true. He thinks you're a waste of his time. And this isn't just because he's too busy to blog, he actually told me the other day.

"Hey Dave."

"Yeah?"

"You know that one guy who reads our blog?"

"You mean me?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh, right."

"I don't love him."

Doesn't get any clearer than that.

The sad truth is, there are times that I even doubt his love for me. Like when he doesn't read my draft of the Munchkin/sock puppet/serial lesbian/voodoo script that I sent him, like, months ago. Like when he'd rather spend time doing his JOB than pay attention to our dreams of getting Siege made. (Oh, it's going to be made this year. Producer Dude says so." Like earning money to feed and house his family is more important than his dreams.

As if.

So we sit and stew. Two of the greatest screenwriting minds of the 21st Century, dragged to a stand-still due to the pressures of modern life. Charlie has to work for The Man, and I have a huge conference call with a production company in LA tonight interested in producing the TV series I've put together with My Manager and My Agent.

Priorities. Bah.