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.