50 grams

despite the fact that i'm glued to my computer 12+ hours a day, i just can't seem to find the time (or the energy...or the desire) to blog. 

wa wa wa, you've all heard that before, i know. my apologies.  but 2008 has come roaring out of the gate in terms of employment.  and considering half the town is still out of work with the writers' strike, i gotta be grateful and gobble it all up like a hungry british orphan while i can.  right?

my next project -- the Grammy Awards.  this is the big one.  #50.  Fifty years of Grammy.  a few more years and she'll officially be a senior  citizen.   (thankfully, i'm not writing the jokes this year...actually, maybe i AM.  we don't have a writer.)  that is, of course, if the show even happens.  those pesky writers are threatening to shut us down.  lay off! -- i say.  this show's gonna pay my billz for a couple months.  besides, it's a show by musicians for musicians.  the amount of actual writing involved is very minimal at max.  and what is written could be done so by a chimp.   enter, matt white, stage left. 

NOT. 

i may be many things, but i ain't no traitor.  i plan on getting in the guild one day and hope to benefit from the sweet, sweet deal these writers are gonna get now that the pissin' contest they're in with the studios seems to be losing stream.  but who knows.  if this business is anything it's unpredictable.  this mess could get messier.  and if the Grammy's gets the ax like the Golden Globes did...the shit just might hit the fan.

and i'll have a front row seat to smell it.

til next time...