I shouldn't even be writing this. There's a writer's strike, and well, officially I am a writer. Yep, I've been published in hardcover and everything . . . bet you didn't know that.
Anyway, I'll keep it short and sweet, and you heard it here first.
The Writer's Guild of America strike is good for Las Vegas. For one, I'll be doing more gambling since I can't (or shouldn't) write, and my fellow locals will too, once the reruns kick in. Given the choice between bad TV and slot machines, I'll play slots -- and so will you.
So I'm guessing the big dogs in the boardrooms are not hoping for a swift resolution to Hollywood's problem.
Okay, that's it - I've got to walk my own little picket line straight for the casino.
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