A lot of folks think that because you do a movie WITH George Clooney, you must make Clooney-size PAYCHECKS on that movie.
Oh, reader. Dear, sweet, deluded reader…
Do you have, likeb
If that were true, I wouldn’t be slaving away at this keyboard right now typing this scintillating blog post for you, now, wood eye? If I made that kind of money I could afford to have my blogs updated by someone else! It’d probably be someone I’d pluck from a Home Depot pickup truck chorus line. Probably a Mexican dude (and ideally a GAY mexican dude, which… I don’t know if they even EXIST) but my point is…
… there’s a HUGE grey area of income between the
Clooneys of the world and the Birdsongs. Therein lies my cut.
Let’s just say if you and I go out to dinner, we’re goin’ dutch.
Still, it ain’t exactly peanuts either. And for that I am eternally grateful. But when my little sister recently uncovered a Birdsong family business that we were totally unaware of, it’s led to some confusion:
Founded in 1911, with plants in Georgia, Texas, and Virginia, I’m sure they’re shelling is exquisitely done, and their peanuts quite delicious, but I do not work for them. I suppose it’s possible we’re cousins, so I’ll definitely check that out on 23andme.com just in case there’s any sweet-ass inheritance money up for grabs later from my “peanut empire” kin folk. But, no. No, I do not work for Birdsong Peanuts®, or any OTHER peanuts.
Now, if we’re talkin’ peanut BUTTER, that’s an entirely different matter. Call my agent, and let’s talk.