Nothing like getting your picture taken with a rapist…
So, I volunteered at the 25th Anniversary Celebration of
BET (Black Entertainment Television for you West Milford-ites who don’t know about that sort of thang). My role was to serve as a Celebrity Escort. So that means, “the talent” (as they are referred to) show up in their stretch Hummers, and I need to introduce myself, walk them down the red carpet and chat with them/keep them company on the carpet when the line gets backed up.
Well, it happens to be that this was the longest red carpet I’ve seen in my tenure here in LA LA Land. Media outlets came out in full force to see the likes of
L.L. Cool J (and yes, he DOES lick his lips all the time),
Usher (he looked better in person than I thought he would),
Puff Daddy (or whatever he is calling himself these days),
M.C. Hammer (he wore a purple animal carcass), and
Nelly (with a bodyguard the size of a small island).
So, who did I escort you ask? None other than
George Clinton and the P-Funk,
Serena Williams, and
Kwame Jackson from the Apprentice!
My humble opinion:George Clinton still looks homeless but him and his entourage stole the show (which usually happens when you role 20 deep with large afros, wild funkadelic colors, and hair that appears as if Jem stuck one of her infamous pink hair strips in a cotton ball made of coal (nice visual).
Next we come to Kwame Jackson. Poor, poor Kwame, The Donald gave him the shaft. Contrary to popular belief, I thought Kwame was rather obnoxious. His girlfriend, Jessica (they have been dating for about a year and a half) was very sweet as we talked about life, love and the pursuit of happiness. Kwame, on the other hand, must have thought he was still hanging with the Trumpster, as he tried to micro-manage me. He insisted that I talk to all the media outlets to find out if they wanted to speak to him (will someone please let Kwame know that this is the job of his PUBLICIST, not Alpha The Great). He also couldn’t wait to tell me about his new website and company (link to come). It’s actually quite funny that Omorosa (who the press were less than interested in speaking with) actually appeared a lot nicer than Kwame, AND I thought she looked great (she was feeling a little self conscious and asked if she looked ok, huh… go figure).
Last but not least, the red carpet was closing (phew, my feet were killing me at this point) and BET staff needed a strong escort to take on the likes of Serena Williams and keep her in step. (SEE ALSO: I looked like a munchkin standing next to her. CARBON COPY: Mohammad Ali’s daughter, who also attended, eats girls like me for lunch). The press went crazy for Serena, but alas, she was late, and her limo driver nearly kill her as she tried to exit and it lurched forward (do I smell a lawsuit?), so little old Alpha The Great had to shield Ms. Williams from those wacko media personnel who just wouldn’t take “no interview” for an answer.
I could bore you with all the CRAZY details of the evening, but let me give you the highlights of the backstage happenings (as I stood in the holding area where all talent had to be before they did their press junkets:
I MELTED: Snoop Dogg told me he liked my hair and that I was beautiful (I was actually quite honored considering he was encapsulated by his 10 man entourage), he’s got quite a presence.
MIKE TYSON ALMOST BIT MY HAND OFF: Well actually, he grabbed my hand to tell me that I looked good (and like 100 other woman that night). Mike does have a very distinctive “scary man” vibe about him (and it’s not just that monstrosity of a tattoo he has protruding from his ocular region). So no nibbling on my ear, but I as you can see from the picture taken at the after party, we’re close (um yuck).
Sorry about the picture quality (um, yeah Kelli, who’s the liar now!!!)… not my camera. I actually forgot my camera at home (methinks on purpose) and this picture was taken by another volunteer.
ATG GIVES YOU THE SCOOP:So to sum things up for your… it was a great time. I’ll do a bit more name dropping and post some links so you can see what I saw… (no really, don’t hold your breath).
Another day, another LA…
