1st: What the hell is Kanye thinking? In this interview he compares himself to Christ! Okay maybe not but it sounds inflammatory. Now I did agree with him that “The Bush” doesn’t care about Black people but c’mon!
Sometimes I think famous people should just shut up and be famous. This is one of those times.
In a segment, I like to call “Damn! Why Isn’t That Me?”:
Ron Perelman, the owner of global cosmetics giant Revlon, is divorcing Ellen Barkin, the star of the movie Sea of Love and that terrible movie co-starring Laurence Fishburne. In a completely unrelated stream of thought, isn’t every movie with Laurence Fishburne bad? Yep, Mr. Perelman. He of the bad advertising campaigns that feature actresses instead of models is dropping his personal actress like a hot potato. But here’s the thing, he served papers on a stunned Ellen, whose prenup states she’ll get twenty million for anything up to five years but more if she hangs on longer. That marriage was like the ultimate, glam reality show; a married edition of Survivor or a real luxeBig Brother.
It’s late, or is it early? I’m experiencing mind-numbing insomnia. Since I returned from Chicago, I can’t sleep. Actually, I couldn’t sleep in Chicago. There I thought it was the time difference. Insomnia is the worst. I can’t get to sleep until 5 or 6 am, but I sleep till 1 or 2 in the afternoon once I do. It’s vampire hours. It’s 3 am, and I’m headed to bed, but I just checked my email. I got what I consider an ugly response to The Race Entry, my most responded to and read blog entry thus far. Yeah, I keep track of that. At first, I didn’t want to publish it, as it was anonymous, which I don’t like. I went as far as to not publish it under comments. I hit the reject button, but these replies get emailed to me so I had the copy. I walked away from it and came back. Here it is:
Recently, I met a guy, or should I say a guy met me. He hit me up, made the initial approach if you will. The conversation was great. He was cute, smart, and had BODY. He was sexy. Since he approached me, I thought, “Why wouldn’t he want to hang out?” Yeah, hang out means go on a date or even more. When I asked him out, he said he was “Flattered,” and thought I was “Nice,” but he did not date Black guys. What? What does that mean? You don’t date Black guys. How can you not? He said he didn’t find Black men attractive. Hold up! What are you saying, “You don’t find Black men attractive?” How is that? Are you telling me that I’m not fine? Or Gary Dourdan? Or Kanye West? Or Michael Ealy? Or Tyson Beckford?
Last week I flew to New York to appear on BET’s 106 & Park. The entire cast of Remixed! was asked to do a little PR. Since Joia and I live in L.A. we decided to fly out together. Joia arrives at five am my house to catch the Super Shuttle. Yeah, I said Super Shuttle. Fifteen bucks ain’t bad when no car service is being provided. But why was the driver blasting smooth jazz way too loud at 5:15 am? Even after I asked him to turn it down. Once at LAX, the holiday crush was in full effect. The line to get upstairs to the security line to get to the gate was over a block long. Finally, we are on the plane. Delta Song. G-H-E-T-T-O. No 1st class. No business class. They don’t have it. Two rows of seats, three seats in each row. What is that Police song, “packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes?” It was however cool that they have DISHTV. I got to watch an episode of “Remixed!” at 40,000 feet. That was cool. I had a mile-high moment with myself. Alright, not really but watching myself on TV, on a plane was very cool.
The plane lands (thank you Father), and we arrive only to discover New York is in the midst of a transit strike. Luckily BET has a car for us, the driver was cute and very good at what he does. An hour later, a fast trip through Harlem, and we are at our hotel. If you haven’t stayed at the Hudson Hotel, you should. It’s nice. The rooms are tiny. The bathrooms are chic. The artwork is by my fave artist, Francesco Clemente and the restaurant and bar scene is very good. The guy who checked us in was hot and gave me the eye.
Last night I attended the finale of America’s Next Top Model Cycle Five. I’m a reluctant fan of the show. I believe the girls that become the second runner-up are the ones that should win. I am a fan of Elyse, Kahlen, Mercedes, Shandi, and Shannon. This season was all about Bre Scullark. Bre was like the girls I grew up with in Chicago. Fabulous, a touch ghetto, pretty, and oh so real. Whenever she was on screen, I was riveted. Though I didn’t see a win in Bre’s future, she made it to the final three. Robbed. Victory snatched from her grasp. I love how she kept it real until the very end. When she lost, the heels came off, and the glasses went back on. You must never forget in your travels who you are. She did not. Tonight my mission was to meet her. I did, and she was just as I hoped she would be. Sublime.
I’ve been working non-stop for the past seven months. From How Do I Look on the Style network to House Calls at cbs.com to BET’s Remixed to On Q Live. I’ve been on a roll, and it’s been great. Remixed filmed its last episode of the season two weeks ago. The entire shoot, I was praying for the end. I just wanted it to be over. It was incredibly hard. I loved my co-hosts. I never met three such giving people, but shooting Remixed was challenging. Then you are at the end, and there’s that FEAR. The fear you may never work again. The fear that this is a fluke and you’ll be back selling shoes, which isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened. Actually, I made a lot of money selling shoes, but feet are not so glamorous no matter to whom they are connected. Luckily I went right into hosting a week of On Q Live for the Q Television Network. That just ended, and now I’m unemployed!