A gentleman with interesting hair and a confused expression wandered into my office and asked for directions to a conference room. I offered to walk him there, as I needed to stretch anyway. As I waddled and he huffed down the corridor, I kept thinking, “this guy’s a rock star. I know he’s a rock star. Who is he? Why can’t I remember his name?”
Yeah. It was George Clinton.
A couple of secretaries and I hovered near the elevator for a while with a camera, hoping we’d catch him before he left, but we found out he’s in an all-day thing and may well be here late. Rats. I wanted to take a photo with his hand on my big, pregnant belly.
Now my babies may never be funktified.
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Red Diabla said,
November 9, 2007 @ 6:08 pm
I disagree.
Merely being in his presence funktifies you, the kids, and the entire office for a lifetime. Funktastic!
Catherine said,
November 9, 2007 @ 11:20 pm
I concur with Red Diabla. You and your babies are not only funktified, you are also atomic.
miss kendra said,
November 10, 2007 @ 8:17 pm
i almost met him once when i saw them in boston… and after all i could think was…did he smell? that hair looks like it would stink.
Jenny said,
November 12, 2007 @ 6:18 am
Funkadelic!
uccellina said,
November 12, 2007 @ 2:08 pm
Kendra – it’s not hard to wash dreads . . .
Celebrity babies blog « A Bird’s Nest said,
July 29, 2008 @ 2:02 pm
[…] to the movie theater at the same time I did, and we saw Seal and Heidi Klum as we were leaving. George Clinton pops into my office, and Debi Mazar buys her baby clothes at the same cheap store I […]