I am such an ass.

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.



6 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Red Diabla said,

    I disagree.

    Merely being in his presence funktifies you, the kids, and the entire office for a lifetime. Funktastic!

  2. 2

    Catherine said,

    I concur with Red Diabla. You and your babies are not only funktified, you are also atomic.

  3. 3

    miss kendra said,

    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.

  4. 5

    uccellina said,

    Kendra – it’s not hard to wash dreads . . .

  5. 6

    […] 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 […]

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