After all, this weekend Vegas plays host to the BlogWorld Expo. If there's one thing bloggers are completely incapable of, it's keeping their mouths shut. Well, their mouths aren't the problem (unless of course their podcasting or vlogging, of course), it's those fingers, because first they'll twitter, then they'll post, and the diggs will follow. So gentlemen, try to remain as such at those gentlemen's clubs, and ladies, keep count of those cosmopolitans.
I was wavering about attending this conference or not, since I'd abandoned blogging and writing for awhile, because of many of life's constant distractions and sometimes derailments, but since I've got a few ideas up my sleeve, and am working with a new magazine on their blog. So here I am in Vegas.
Hell, maybe I'll even find some content while I'm here. Actually I found some already.
Tyra Banks was on my plane. Just saying her name in my head conjures up those old Nike commercials with Lil' Penny, which is kind of interesting since I once shared an elevator with Chris Rock.
I had to stare like an idiot while whatever facial recognition that came installed with my cerebrum confirmed it was indeed Ms. Banks. So like any smooth character would, I saunter through first class on the way to my seat in row 79 which is just a seatbelt strapped onto the rudder, in case you were wondering. But yeah, I lean over and casually say, “Hi Beyonce, I love your music,” and continue my stroll to my seat in untouchable class.
Nah, I didn't do that. I didn't think of that until I was hanging onto that rudder for my dear life. I had no reason to mess with her. But pretending to mistake one celebrity for another when approaching them seems like it could be a fun thing. I'm trying to think if I ever did this before, but probably not since my obliviousness would normally kick in.
Tyra looks great in person, by the way, the television does not deceive. One of my rowmates in solitary class, also noted the presence of Ms. Banks, so I consider this celebrity sighting confirmed, and blogworthy. Most of the time I'm oblivious to this sort of thing, until another member of my party tells me afterwards. Actually I was too drunk to realize that Chris Rock was on the elevator with me.
You think Tyra is here for BlogWorld?