By Smitta Smitten
Middle of the week n word from Ogilvy n Mather’s luvlee n efficient PR-ladie Sue was; “Smitta, get cha tuishie Carni.”
“Wattever for?”
“Niko na Safaricom Live,” she sed.
“Pia mie niko na Safcom.”
Anyway, thaz how me n the Sharonova found ourselves rollin’ up on LA highway, me lady worried dat the lil orange skirt she’d worn wit her green topski could be mis-seen as anti-Saf.
“No sweat, swity,” I sed and added, “Kerubo will juzz make ya take it off at the entrance; n give ya a green grass skirt. (Imma too-ooo funnie).
Inside Carni, I salimiad Endomol’s Neilantel K (wit whom we layter roll ter Malindi) n OJ Oballah, the blogger, sat nexta me.
“ Wit Itumbi n dat bugger of a blogger Alai in sewer shizzle up to his kneeskis, ya next,” I teased OJ (4 the record, I feel nada for socio-media gutter who to call em ‘sewer rats’ wud be an insult to every self-disrespectin sewer rat in Korogosh).
And then there is Redsan, who waz there wit his loyal man Friday (bouncer Sammy) n we had a most pleasant chit-chat, n he spoke of doin a Spotlight for Pulse.
The other big ole celeb, Nameless, was under the canvass; n as always twas a super pleasure to see Ka-Monski.
Wahu too, who ever since she came to me Princess Adhis book launch in June (along wit cool peeps like Eric Wanjoh’e) will always have a soft-soft spot in me heart, rent-free.
Anutha ole favourite, Patricia Mbatia-Macha, whom I like lots n admire wit all me heart, just added to the razz-ma-dazzle of the occasion.
