Angels, Vampires and Douche Bags by Carla Collins

Author:Carla Collins [COLLINS, CARLA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HUM000000
ISBN: 9781596597099
Publisher: Gildan Media Corporation
Published: 2011-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

Star war stories

“A celebrity is a person who works hard all his life to become well-known,

then wears dark sunglasses to avoid being recognized.”

—FRED ALLEN

Throughout the years, I have brushed tanned, toned shoulders with various celebrities. I have had the privilege of interviewing everyone from Sir Paul McCartney to Dame Edna. I’ve worked with Samuel L. Jackson and Joan Rivers, made the funny with Jon Stewart and Ray Romano, and I’ve seen more red carpets than Lindsay Lohan’s girlfriend.

A few years back I interviewed Aerosmith, and Steven Tyler hit on me. Now, I realize that this puts me in a club that’s about as exclusive as a Costco membership, but it’s true nonetheless. I think we formed a bond while arguing over who was the superior Stooge: Curly or Shemp. Steven was bestowing Curly’s virtues while I argued that Shemp was the seldom-heralded thinking woman’s Stooge. When the interview wrapped, he screamed, “Wait up Miss Canada!” and followed me to craft services. I think he asked for my phone number but I remember little else about the conversation. I just know that he had a boatload of charisma, and that the entire time he was chatting me up I was examining his long, thick wavy hair, his full pouty lips, and his skinny little ass. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do him or be him.

When I was an entertainment anchor for the evening news in Toronto, we would sometimes report live from various locations in the city. One night the main anchors were going to check in with me on remote at a Planet Hollywood opening. I was standing next to Steven Seagal on a small five-foot stage in the middle of the restaurant. Naturally, I was wearing a pair of my five-inch-high hooker heels. I am always in high heels. In fact, I wear heels so often that my feet have now become permanently arched like Barbie’s. Just as the camera’s red light came on indicating that we were live to air, one of my heels got caught and I began to fall backwards off the stage. Fortunately, Mr. Seagal caught me in his arms and gingerly placed me back on my feet next to him.

Finally last year, I went to the Malibu Cinemas with my brother Rick and writing partner Paul to see a movie over the Christmas holidays. After the flick finished, I retired to the ladies’ room after polishing off a large Diet Coke that was roughly the size of a toddler. Adam Sandler had also decided to spend the night at the movies, and he apparently grew impatient waiting for his wife. While I was in a stall, Adam kicked open the main door to the bathroom and screamed his wife’s name at the top of his lungs. This must have startled me because I nervously let out a little toot. Well, I was in the loo after all. Besides, I believe Adam is a fan of scatological humor.

In summary, I’ve flirted with a rock star, was saved by an action hero, and farted in front of a comedian.

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