Usher. Just about every woman in the world wants to be his wife. And there Prunk TV was, standing next to him, as we both leaned against a wall on the rooftop of Red Steakhouse in Miami Beach.
The party had just begun. Lord Usher was wearing dark expensive sunglasses, probably because, as he stood there, an endless strobe light of camera flashes bounced against his perfectly smooth face. These were not paparazzi cameras BTW, these were the cameras of adoring fans. "Usher, can I take a picture with you?" was the constant question from party attendees of all ages and races.
"My wife loves you," said obese white men as they posed with the R&B superstar. And behold, his holiness stood humbly and smiled graciously throughout. I looked at the tattoo on Usher's hand as our shoulders touched, and then I looked over the edge of the balcony, where the gloomy neon lights of South Beach blinked, and the grey abyss of the Atlantic Ocean stared back at us.
I leaned against the aforementioned wall, absorbing the God-like-swag of Usher. I turned my head and there was producer Jim Jonsin, who told me about his new car racing endeavor called "Rebel Rock Racing," and his first car racing/hip-hop extravaganza taking place next month in West Palm Beach. (Stay tuned for that one.) The elevator door opened and out walked his divine grace, Fat Joe. Holy shit! I got on the elevator and there was Dru from the Runners.
Outside, there were some serious ballers gathered around DJ Khaled and Busta Rhymes. I said something to Busta as I held my camera in his face. He must have thought that I was with TMZ or something because he looked like he was about to punch me.
Seriously, check out the video above.
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