Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth, formerly the Queen of Mean on “The Apprentice,” just finished up her Donald Trump produced “The Ultimate Merger” (on TV One), where she was courted by 12 male suitors over several weeks.
Now we all know that Omarosa is the epitome of one being self-important, never passing up an opportunity to tell anyone who would listen that she once worked in the White House. But during some of the shows I watched, this upscale hoochie repeatedly acted like a lady one moment, and a Wild Banshee in heat the next, as if she was puttin’ it down at “The Players Club”: “Don’t stop! Git it, git it! Drop dat booty – know you wit’ it!”
I enjoyed the show for its entertainment value, and I do think Omarosa is a sexy, attractive piece of chocolate, but ‘s obvious covers up her inadequacies with a superiority complex.
Omarosa ultimately whittled her list of potential suitors down to only one man, the winner, Ray Lavendar, the singing, married bad boy. Yes, Ms. Looking for Love sent all the other single men packing and cried in the hallway over Lavendar like a 16-year-old school girl, desiring the man she knew she could never have.
Her behavior is the same as a lot of successful and unsuccessful Black women who also like to chase bad boys or married bad boys –- all while draped in a Christianity Cape, under the illusion that their “better” than other women.
But Omarosa’s peculiar insanity was also evident in how she constantly glorified her visiting pastor (a judge on the show), who slobbered all over her like she was a big ol’ helping of sweet potatoes and fried pork chops. Pastor “please gimme some of dat” couldn’t take his eyes off of her. And I loved how she kept referring to him as her ‘spiritual adviser.’”
Imagine that? When she finally gets a husband, I’d like to be a fly on the wall when she tells him, “Honey, I’ll be back in a few — I’m going to see Pastor ‘Please Gimme Some’ . . . uhhh, I mean, I’m going to see my ‘spiritual adviser.'”
In reality, Omarosa’s that chick that sits up in front of the church with the tight skirt, crossing and uncrossing her legs, in full view of the pastor.
While running one prospect’s contract through the paper shredder at the end of one elimination round, Omarosa looked at him and said, “I’m in the ministry, and I cannot proceed with this merger in good conscience.” Yet, this is the same Holy Woman that had Karrine Steffans, better known as “Super Head,” on the show, calling her one of her best friends. Most know Steffans from her having written two books about how she “did” half the rap industry some years ago, and was passed around like a joint.
But what I kept thinking was, “Hmmmm, now what in the world would these two have in common?”
“Don’t stop! Git it! Git it! . . . .” They’re freaks. (And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. But don’t perpetrate.)
A quick message to the “My man gotta be a Christian” sistahs out there: if you’re going to act “holier than thou,” carry your bible around, and beat men over the head with bible quotes, then don’t be a hypocrite and act like you cannot date or marry certain men because they’re not a Christian or don’t go to church on a regular basis. The only one really buying the “holier than thou” charade is you. Believe it – sane men and women see it coming from a mile away.
The problem with Omarosa and her “species of women” is they practically always have more than a few skeletons in the closet, and just found a new way –- by wrapping themselves “in Jesus name” –- to pimp a different game, the superiority game. But behind the superior attitudes are usually feelings of inferiority because these women were often made to feel “low” in their past hoochie life — but now they seem to be seeking some type of revenge on men, in general.
Additionally, Omarosa has gold-digger tendencies and any relationship she has with someone who’s not rich and/or famous, or who cannot “pimp the word,” will not last. It’s all about the “show” with her.
Ultimately, Omarosa didn’t select a winner because, like all of the other “searching for love” shows, she and Trump are looking to do an “Ultimate Merger II,” just like Ray J, Flavor Flav, Bret Michaels, and all the rest did. And the TV love show thing is never sincere, because you cannot find love on TV when everyone is just a wannabe actor or actress looking for their first or another 15 minutes of fame.
Just remember: be you and do you — but don’t be fake.