I am happy to report that, today, I have no headaches, no stomach aches and no burning desire to just die, already!
Last week I may have overdosed on Excedrin Migraine and Ibuprofin in my repeated attempts to douse that burning, aching horror show in my head. I developed a wicked stomach ache that felt like maybe someone was inside my abdomen scrubbing my guts with a wire brush. I diagnosed myself, with the help of WebMD’s symptom checker, with gastritis. I stopped taking too many medications and I am feeling much better, thank you.
I would like to talk about Oprah and how she’s not even doing this fucking cleanse right. First of all, don’t we all want to fly a chef in to cook for us for the first two weeks of our cleanse and then maybe have him FedEx our meals to us while we party in Las Vegas. Seriously, Oprah? You can’t just take a taxi to Safeway and buy your own god damn MorningStar Sausages which aren’t even gluten free, you cheating whore? I mean, COME ON OPRAH WINFREY! FOR REALS!?
I guess I am talking about the same woman who doesn’t know how to pump gas, so what was I expecting?
Also, if Oprah can’t go for three weeks without a glass of wine, if she feels like she deserves wine and can’t wait three weeks, then Oprah is a drunk and needs to take her ass to Cirque Lodge to recover from her “exhaustion” or her “depression” or whatever celebrities are calling their addiction these days. Oprah, please – no one deserves a glass of wine, except maybe Jesus and only because he made it out of water and that’s some serious shit. But he’s not real, so therefor no one DESERVES wine, especially if they can’t go for three weeks without it because they need to celebrate their three month long vacation.
As an aside, I’d like to say that I like rich people like Oprah and her pal Donald Trump because they do ridiculous shit like send each other a dozen Mar-A-Lago key lime pies. Because clearly Oprah needs 12 pies, Donald Trump. For God’s sake – 12 pies? At least she gave them to her audience, those people she forces to sit through an episode with celebrated artists like Tina Turner while she tries to sing along to lyrics she seems to never have heard before deserve a piece of pie, at the very least. Of course, we have no proof that all 12 pies made it to them, because if I were Oprah I’d lock myself in my office and sit in the corner eating one of those things all by myself.
I bet that pie was delicious.