Sorry Oprah

Get up. Watch Sportscenter while checking Twitter. Go to work, and try not to get discouraged by the uninspiring atmosphere. Bust your ass for no reward. Come home. If you’re lucky The Lady is there to take the edge off the malaise. If she is not, drown the malaise with a six pack of liquid mind number, and stay tuned for more wacky hijinx on America’s Got Me Fucked Literally (but really figuratively).

Maybe one day I’ll find “The Secret” like Oprah, and my life will bloom like a new rose and the world will be my oyster and unicorns will shit rainbows of magic pooh on my head. Until then my shitty attitude will be be my umbrella, and Oprah can suck many boring dicks.

Sorry Oprah,

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