Smear Campaign

Turning Shit into Gold since 2006

Mopy No Opy

Afternoon television will never be the same once Oprah’s historical run as the emotion midwife to millions of women worldwide comes to an end after 25 years of commercial littered counseling. Before the empress bows once and for all from her mighty stage of self help, she plans to publicly release a handful or less of her personal diary entries. 

Oprah’s back catalogue of non-fiction includes real life accounts of teenage dating, semi-celebrity dating, secret siblings, and never before seen blooper outtakes from the set of “The Color Purple”. She has truly saved the best dance for last. 

Here in dazzling Smear Vision, Oprah’s Private Journal Entries:

January 23, 1969
Dear Diary,

What can I say, Anthony is just about the cutest boy I have ever seen. In fact, he actually looks a lot like he could be Gail’s brother. Weird. The Winter Dance is just around the corner and I would like to tell you a few of my favorite things about going to the dance with Anthony:

1.) He understands the dance’s theme better than anyone else. ‘Fire Under the Sea’ is as complex as last semester’s ‘Ice Above the Waves’ dance. 
2.) Anthony is my kind of guy. He has no problem waiting around doing nothing while Gail and I go to the movies or a debate team pizza party. He is not the kind of guy who needs to be seen all the time to be recognized. Quiet as a mouse, yet loyal as a dog.
3.) This whole dating thing really pisses my parents off, so naturally I am drawn to such activities. Rebellion is my middle name. Suck it Moon.

June 17, 1981
Dearest Journal, my life vest,

Seems like we are always chatting about my troubles in love, but this time I think I have found a winner. His name is Roger Ebert and he is fabulous! He writes movie reviews for the Chicago-Sun Times and hosts a show with some guy named Sagal or Seagull, I am not sure. He took me to this really fancy Cheese Cake Factory Outlet that had the most amazing upside down vertigo cake. To die for! 

Anyway, he told me that I am like totally above Ricki Lake and Sally Jesse Raphael when it comes to entertaining middle aged women and that I should take my local talk show national. I completely lost interest when he started blabbing about his Pulitzer Prize, but his faith in my talk show hosting abilities gives me confidence. 

January 22, 2010

Journal Entry 39,420:
You have got to be shitting me. Everything was going so great this year. Gail and I roughed it at Yellowstone National Park where we did not wear makeup for four days straight and took the Yogi Bear Picnic Basket Snatching tour, and this is third consecutive month Steadman finally stopped sneaking into my room in the middle of the night to cuddle.   

But no, nothing ever goes my way. Even after I gave a stadium full of fans a new car one of them manages to ruin that fun by suing me for an airbag injury she sustained after she rolled into a ball pit playscape while texting in a McDonalds drive-thru. 

Now, after 50 years of secrecy, I find out that I have a half-sister in some Podunk village in middle America. Great, now I am sure I will have to financially relieve this Wal-Mart greeter from her numbing occupation. Say goodbye to waving toothless penny pinchers into the holy land of slashed prices and say hello to Margaritas on the terrace with a hyperactive Tom Cruise.    

July 19, 1984
Dear Thought Log,

Well, it was another wacky day on the set of “The Color Purple.” Whoopi and I are really into pulling pranks on the set these days, much to the dismay of Mr. Steve “Jaws” Spielberg. Guess the last eight times we put a whoopi cushion under his director’s chair and he didn’t laugh should have been an indication of his always serious demeanor. 

I totally keep flubbing up my lines and it seems to be really putting us behind filming schedule. I tell you, sometimes I look at Danny Glover trying to be mean to me and all I see is the goofy cop character he plated in Naked Gun and it is hard not to laugh.

The Kraft table on set pretty much rules. I have asked them to remove all of the carrot and celery sticks from the platters and replace them with pizza bagels. Ahhh, I am so eating like a college girl, but abstaining from that inevitable 4 o’clock sugar rush is impossible. Thespians, you know what I am talking about. 

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