The epic battle between Poor Lucky Me and Oprah is finally over. And the score has come in:
PLM: 1 Oprah: 0
It was a struggle. The day of and after her “anniversary show” my neighborhood looked like a police horse shit minefield. The “snack and soda” aisle at the local Dominicks was packed with fatties in skirt suits. The Black Eyed Peas and their crappy crappy music haunted the entire 60611 zip code. But I thwarted you Oprah. I took my life underground. I joined the hobos and drug dealers under lower Michigan, lower Illinois, lower Wacker. I drove my car around down there like I was batman (except with a silver Nissan Rogue instead of a cool futuristic motorcycle type vehicle).
I know that when you gave the signal for the crew to start packing up you must have felt a little wistful that our score was settled. Losing an enemy is as lonely as losing a friend sometimes. Especially a formidably foe such as myself, who has taken up so much of your mental energy.
But who knows whats next for us Oprah. Maybe this is the beginning of a powerful alliance. Maybe even a friendship.
