Dear Oprah,

I heard you were coming to town. I heard you were going to do two shows at the Sydney Opera House. I was excited. I was anxious. I was hopeful. I was determined to get tickets to your show.

Fuck you for getting my hopes up, bitch.

Seriously. I know you’re rich and all, but what on god’s green earth makes you think you can torment people like this? You announced it and then said that you are going to raffle off tickets. I waited patiently by my computer for weeks, and then registration opened – a very short period – and I registered. I registered with my Gmail address and used my US physical address. Then I registered with Yahoo e-mail address and used my Australian physical address. And when the form said I had to specify a guest, I specified my friend Karen on the first registration and my friend Jason on the second registration, and then they both went and registered and specified me as their guest. And we did this for each of the two tapings. That’s my name in the raffle eight times. Surely I was bound to get a ticket somewhere, right?

Wrong.

I received the e-mail:

Subject:

The Oprah Show Reservation Request Status

Text:

Thank you for your interest in attending The Oprah Show from Sydney, Australia.

Unfortunately, we were unable to accommodate your request(s) for this ticket reservation window due to overwhelming demand. We will email you if more tickets become available for these tapings of The Oprah Show in Sydney, Australia.

Of course, my first move after this: text Karen and Jason to see if they got tickets.

Me: I got an e-mail from Oprah saying that she wouldn’t give me tickets :( I never really liked her anyway…

Jason: Bitch.

Karen: Fuck her. She’s fat.

Well, there goes that. But wait! A day later and another e-mail from the Oprah show! Could I be off the waiting list and into the audience where I’ll receive glamorous Oprah gifts beyond my wildest dreams???

Subject:

Status of Your Ticket Request for The Oprah Show

Oh this could be it!!!

Text:

Thank you for your interest in attending 'The Oprah Show' from Sydney, Australia. You are receiving this email because we have had reports that some of you may not have been able to view the previous version that was sent. We are sending this email to ensure you are aware of the status of your ticket request(s).

Unfortunately, we were unable to accommodate your request(s) for this ticket reservation window due to overwhelming demand. We will email you if more tickets become available for these tapings of The Oprah Show in Sydney, Australia.

We apologize for any confusion you may have encountered.

You apologize for any confusion??? Ok, bitch. That’s it. You’re gonna get it. Here we go.

First of all, I got your first e-mail. I got it loud and clear. And I got it in both of my e-mail addresses so I had to read it twice. Just rub it in how great you are and how we – the common folk – the plebeians – the huddled masses yearning to breathe free – aren’t allowed to see your majesty because we’re just too far down the ladder for your royal highness. Pish. You may eat at the 5-star restaurants, but you know you’re a McDonald’s girl at heart. And I? I am a Chipotle boy, and I don’t think anyone would disagree when I say that Chipotle is of a much higher caliber than Mickey D’s.

Secondly, Karen was right. I saw your interview with the Jackson family earlier this week. And I saw your arms. How could I not? They were blocking half the shot. Did you eat Gayle? Was she hiding in there somewhere? Now, I know I’m no skinny bitch. And that’s fine. But you – you are a BILLIONAIRE. You have more money than Jesus’ publicist and yet you can’t afford a personal trainer to make you look all good and shit? Hell, you even have your own personal chef. Tell him to stop feeding you fatty foods and to steam your ass some celery or zucchini or something. And, also, don’t be drinking gravy as your beverage at dinner. Not good.

Thirdly, yeah yeah yeah – you give away shit. And you gave a whole audience cars one day a few years back, but you know what – you gave them Pontiacs. Pontiacs. Of all cars, you gave them the shittiest. Didn’t GM discontinue Pontiac not too long ago? And do you know why? Because they suck. That’s why. You gave your whole audience shitty cars. Why not a Honda? Or a Nissan? Or even a Subaru? Yes, Subaru screams lesbian or hippie or lesbian hippie or hippie lesbian, but they’re practical and those people in the audience sure could use the all wheel drive.

And last – but certainly not least – you ruined America. Oh yes, I’m going there. Your fat ass campaigned for Barack Obama during the primary and he edged out Hillary Clinton. Now, look around you, Oprah. Do you see what’s going on? All that hope and change… oh wait… it’s not there. There’s no hope and there’s been no change. The healthcare thing was ok, but really doesn’t go as far as Hillary’s proposal would have. And he’s completely ignored gay rights. And he didn’t pull the troops out of Iraq like he said he would. And he squandered his supermajorities and now the Republicans took the House back and we’re all fucked. You have a lot of weight to throw around, Oprah, and you threw it in the wrong direction. Millions of American women read every book you tell them to and always do exactly what you tell them to do and had you told them to be pragmatic and vote for Hillary Clinton I think our nation would be a hell of a lot better off. Seriously. I blame you and your followers.

And Gayle King. As your secret lesbian lover, she should’ve stopped you.

In summation, I’d like to point out that this offence is just the rotten cherry on top of the bitter icing on the hate cake. The cake which you probably just devoured in one humongous bite.

Sincerely,

Phill

p.s. Oprah, if you’re reading this: I love you! Please send me tickets to your show!