Mircale of the Big O

I don’t often watch Oprah, but the past few times that I’ve caught her show, it seems like one big product placement or another commercial for one of her many media companies, like her XM satellite “Oprah and Friends” radio gig.

For example, she mentions Kodak, Chevy Impala and XM Radio every three seconds during her road trip with her best friend, Gayle King. We get the fucking picture, Oprah.

I guess Oprah had to create some kind of job for Gayle. She can’t go on being Dino to Oprah’s Frank, forever. I recall reading in the National Enquirer after Gayle’s divorce that her husband got sick of her friendship with Oprah and Oprah’s incessant phone calls.

Over the Labor Day weekend, I caught the 11 p.m. repeat of the day’s Oprah telecast. Oprah trotted out all of her buddies – Bob Greene, Dr. Robin Smith, Nate Berkus, Jean Chatzky and Dr. Mehmet Oz. (Did you ever notice that except for Gayle, all of Oprah’s friends are white?) Anyway, this crew is better than some of the other media tyrants she’s created, like Dr. Phil.

Dr. Oz was my favorite. He spent a lot of talking about poo. I have a lot of poo issues myself, dating back to when I was four years old and my father caught me running into my bedroom from the bathroom after I had just hidden one of my turds in a plastic toy teapot. I just wanted to see what it was made of, but my father, sensing that I was up to something, immediately looked inside my little teapot and flung it into the garbage.

Oprah said she didn’t need therapy because she’s talked to Gayle every night for like the past 20 years. I can see why Gayle’s husband dumped her. Oprah said she was going to tape these conversations with Gayle and replay them on “Oprah and Friends.” Gee, thanks for the warning.

Through the miracle of wire tapping, courtesy of Condoleezza Rice and the National Security Administration, here is a transcript of one of Oprah’s and Gayle’s nightly phone calls.

Ring, ring.

Oprah: Hello, girlfriend.

Gayle: Hmmm, hmmm.

Oprah: Ooo, girl, I took myself a big ol’ dump this morning.

Gayle: I did too, except it was one of those toothpaste dumps, you know, like Dr. Oz says with the jagged ends. I think I might have polyps.

Oprah: Mine was a big ol’ cobra coil, like the poisonous snakes Steve Irwin used to rassle with on "Crocodile Hunter," God rest his soul.

Gayle: Girl, do you think you could loan me some money so I can get a colonoscopy?

Oprah: I’m already puttin’ your shorties through college. What do you do with all the money I give you?

Gayle: I’ve been eating fiber and every thing. Every morning I get up and eat a big bowl of grits, and still, I keep makin’ all these toothpaste dumps.

Oprah: Mine was shaped like a “C.” Dr. Oz says I’m doing real good.

Gayle: He’s so fine.

Oprah: Except both ends joined and formed an “O” in the toilet. It was a revelation.

Gayle: I think it’s a sign that “Oprah and Friends” is going to be a huge success, just like all your other media ventures.

Oprah: I made Stedman come in and look at it. I recorded it in my gratitude journal.

Gayle: It’s too bad that when we got home from our road trip you caught Stedman in bed with that other woman.

Oprah: I wonder how the National Enquirer found out about it.

Gayle: Isn’t that a funny word, polyps? POLLLLLYYYYPPPPSSSS.

Oprah: Stop it girl, you’re makin’ me wet myself.

Gayle: POLLLLLLYYYYYYPPPPPSSSS.

Oprah: I love you, Gayle. I’m jumpin’ on my sofa right now.

Gayle: I love you too, O. I live in your light.

It’s enough to make you want to dump Sirius and Howard Stern and sign up for XM.