I am kicking it with Reuben in my room.  He’s smoked a little weed but I’m sticking to just red wine tonight.

Hey, did you hear that Oprah’s devoting an episode to her weight gain?  I ask him.

Oh really, he says, what happened?

She gained forty pounds, I answer.

Both Reuben and Oprah suffer from a thyroid disorder.  Reuben has shown me literature that links thyroid disorders with a decrease in one’s metabolism.  His thyroids could, theoretically, explain Reuben’s weight gain over the last two years.  Of course, his lack of impulse control and his insatiable appetite has nothing to do with it.  It’s all about the thyroids.

You know, Reuben says, Oprah’s probably not getting any sex.

OH!  OMG!  You think Oprah’s sublimating through food?  I ask him.

Sublimation, as I understand it, is the process where, because you’re frustrated with one area in your life or are fearful of working through the issue, you find another outlet to relieve that energy.  I must have a lot of issues because I sublimate through both food and sex.  Lots and lots of each.  I kid you not — back when I first hit puberty one of my fantasies was about a guy with perfect round white ass sucking on my candy while I’m stuffing my face with a Mushroom&Cheese steak with cheese fries.  I’ve never acted this out in reality, however.  Somethings are better left in fantasy land.  But I think I’ve found the perfect alternative:  I get paid for the latter addiction so I can support the former.   

Reuben doesn’t answer my question.  

So you think her relationship with Stedman is non-sexual?  I ask Reuben.  And that she’s eating her way through her sexual frustration?

Can you see Oprah having sex with anyone?  he responds.

He goes on.  I mean, can you imagine Oprah getting fucked?  Doggy style? 

Actually, no, I can’t see Oprah having sex.  Especially not doggy style. 

And, now, after this blog entry, I can’t see myself ever getting invited on to Oprah’s show, either.

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Tags: culture