Kneeling, sobbing, begging, sighing, thumping my chest with my fist, dear Lord set us free. Throwing myself prostrate on the Baptist Church aisle along which Obama had his chat with the Lord, kicking, crying, beseeching, please NOT Oprah, anything BUT Oprah. I’ll even give a little on Obama but please NOT Oprah. Lordy, lordy, Jesus. You spoke to Obama. Speak to me. Please speak to me. I’m listening. Listening harder. Ear to the floor listening. Nope. The Lord ONLY spoke with Obama in that very aisle. He was relaying a message from Oprah. Heck she’s got God working for her as well. Is there NO God without Oprah’s influence? Please say it aint so. Please!!!

NO! HER VERY, VERY BEST FRIEND GAYLE WILL BE THE VICE PRESIDENT. It’s too much. I can’t stand it another minute. Where’s the Golden Gate Bridge? Throwing myself off now. NO! Don’t stop me. I can’t live another minute. NO! Stand back. What’s that you say? Her dog Sophie is going to be the Vice President for human affairs. Hmmmmmm, I bet that dog could tell some stories about Steadman and the big O, and that aint for Orbison. Oooooooooooo