Oh, Oprah.


Last week I was doing what I love most in the world,  kicking back with an ice cold margarita while being hand fed tasty morsels by Bradley Cooper,  waiting in an urgent care clinic for my SIL who I agreed to drive there.

** Warning for male readers – this post is going to go south about halfway through. Literally and figuratively. **

Medical facility waiting rooms are my least favorite place in the world. Crowded, obnoxiously loud, human petri dishes. Breeding grounds for the passage of whatever plague is currently circulating. Worried about mad cow disease or the bird flu? Forget the barnyard…. you’ll catch it here. Had I owned a bio hazard suit, I would have worn it proudly. With triple duct tape at the joints.




As I was sitting in an unobtrusive corner trying not to breath, I realized my phone had died and I was at the mercy of the magazine rack. (Not reading is out of the question. Someone might want to start up a conversation and that’s entirely too much close contact when you’re trapped in a disease ridden incubator from Hell.)

As you know, medical waiting room magazine racks are filled with riveting copies of  Breast Feeding Monthly, How to Avoid Herpes newsletters and Let’s Identify that Secretion Digest.

I figured Oprah’s magazine would be the least revolting choice and grabbed her new issue.




Oh, Oprah…

( Now would be a good time to point out that I detest women’s magazines in general. I have never needed to know how to bake a better bundt, why the soles of my feet are making me unhappy or what to do if my husband is cheating on me with my mother. )

And Hell, I didn’t even get past Oprah’s cover before I was rolling my eyes.




While I have a girlfriend whose husband thinks hers has been on vacation since 2006…

I was guessing this article wasn’t about sex and shuddered to think about the tips hidden inside.




I’d rather you didn’t, but thanks all the same.

The teaser didn’t bode well.




And it made me wonder how mine has survived all these summers without the benefit of expert advice.





Now that’s advice you can use.

I refuse to go into detail about the article, but will post a picture of it for anyone who’s interested.




In a nutshell? Treat Her Right.


You heard it here first.





29 thoughts on “Oh, Oprah.”

  1. While much of the rest of the body is getting aired out in the summer, the poor vajayjay has to stay bundled up like it was January. I’d be pissed too if I were a ‘gina (Which I’m not, though I have been called the male part by many people)…

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m not too keen on anyone telling me what I should or shouldn’t do with my lady garden parts thank you very much, lol. I’ve seen so many magazines with that topic, I’m like NOPE…

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I would rather be reading about Oprah’s vagina then keep the 8 doctor appointments this week that I made knowing I would have Allen’s car BUT OMG!!! the calls reminding me of appointments, then calls changing appointments and how about one telling me the Doctor decided to take a vacation 2 days before my appointment–WHAT!?!?!?!?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I have never given Mr. Happy a second thought about summer or wintertime activities. My manly bits usually go along with just about anything I am up to. Well, there is that thing about getting caught in zippers, but we’ll not go there …
    I don’t think I have ever seen advice in Men’s magazines about 20 nifty ways to pamper the piccolo after a hot weekend …
    ‘Tis a weird universe you live in, lass …

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Women’s magazines have all the answer to all the questions we never asked. They struggle so hard to keep our attention but the end result is they insult our intelligence. Now, if the magazine promoted blogs, blogging, podcasts and youtube videos to enhance our world – that would be worth sharing with one and all. Thanks for a delightful post – I really haven’t read many Oprah magazines lately and I’m totally ok with it!

    Liked by 1 person

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