Oprah Fan to Oprah: "Where’s My Damn Car?!"

Chicago, Illinois --

In the parking lot waving a piece of paper in her hand, Charlene Jackson, 25, stood on the hood of her car, a compact clunker model from the late 1980s. As other Oprah fans exiting the finale shuffled solemnly by, she encouraged them to join her. To sign her petition in hopes of forming a class action lawsuit to sue "The Big O" for not having a single makeover, dream vacation giveaway or especially a new car for her loyal fans that attended her final show.

"Sure we all love Oprah. And we’re all real sorry to see her go," said Charlene Jackson to growing crowd that all nodded their heads in agreement with her. "Now I have just one question to ask Oprah that she never got around to answering and that is: Where’s my damn car?!"

The crowd roared with applause.

"Well, since Oprah never answered my question. I guess will," continued Charlene Jackson "I’ll tell you where it is…"

Charlene Jackson then jumped down from the hood of her car.

"It’s right here!" said Charlene Jackson banging the hood, putting yet another dent in it.

Convincing the crowd that she along with the rest of them deserved a new car, Charlene Jackson got dozens of signatures before she was detained by security and her car towed away by police for expired vehicle registration (no tags).

Later, Charlene Jackson was spotted waving another piece of paper. Only this time it was a dollar bill she was waving in the air and she was not standing on the hood of her car. But a bus bench, awaiting the arrival of public transportation.

"Where’s my damn bus?!" Charlene Jackson yelled out to passing cars. "Where’s my damn bus?!"

Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All right reserved.

Octomom Gets Suze Orman’s Top 10 Financial Advice…And Then Some

"Mommy, is
Suze gone yet?"

The following Top 10 List of Financial Advice from that gabby guru of gush, Suze Orman, to the cash-strapped Octomom (Nadya Suleman) was inspired from that recently aired TV program on the Oprah Winfrey Show. Enjoy.


10) Change your last name to something less ethnic sounding like O’Brian. That way you’ll draw more sympathy from the American public and acceptance in the media.

9) Remodel your house into the shape of a giant shoe and ask Pee-wee Herman to marry you. I hear he’s good with kids and is a very snappy dresser. Although be prepared to go down on your hands and knees, because I also hear he doesn’t like to clean up after himself. What? Well, he doesn’t.

8) Sell your bodily fluids. Blood is okay, but urine is better. You can get top dollar selling your pee to someone that’s desperate to pass a drug test. Ladies, you’d be surprised what corporate TV executives will pay, or do, for a clean catch from a menstruating middle-aged woman today -- Believe me, I know.

7) Harvest your organs….Or someone else’s. Wink. Wink. No, just kidding. That’s illegal in most countries…in most countries. Just saying is all.

6) Open up a Day Care Center taking care of your neighbor’s kids. It’s ironic, I know. But trust me, at this point a few more rug rats running around won’t make a difference. Not only that, you’ll get a tax break and will be able to call yourself a “Businesswoman” instead of just a “Housewife”, which for some odd reason helps. I don’t know why. They are the same jobs, just different titles, falling under separate sections of the tax code.

5) Put the “Little Ones” to work. Granted they got tiny hands that can’t grasp much, but they fit well into tight spaces like garbage disposals, pool drains and conveniently under lawnmowers, too.

4) Rent out your womb to a Hollywood celebrity like Angelina-Jolie. Or even a Quasi-Celebrity wannabe like Madonna.

3) Buy a decommissioned school bus, paint it all kinds of crazy hippie colors, bill yourself and the kids as the new “Partridge Family” and hit the road. Never looking back.

2) Still looking for Mr. Right? Insure the hell out of yourself, naming your children as irrevocable beneficiaries and then go on a blind date with some guy you just met on Craigslist. Why then, you’ll be worth more dead than alive.

1) Buy my new book: “How to Succeed by Using Your Feminine Wilds to Bilk Horny Geezers with Nothing Better To Do But Hang Out at a Diner All Day Gawking at What They Perceive to be a Straight Woman Out of Their Hard Earned Cash to Give You Your Big Break in the Lucrative Financial Consultant Business Without Really Trying (Like Me, Suze Orman!)”


Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Jay Leno Attempted to Takeover the ‘Oprah Winfrey Show’?

Chicago, Illinois --

“Tell me Jay,” asked a seemingly sympathetic Oprah before her live studio audience on her TV show bearing her name. “Do you feel like the bad guy? Hold on to your answer for a second, while we pause to take a short commercial break.”

As the flashing red studio applauds sign stopped and the clapping along with it, Jay Leno leaned forward to the edge of the couch to ask Oprah a question.

“Wow! You got quite a setup here,” said Jay Leno as he rubbed his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” said Oprah as a makeup artist blotted her face and the director counted down the seconds back to airtime.

“Three, two, one…” said the director.

“Do you feel like the bad guy?” continued Oprah picking up her line of questioning right where she left off.

“Not really,” answered Jay Leno as he leaned back, looking over his shoulder at an espresso machine and barista standing off stage. “Say, is that a full service mini café with an attendant over there?”

Oprah looking nervous simply ignored Jay Leno's question and repeated her own instead.

“Do you feel like the media has portrayed you unfairly?” Oprah asked.

Jay Leno did not answer. He just kept turning his head, looking around the studio as he sat on the couch.

“Hey, I bet this sofa is new,” said Jay Leno, as he began to bounce up and down on it, testing with his weight.

“Huh? What?” Oprah replied looking to her director who was standing off camera giving her the cut signal.

“That green room of yours is sure roomy,” said Jay Leno as he began lifting up and turning over the couch pillows for a closer inspection. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one quite that big before...”

“Stedman!” Oprah suddenly screamed out. “Take him out!”

Just then a man in a black hooded Ninja suit with an automatic weapon strapped to his back propelled down on a rope from the studio scaffolding above, landing on the stage right in front of Jay Leno.

“…And your audience,” continued Jay Leno, unawares as to what was going on as he had his head buried deep in the recesses of the couch. “What’s their demographic?”

Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo