NSA transcript 453344000499433344455w22344422344. 2014: USA

Respondent 1 identified as Oprah Winfrey ( NSA file 33442249945000WFRY)

Respondent 2 identified as Cindafuckingrella (NSA file 0000229938947774744CINF)

R2: Hello?

R1: Hey sweetie, it’s Oprah.

R2: Oprah who?

R1: (Laughs) You know damn well who. (Laughs) (In mocking voice) ’Oprah who?’. (Laughs) There IS only one, you know.

(00:10:22: Cross-laughing)

R2: (Laughs) I know. Hi Oprah, how great to hear from you. How are things?

R1: That’s what I want to know. It’s been ages since you’ve blogged and frankly I’m worried about you.

R2: Yeah, I know. I just have nothing to say these days. [ 00:47:09: Inaudiable] …that I ever did before but… I just got a bootie call from life and it wanted to fuck me over.

R1: (Chuckles)

R2: I’m just very overwhelmed by everything that’s going on.

R1: Uh-uh. How is you mother doing?

R2: Ehm.. Well. Chemo. She feels like shit. She still has all of her hair. Initial blod tests say she is responding well to treatment.

R1: Uh-uh.. And is she..

(02:00:34: Cross talk)

R2: She’s doing allright for what it is. She has a scan coming up to see if the tumour shrunk as they are hoping.

R1: So no radiation, just chemo for now?

R2: Yeah, and they are hoping to shrink it and then surgically remove it. But it’s the liver, you know. From what little I understand, that is not a cool place to get cancer.

R1: Cancer isn’t cool anywhere but I hear you!

R2: She lost a lot of weight. She is tiny now. She looks so small.

R1: Uh-uh.

R2: She has good days and bad days. I mean, on a good day she’ll go shopping or visit friends. But she also gets very tired and lies on the couch all day some days.

R1: And your dad?

R2: He is still doing okay. Responding well to his medication. (Sighs) His Alzheimers is on a plateau.

R1: Good, good… And how is he taking all of this?

R2: It’s hard for him, of course. He is keeping up a brave face but I know he is worried sick, of course… (Cross talk)

R1: Of course…

R2: What is this fucking place in life, you know? Small children and old parents to deal with while entering middle age.

R1: You are NOT middle aged. (Laughter) Jesus, you not even 40 yet.

R2: I’m not where I thought I’d be though. 40 is coming and I cannot stay in this job. I suck at it and it’s just awful.

R1: So, what do you want?

R2: Are you going all Deepak on me now? (Fakes Indian accent) ’What do you really want out of life? You can get it by meditating and eating birdie nam-nam’. (Laughs)

R1: (Laughs) Shut up! Meditating IS good for you!

R2: I know. (Sighs.) What do I want? I want to escape. I want someone to save me. I want to be discovered. Taken care off. (Mocking childish-voice) ’I don’t wanna be the adult, waaah.’ (Sighs) Adulthood is way over-fucking-rated.

R1: How are things with Hubbs?

R2: Fine. We’re fine. He keeps me sane, gives me perspective. You know. (Pause) But, I mean… I hear women peak sexually in their early 40s. Lotta good that does me… (Laughs)

R1: (Laughs) Steadman read this book called (…) and we’ve been going at it like we were 17!

R2: So he does the jack-rabbit and you just lay there trying to suck you belly in and look pretty? (Laughs)

R1: (Laughs) No, guuurl, he’s hot. Hours, I tell ya! The other night he (…) this huge (…) TWO hours!!

R2: Wow, really? Send me that book!

(Cross laughing)

R1: So. Did you talk to George?

R2: Yeah, he drunk-dialed me the night before their wedding.

R1: SHUT UP, really?

R2: Yeah, it was sad. I told him: Look, you are marrying the perfect woman – she looks like a Persian princess, she is a high-profile human’s right lawyer (Scroffs), she has a thigh gap the size of L’Arc de Triumphe, so what are you crying about?

(Cross talk)

R1: And is he still desperately in love with y… (Cross talk)

R2: I told him: ”Look, I’m happily married to a guy, who enters the bathroom while I am brushing my teeth and sits down to take a dump while ignoring me completely. You just can’t match that level of comfort, George.” (Laughs)

R1: So basically you are dealing with all of this by fantasizing about having fameous friends and being loved by George Clooney?

R2: It worked in high school! Got through by imagining being picked up out side of the school in front of all the skinny girls by James from Twin Peaks on his Harley.

R1: And were you EVER picked up in front of your high school by a hot guy?

R2: Never. But my friend once picked me up in his red sports car. My gay friend. Not even ’cool-gay’ like we were Will and Grace and had a zingy-relationship with lots of sharp wit and quick one-liners. He was kind of boring and just happend to prefer dick. And I don’t actually think anyone saw him picking me up. (Sighs)

R1: Eh, okay. Well, are you going to start blogging more?

R2: Dunno. I’m just trying to survive right now.

R1: Well, can you do it with out bring me and my good name into it? I am one of the world’s most powerful women with very powerful friends. I’d rather not be associated with your puny blog of dubious quality which is – by the way – totally lacking a leit motif. And a bit of proof-reading would do you no harm neither!

R2: Sorry Oprah. I have been toying with the idea of getting a call from Ellen anyway.

R1: What’s with you and American daytime TV talk show hosts?

R2: I dunno. I’m pathetic?

R1: Well, can we wrap it up?

R2: Yeah, yeah. So, thanks for calling O-pie. I appreciate you being concerned about me and worrying about my welfare.

R1: O-pie? Like you have a nick-name for me? Really?

R2: Just go with it, okay?


(Recording stopped abruptly)

NSA File Log: 444838839393 CINWRY_443999_3884_00xxxx_8488383.


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