Anxiety Activator #70: Sir Oprah Winfrey’s Eye Sauce

I’m sorry, but is it just me, or does Oprah seem to be experiencing some serious eyeball leakage lately? I feel like projectile vomiting at her audience members (more than usual) when I get a gander at that eye sauce.

Inbred shiatsus have less tear output, and at least they have the fur to soak it up once it’s made a run for the border. The world’s favorite hawker of panini-makers needs to turn those greasy peepers away from camera four and over to an ophthalmologist who can dry that shit up. I don’t like it. It’s disgusting.

And I know that goo isn’t tears because it is present even when she’s not talking about her shameful kinship with potato chips. If I wanted to watch an hour of juicing, I’d flip back to the Jack Lalane informercial I was watching before I started craving liquefied celery.

But I don’t want to watch an hour of viscous fluid production; that’s why I changed the goddamn channel in the first place! So for the love of G.O.B., will you get those things fixed?!