Flight of the Elephants and my run in with Oprah

So I'm on the midwest leg of the "Book Whore Tour" or "Whore-a-Palooza", as I sometimes refer to it, and I have to tell you about my short flight from Chicago to Milwaukee. I got seated between two enormous women.

Now you all know I don't hate fat people, because I can tell from your pictures that most of you are butterballs in your ownright. But on this fucking flight, I got seated between two tubbos! Hemmed in, sticking like glue to my seat, and couldn't move my arms. It wasn't about fat. I couldn't breathe!

First thing I did was attempt to complain to the flight attendent. Since I couldn't get my arm up to hit the call button, I had to yell "hey waitress!" After a while, the flight attendent (when did they begin calling those little Barbie doll bitch stewardesses "flight attendants" anyway?) just SAUNTERED over. After I got done shrieking at her about how I'm a best selling author and one of Time Magazine's most influential Hispanics, I told her I was seated between a couple of real FATSOS (I mean these girls were heifers) and that I had a right to be moved. She looked at me funny. I again demanded to be moved. She asked me where to. I said somewhere where I wouldn't have woolly mammoths surrounding me!

"But they aren't fat," she said. She told me that if I wanted more room I could pay for two seats. Then some black lady got smart with me and said they only SEEM fat because it was me that was taking up all the room. She made up something about the Wisconsin lacrosse team that was on the flight and was complaining about me! Can you believe it? I, the Reina Dirty, have been the injured victim of fucking fat people and they were calling ME the fat and dissruptive one! They are going to hear from my attorney. And as for that lacrosse team, don't they have stripper to rape or something better to do than complain about me?

The flight totally sucked and Wisconsin pretty much sucked too. But Chicago was the worst!

First, after my morning venti double-decaf soy chai latte, I tootle-ooed over to Michigan Avenue for a little Reina Dirty shopping. You know, me time? The bigger the designer logo, the better, so I whipped out my platinum card and got ready to charge. First stop, the Louis Vuitton boutique, where I shoveled the designer purses into a big black garbage bag and made them take the whole pile back to my hotel and arrange them on my bed.

Then Gucci. They told me cmy ard had been rejected (note to self, sue those bastards too) and I told them this was why fucking capitalism sucks and my hero, fidel, was one day gonna teach them but that until then my pals, the communist Chinese, were going to continue destroying their market by making fake bags.

Then I went to Christian Dior and you wouldn't believe who I saw in that stupid little shop: it was that fucking twat, Oprah Winfrey! She was looking at some boring bag WITH NO LOGO on it, I had to take advantage of the opportunity and give her a piece of my mind.

A little background. Everyone knows that getting on that cunt's book club is the holy grail for an author. And she has snubbed all three of my books. She's a racist. Oh she talks a big game about "women of color" and all of that feel good garbage that females love to hear because she sure as hell doesn't like to shill for any Latinas (remind me to tell you about how I don't really believe there is such a thing as Latinas or Hispanics, I just use that when it's convenient).

I think she wants to keep Latina authors down, I just know it! I've beaten her on my blog for her racist refusal to tout me and praise me on the air before millions and that bitch just won't listen. My blood boils just to think about it because I, the Reina Dirty, am ENTITLED to this coverage for my achievements. So I wanted to shove my new book, Make Him Feel Good, right in her face and inform her that I, The Reina Dirty, would call her a racist again if she didn't plug my book like I told her to.

I walked up to Oprah. I got my book out. I tried to decide whether I should put it in her hand or yell at her first. I walked up to her, handed it to her from behind, and said, "Read my fucking book!"

Oprah turned around and oh my gosh, it wasn't Oprah. I grabbed my book back because I'm not in the habit of giving any old 'made in China' fake Oprah my shit for free.

Girls, go out and buy my book, I need to beef up the sales on this loser. I'm at 6000 on Amazon now and need to move every unit I can!

Hugs,

Not Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez