(
)
Oprah Winfrey did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss King.
It is the truth.
Oprah is the brightest TV star in this universe, a lady who almost single-handedly put the president in the White House and served among Time magazine’s most powerful women of the last century.
Now slouching toward basic cable, like Conan, Oprah denies eyewitness reports that she house-hunted recently in the fine state of New Jersey. Why should we doubt her word?
Oprah wants to make one thing clear: She is absolutely, positively not pining for the female form.
So un-gay is Oprah, she talked to Barbara Walters (and talked, and talked) about the fact that she, Oprah Winfrey, does not swing for the girls team in sensible shoes. She is what she is — regardless of what one’s definition of “is” is.
“I’m not lesbian,” Oprah told Barbara, putting to rest all those pesky and untrue rumors that Oprah does, in fact, pray to the goddess Sappho.
So non-gay is Oprah, she said it again, lest Barbara believe she doth protest too much.
“I’m not even kind of lesbian.”
Glad that’s settled.
Of course, sharing a warm and cozy tent in the lonely woods with her BFF, Gayle King, is no indication that Oprah is, in any way, one of the sapphic sisters.
“She is the mother I never had,” Oprah said of her gal pal, dissolving into tears of sweet, platonic love.
“She is the sister everybody would want. She is the friend everybody deserves,” she sobbed in a decidedly asexual manner.
Few tears were shed in the name of Stedman Graham, the boyfriend Oprah hides from public view for his own protection. Oprah was stunned and amazed and blown away when Barbara informed her that most everyone on the planet thinks she and Stedman split up due to lack of interest.
“You’re kidding me!” she said. “This is a shock to me, Barbara! This is a shock to me!” And she gestured theatrically with her hands, as if to put to rest any questions about her fidelity to Stedman, the partner with whom “I am so glad I didn’t get married.”
So categorically un-gay is Oprah, the folks from the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation — whose media guide warns that the word “homosexual” may be offensive to homosexuals (who knew?) — refused to comment, a first, on the fact that Oprah is, in fact, a member of the straight community.
So unquestionably non-gay is she that Williamson Henderson, 58, founder of the Stonewall Veterans Association — who resisted a 1969 police raid on the Greenwich Village gay bar the Stonewall Inn — chuckled that the silent, heterosexual Stedman “is like a closet straight.”
“It would be nice to have grown up with other gay people to identify with. All we had was Paul Lynde as a center square on ‘Hollywood Squares.’ Gays today think Ellen [DeGeneres] is it. We came out before she did!”
Another group member, Robert, warned that even questioning Oprah’s protests, and Barbara’s nosy questions, is treacherous territory.
“She’s Barbara Walters. She can ask anything she wants,” he said. “She’s Oprah. The same thing applies.”
As an unglued Oprah faces the end of the TV show that made her an international sensation, as she moves from Chicago, the city that made her a superstar beloved from here to Pretoria — as she packs up the car and drives off into the sunset with Gayle, her non-lover — Oprah needs to make one thing perfectly clear:
“I’m not lesbian.”
Do we care? Well, kind of. She is Oprah.
Village idiots don’t get it
Protesters descended on New York University’s Provincetown Playhouse over the weekend, the site where Eugene O’Neill staged his plays. Was NYU plunking a shopping mall or strip club on the spot? Hardly.
The university has lately been slammed as a real-estate Pac-Man as it prepares to expand in Greenwich Village. But this time, NYU did something even local community groups liked — it spent $2 million to preserve the walls of the century-old MacDougal Street playhouse.
And still, protesters are hopping mad that NYU is ripping out the theater’s dilapidated seats.
“Only in Greenwich Village can you make this effort to preserve something historic, and still end up with a protest on your doorstep,” an NYU source said.
And these aren’t even the original seats. Get a life!
The Times they are a . . . sex changin’
Is The New York Times experiencing a sexual-identity crisis?
I’m all for boys wearing lipstick and girls, such as 4-year-old Shiloh Jolie-Pitt — or “John,” as the tyke prefers to be called — donning butch haircuts and conservative neck ties. But in Thursday’s Styles section, the Gray Lady marched boldly from the closet, declaring that “2010 will be remembered as the year of the transsexual.” And I thought this year was just a little confused.
Transgender individuals — folks convinced they were born with the wrong equipment — are hot and proud in the Paper of Record. A search turned up 40 articles (!) over the past year chronicling the challenges and triumphs of transgender humans in sports, modeling, politics and the arts. Actor James Franco, who insists he has no intention of turning into Joan, emerged as the paper’s Tranny of Record, posing for a magazine cover in drag.
Changing one’s God-given sex organs is now officially mainstream. Who knows what agenda the Times will push next.
Bike-nut Bloomy ‘jerks’ us around
“Don’t be a jerk.”
Someone was paid actual money to write that slogan for the city. But the barb is not aimed at subway riders who put smelly feet on seats or at wide-bodied tourists walking five abreast, but at kamikaze bicyclists who threaten pedestrians’ lives daily — a breed incapable of feeling shame.
There is another breed of “jerk” running roughshod over the city. This includes the mayor and high-ranking officials who’ve pushed down our throats hundreds of miles of bike lanes, with more coming each day.
Threatening the lives of people who commute with their feet was once considered a crime. Now, it’s the function of good government.
A bit of jock-ularity
Steve Casko, of Long Island, points out that while former Yankee Jim Leyritz was sentenced to zero time in prison for killing a woman while driving drunk and Met closer Francisco Rodriguez walked free after beating up his girlfriend’s father in public, ex-Giant Plaxico Burress got two years in the can — for shooting himself.
“I guess he got a harsh sentence because he shot an athlete,” wrote Casko.
Bingo!