I was making my long and tedious drive to work this morning and between all the cars in front of me and the glorious view that the 10 freeway offers of industrial Los Angeles I spotted a digital billboard that I seem to pass all the time but only fully took notice of today, frankly because it had a huge photo of Dr. Oz, another one of Oprah’s prodigy, and flashing text telling me to watch the Dr. Oz show. That’s happening LIVE. RIGHT NOW.

Dude. I’m driving. You’re a billboard over a freeway, you should know this. What do you want me to do, make a break for the nearest exit, sit in more traffic until I arrive home, pour myself another cup of tea and wait for Dr. Oz to come on and tell me about erectile dysfunction and heart burn?

WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, BILLBOARD.

No, as much as I’d like to turn around I can’t. As much as I want to take part in your graduation from Oprah’s stage to your own, I don’t have the time. You should know this, you’re a billboard.

And frankly, if I was going to turn around and go home, you better believe I’d be tuning into the  hot mess that is the Maury Povich show. I cannot afford to miss a “You are NOT the Father!” proclamation because Dr. Oz wants to teach  me about hypertension. No way. I have my priorities straightened out, as you can tell.

But, seriously billboard – I don’t take too kindly to your shenanigans and I’m sure the thousands of cars around me don’t either, what in between spewing out colorful language with their windows rolled up, mind you, to the motorcyclists that zoom by windows (they deserve it) and trying their hardest not to drive their vehicles off a cliff because they just. can’t. take. it. anymore.

And you know what else? Just WTF are you doing on a freeway anyway? I mean, am I not meant to be looking straight ahead so I don’t become a Los Angeles casualty instead of looking at you? Why do you tempt me with your smooth LCD display and blinding neon graphics. Why must you call out to me with a dapper looking Dr. Oz in a  sexy lab coat and elvine ears.  DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE?