Jane Genova: Speechwriter - Ghostwriter

Kirstie Alley at 245 Pounds - How Does This Happen?

Kirstie Alley is now at 245 pounds.  That might be a low estimate.  Clearly something is eating at her.  And if we figure out what that might be we might be able to dodge this bullet ourselves.

Our Eating Disorders - No one, including Aetna, will take away our fun

Those of us with eating disorders shouldn't be at all bullied by the diagnosis that we're mentally ill.  Recently, Aetna agreed to shell out coverage for eating disorders just like any other mental illness.   So ends a federal class-action suit in New Jersey by insured whose policies didn't cover their bulimia or anorexia.  Good for them.  But that has nothing to do with us who have created a solid identity and social network around abusing, misusing and obsessing about food.  We can continue the fun times.  I know.

If Camilla were a working gal, there would be an intervention

The rich have less a chance at sobriety.  That's because there's no Employee Assistance Program to deliver the mandate: Rehab or out.  See, the rich don't need to hang onto a job to keep drinking.  That's the pickle Camilla is in.  She can't or won't stop drinking.  And she's having none of that pressure from the Royals to do so.

The Cursed Wives of Windsor - Camilla's Booze Meltdown

The tabloid reports on Camilla's downward spiral into booze have become more intense, and detailed.  The cover story on the March 17th GLOBE has the headline "Camilla collapses in new BOOZE nightmare."

"Rosie Headed for Rehab, friends fear," NATIONAL EXAMINER

Finally the media are coming down on Rosie.  The headline of the cover of the March 3rd NATIONAL EXAMINER reads: "Rosie Headed for Rehab, friends fear."  Inside, the article by Jeff Samuels quotes a source close to Rosie who opines, "Everyone knows Rosie's drinking is no joke and needs to be seriously addressed."

The question on my mind is: If Rosie weren't a committed mother, unlike Britney, would the media have eaten her up and spit her out already?

Drunken on Love - David Hasselhoff

In two months, David Hasselhoff has been in alcohol rehab four times, once just two days between stays.  Why can't this guy stay sober?  That's obvious for anyone who has experience with the drunks.  Hasselhoff is not allowed to bottom out by those who love him.

Hillary As Inevitable - Ok, Now Promise America a Food-Safety Czar

At some point when John Edwards was claiming that it's too early to declare any candidate As Inevitable and reminded us about Howard Dean's implosion, Hillary passed over to The Inevitable.  It's her election to lose.  She won't lose.  She played everything right, including how to bounce back after setbacks.  Part of the bounce includes her new-found ability to laugh at herself and Dave Letterman's comments about her pants suits.

So, it's time for Hillary to start promising us stuff.  At the top of that promise list is to put in-place a food-safety czar.

Jumping out of cakes for good causes

Cakes, the more decadent the better, were made to jump out of - for money.  Now that gender has blended and sexual-tinged behavior mores have relaxed, anyone can jump out of a cake to raise money for good causes.  To kill off any vestigial taboo about this dynamite fundraiser, the jumps can be begin with our designated humorists such as Dave Letterman and Rosie O'Donnell. 

McDonald's Surge - Digital Chic & More

Just when "they" were writing off McDonald's as an old-economy fathead, the company is surging - on every level.  But this comeback should have been obvious to anyone who's been at McDonald's in the past few months.  Maybe Wall Street financial types don't do Mickey D.  I do.

Joining Britney, Lindsay & Other Fun Folks In Rehab

"I didn't fit in," confessed the 56-year old nurse about her 28 days in rehab.  "Everyone wanted to have fun and I just wanted to get off booze so I could save my job and marriage."  What a waste, I thought.  Ever since my cool acquaintances at work went off to their 28-day heavens in the early 1980s, I've longed to join in the good times.  "It's better than college," my co-worker in D.C. Jennifer had told me.  "Lots of all-nighters but no exams."  Jennifer married someone she met there who, on his night of admission, had pulled the sink out of the wall.  The marriage lasted long enough for her to inherit a pile of money when he committed suicide. Hasn't had to work since.