My intestines rumble when I think about celebrity unemployment. My pillow is a testament to worry as I punch it nightly. Please let Harvey Weinstein create his magic. Give Angelina 20 million for Salt. God, provide Rachel Uchitel with her own reality show. Today, the Lord listened to my prayers. Harvey's afloat. Angelina can feed her six children. And Rachel Uchitel got 500K for Celebrity Rehab and now won't have to pork Donald Trump. I might watch just to see her injectibles. Okay, I'll really watch for that swaying mess Janice Dickinson. Maybe Dish will play drunk just to get on the show. Oh wait, I have to be famous first.
Lastly, even though I don't always agree with her, I miss seeing Cindy Adams in the Post and hope she returns soon. If she's ill, may she recover swiftly. If she's lost her mind, she's in good company. And if she's out with her cabana boy, Jean-Claude, a souvenir from nude excursions at Hedonism, I hope she parties on.