I looked at Yahoo's homepage today while logging in to check how my many, many stacks upon stacks of fan e-mail, when I saw this headline: Star Jones: I Had Gastric Bypass Surgery. I thought to myself, "No sh*t! I thought maybe she just woke up one morning and two thirds of her body weight ran off and took her husband's masculinity with it in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. Next thing you know, they'll be a headline reading 'Al Reynolds Is Quite Gay.' Some things are so obvious, that they don't even need to be confirmed as true."

For the sake of avoiding lawsuits, I'm going to say that I do not actually know if Star Jones's husband likes ding-a-lings or not...but if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's usually safe to assume that it also has a beak and feathers.

Back to Star, I am happy that she is healthy and at peace with her weight after all of the people like me who gave her a hard time about it. A lot of people aren't like me...I don't get embarassed easily. Hell, I'm walking around right now with a Chauncey Billups military moustache because my barber got a little happy with the clippers while shaping it up. I still have the confidence of a black gigolo walking around Spelman University's campus on a spring day. Others let their physical flaws affect their psyche, which is what happened to Star Jones. I'm glad to see that she got through it.

Star, if you're reading this, congratulations on becoming empowered and all that good stuff. Just please...Please...PLEASE...keep your t*tties covered. Gastric bypass is not kind to the busom region. The sight of saggy breasts has a tendency to depress people. It makes one think of the poor and downtrodden. The children on those "Feed the Starving Africans" commercials with flies on their heads. The dogs that moved into Michael Vick's house, thinking "AWW YEAH! I'm up out the 'hood now! A rich n*gga bought me!" only to have those hopes and dreams destroyed.

So please...keep the floppy t*tties covered. Do it for the kids...and the dogs.