Note to our readers: You are strongly cautioned not to read Noah Davis’ column today on comely Hollywood superstar Jennifer Lopez with its ridiculous idea that Davis could even get within the same state as Ms. Lopez, who’d sooner perform her own root canal than look at him.
Davis’ editor begged him not to write this column and make a fool of himself with his pathetic slobbering.
Dear Jennifer Lopez:
I happened to be walking by a magazine rack the other day and I couldn’t help but notice that you’re on the cover of Stuff magazine. I also couldn’t help but notice that on this cover you failed to put clothes on. An oversight, I’m sure. I sometimes rush out the door and forget to put on my pants. Who can remember everything?
Jennifer, you just completed filming a movie with ER‘s Noah Wyle, you have a double platinum album, you have your own clothing line, and a TV series based on your childhood is in development. You’re hotter than South Florida in August.
My point is, Jennifer, this is your world.
I’d like to be a part of it.
Can you ditch that pale, dorky-looking dancer guy?
I suspect that I am too old for you, too bald for you and too poor for you. Sigh. You say your “love don’t cost a thing,” but I don’t think you really mean that.
On the cover of Stuff, Jennifer is wearing what appears to be pink, ruffled panties. That’s it. At the 2000 Grammy Awards she wore a sheer, see-through dress, which defied gravity (and the desire of men everywhere) by staying on. At the 2001 Academy Awards her dress top was sheerer and thinner than Condit’s “alibi.” Can you see the pattern here?
Jennifer is giving new meaning to the phrase “Dress: Optional.”
What I admire most is that she says she’s somewhat inhibited. Absolutely! If she weren’t inhibited, she’d be naked on the cover of those How to Consolidate Your Debt pamphlets.
But she is a beauty.
And she is very smart. I sense great depth behind her eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has rare insight into the risks and rewards of NAFTA.
Oh, please, Noah. You’re just saying she’s smart to justify your juvenile lust. The truth is, you wouldn’t care if she couldn’t name three fruits and vegetables that begin with the letter A.
I’ve read all the magazine pieces that pay homage to her beauty.
Yeah, “read,” right.
Well, okay, maybe “read” isn’t the precise word. I may have glanced at a word or two while I was trying to absorb the photos through my large pores. You wanna make something of it?
But I read enough to notice that the writers struggled to come up with a perfect word or phrase to indelibly describe how beautiful Jennifer Lopez is. I’ve been a professional writer for two, maybe three months now–so don’t try this without a safety net–and here is the phrase I’ve come up with to describe Jennifer Lopez’s looks: “Better than mine.” Her looks are to my looks what General Motors is to Kit’s Poodle Grooming.
Even women think she’s a hottie.
Here is my Jennifer Lopez fantasy:
We casually meet in some swanky, upscale bar. She does not immediately call security.
She falls hopelessly in love with me because I am witty, sensitive, urbane, understated and my friends call me “Spike.” Also, I can spell “wildebeest” and use it in a sentence.
Jennifer and I stay together forever, or until she needs an eye tuck and tummy liposuction, and I dump her for a 23-year-old supermodel named Giselle.
Noah, you’re poor. Your bank account is emptier than your head. Jennifer Lopez has fame, money, fortune, money, Cris Judd, and more money. They appear at every Hollywood premiere holding hands and kissing. Jennifer wouldn’t allow her pet LLAMA to kiss you. Your fantasy is beyond insane. It’s typical of the shallow, appearance-based relationships that men strive for. It’s pathetic you even think about Jennifer Lopez.
Is Shannon Elizabeth appearing on any magazine covers soon?