Be my Yoko Ono

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader has gone over the gossip/celebrity web sites over the past few days and seen the pictures of the dreamy Jennifer Love Hewitt going out and getting her garbage can off the street. Many of the commentators on these photos have pointed out that the lovely, nay! dreamy, Miss Hewitt appears not to be wearing a bra. What they are not commenting upon is the sooper sekrit message she is broadcasting to your Maximum Leader. Here’s the pic:

What the dreamy Miss Hewitt is trying to say to your Maximum Leader is this: “Oh my dreamy and very manly Maximum Leader! I’m wearing this shirt to let you know that I will be your Yoko Ono. Just like the Barenaked Ladies song. You continue to stand by my decision not to pose for Playboy. You are the greatest my Maximum Leader! Call me. Please. Call.”

Photo courtesy of WWTDD.

Never fear Jennifer Love Hewitt… Your Maximum Leader will call. Just e-mail your number again…

Carry on.

9 Comments
Mrs. Peperium said:

*sigh* I never realised the poor dear was this repressed. In 2006, the poor thing is doing a remake of Yoko’s 1971 film, The Fly with her shirt on? What is the avante garde coming to? Basil, help old Maxy out with this.
http://www.scaruffi.com/avant/ono.html (scroll down)



Basil Seal said:

I thought her name was Yucko OhNo…BTW, how in the world would our Mrs. P know about Japanese women sporting about in the all together? Just wondering…



Kevin Kim said:

While I still have aesthetic qualms about Ms. Hewitt’s blast-shielded forehead, I happily grant that she is prodigiously betitted.

Kevin



Mrs. Peperium said:

Hmmn… How do I know about Yucko Ohno. Simple. Growing up my who also lived across the street, father was a muckety-muck at a New York publishing house of some repute or disrepute depending on your philosophical outlook. He loved Yucko and her films, Lady Elton John and Playboy magazine. My friend was only allowed to watch PBS and PBs is very boring. We spent the better part of our afternoons examining her father’s reading material and perusing his music. He was mesmorized by Fly. This dad in question got the golden parachute, and saw the light. He donned his tweed English racing cap and drove his porsche to the Yale Divinity School. He’s now an Episcopal priest.



Mrs. Peperium said:

Somehow the words; my best friend’s didn’t post. It should read : Growing up, my best friend’s, who also lived across the street as well as went to Mackinac Island in the summertime just like dear departed Enoch Soames used to, father…



Heh.



Mrs. P - you fascinate me. Mr P is a very lucky man.



Mr. Peperium said:

Yes, I guess you could say that in the Matrominial Staks I scooped the pot and left all the other punters in the dust. And this, mind you, from a guy whose chances were generally reckoned at about 100 to 8, if that.

I think the secret to my success is that, while Mrs. P is liberally equipped with what is technically known as “Oomph” with all the trimmings, I aimed a little higher and noticed that she also had a brain that was functioning on all 12 cylinders, too. This combination, as you have probably noticed yourself, is rare. Wodehouse’s theory, put forth in numerous volumes, is that Nature in her wisdom seldom grants both beauty and brains together, fearing the mixture might be too rich. It seems about right for me.

Of course, I shouldn’t collar all the credit. After all, it was Mrs. P who took pity on me, descended from the golden cloud she happened to be riding by on, scooped me up and made me the happiest shepard lad since Colin Clout got over that rustic maid whose name escapes me at the moment.



THANKS for running this special photo
of Jennifer Love Hewitt!

Check out my parody song about her…
in the movie MAYOR OF THE SUNSET
STRIP.



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