I know some of you left Jenny McCarthy behind for various reasons. But at 41, despite being a little cuckoo and now amid the cackling hens on the View, Jenny still has some hotness left in the tank that twenty years ago got her plucked from the line of hot girls trying to get a break in Hollywood to young pinup girl and TV and film blonde bombshell. The sextastic never disappears, it just goes dimmer at times. It’s like the Force or fairies, when you don’t believe in them.
Jenny was in Las Vegas pimping the after party for the Dirty Sexy Funny comedy show. I’m not sure about the funny, but dirty sexy is how I choose to imagine Jenny McCarthy who despite the various incarnations, well, in leather pants I’ll still take her for a fantasy trip up to Makeout and Beyond Point any time. Enjoy.
Now that she’s a member of the elite panel of women I intend to never ever hear from on The View, you may have thought Jenny McCarthy would pull back on her bodily attention getting ways, specifically flashing her best-that-money-can-buy boobtastic at various public events. Well, you were wrong. I was for sure. Because in her very first evening outing since joining the day time talk show, Jenny put her fancy flappers on prime time viewing at the US Weekly party for Fashion Week.
There was a whole lot of Jenny going on, so to speak. Or to stare, or, dare I say, to hose down. But that was for the after party. New show, same old Jenny. This seems like a good thing. Enjoy.
Well, it happens to everyone, if you’re lucky I suppose, veteran blonde bombshell Jenny McCarthy hit the big 4-0 today, but she did not go out of her 30′s meekly, firing up her twin jets of chest flesh last night at the Gallery Club in Vegas as the hostess of their Halloween party. Hey, when you’re a sextastic celebrity, you don’t just celebrate your birthday, you get paid to celebrate it.
For the official record, we must say, Jenny did look mighty fine last night in her mask and skimpy costume. Some would say a muzzle might be an additionally delightful addition to perfecting an evening out with Jenny McCarthy, but I say, then how can I hear her telling me I’m the biggest and the best ever (yes, I live in a dream world, but it’s a pretty fucking fun one).
Happy Birthday, Jenny McCarthy. Keep putting that work of body art on display, we’ll keep watching.