Let me start right out by acknowledging that I am a man and vigorously apologizing for the sex drive that God has cursed me with. I beseech all women reading this not to hate me, but to hopefully take this as an opportunity to better understand the truly weaker sex.
Jennifer Aniston owns me. Jennifer Aniston continues to own me movie after movie after movie. Jennifer Aniston (though she seemingly comes closer and closer and closer) has never appeared nude in a magazine or a movie.
Doug Stanhope has a fabulous routine about strip joints that hits the mark exactly. A man can be in an adult club surrounded by naked women, and will still do his best to look down the waitress’ blouse as she leans over to serve him a drink, because we want what we cannot see. According to Stanhope, if women walked around every day of the year wearing nothing but gloves (a look I’m in favor of by the way), all of the men in the world would be dying to get a look at their hands.
Now on to Jen.
Jennifer Aniston has appeared in exactly one great movie. That movie was Office Space and though she was fine in it, she was hardly the reason it became a cable blockbuster. I enjoyed Picture Perfect. I suppose she was fine when she made herself ugly (the number one way for a beautiful woman to attempt to get respect for their acting chops) in The Good Girl which, I don’t care what anyone says, was a painfully dreary waste of time. At worst Aniston is completely wasted like she was in Rock Star, where the only reason Mark Wahlberg was credible as a metal head was because Jennifer Aniston was so completely miscast as the girlfriend of a metal head.
Here’s my problem. Jennifer Aniston is the biggest tease in the world, and I know that I’ll never, ever, ever see her naked. Had she pooled her money with Picture Perfect co-star Kevin Bacon in the Madoff Ponzi scheme then maybe I’d have had a chance, but with all that Friends money, I know I’m doomed to continuously watch her in terrible movies fueled by insanely sexy, nearly nude tease shots on the covers of America’s favorite magazines. Every time she has a movie out she’s showing off just enough skin to drive me batty, and she always looks great.
Brad Pitt saw her naked, was fulfilled, and moved on (an epic mistake in my mind). Like Brad, I bet if Aniston posed for, say, some tasteful, arty nudes that I too could move on. But there she is on Friends wearing those incredibly tight sweaters. There she is on the cover of Rolling Stone sort of showing off her naked behind. There she is in Horrible Bosses wearing nothing but an open white lab coat. There I am foaming at the mouth and paying my $10 for horrible movie after horrible movie.
Jen, you’re over 40 and one of the hottest women on the planet, but don’t you know that teasing men leaves us in documented blue pain?
I’d like nothing more than to see Jennifer Aniston in a great movie. Maybe Martin Scorsese will cast her in something. Post-Scorsese, you know that she’d probably be happy to promote the movie in a business suit, but sadly that doesn’t appear anywhere on the horizon.
Jennifer Aniston will continue to be in bad movies (actually Bosses was pretty decent) and continue to promote them with the sexiest non-nude magazine covers in the business and I will continue to be her bitch until she retires with a huge stack of cash and I’m left broke, alone, and frustrated.
C’mon, Jen, stop it. It's just not fair.