The ghost whisperer has a big fat ass, and the world just can’t get over it.

Indeed, I will admit it: even I was shocked. And appalled. And rather horrified. And a smidge traumatized. And I shoved just a few rusty nails in my eyes. And, Loretta, I’ve seen some ugly asses in my day. And yet still I must ask, what’s the fuss? What’s the bother? And why is everyone freaking out about Jennifer Love Hewitt’s BIG FAT ASS?

I’m just kidding. I TOTALLY get why. Eww. Really. EWW.

Pictures were recently taken, dear God, and then lamentably released, of Jennifer Love Hewitt’s ass. Wet. In a bathing suit. And Houston, we have a problem. A cottage cheese, mashed potato, flubber, blubber bubble with flab ridges and cellulite canyons problem. 

Words fail.

Wait, no they don’t: It was like a waterbed with acne scaring. Like a giant tapioca pudding. Like a Biggest Loser relapse wrapped in J-ELLO.  Like a beanbag with no hope. Like the saddest sack of flour on the bakery floor. Like a mudslide that lost its edge. And so forth.

And I ask you, what happened? She was so perky, so tiny, so spry! This bitty little WASP, darling as a teacup, waling around with some serious Baby Got Back black girl bootay. That shit just aint right. But still she insists on defending herself:

“I’ve sat by in silence for a long time now about the way women’s bodies are constantly scrutinized. To set the record straight, I’m not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image … Like all women out there should, I love my body.”

The above message appeared on Jennifer’s so-called “blog”, which is either an online journal of some sort or the noise her ass makes when she’s waddling around looking for pie.

In other news: Evel Knievel is dead. He tripped on a toothpick.

Then: Sources so boring my fingers can’t even type their names for fear of falling into a coma report that Reese Withespoon is making the most money of any Hollywood star per picture, but nobody has exactly explained why, because, well, she’s okay I guess, but THE HIGHEST PAID (Julia Roberts must be throwing up—and not for fun this time)? Unless, of course, it’s just extra for dating Jake Gylenhall, in which case I understand completely. The bitch.

Adrian Ryan

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