You have to wonder if the reason Scott Brown got elected in Massachusetts was due to the fact he posed in Cosmopolitan years ago.
I expect that his opponents got wind of the splashy nude spread and plastered it around Mass (the State) to tarnish his political image.
But, instead of turning voters against him, the revelation boomeranged in his lusty favor as voters turned out in droves to cast their ballots.
Today, folks (male & female) are gazing on his studly bod and giving a thumbs up!
Wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers, eh?
The silver temples underscore Brown's a dignified mature man in control of his - um - faculties!
Unlike yesterday - where musical beds were the campus sport - I surmise that dinner and a fine glass of vintage wine amount to foreplay in his post frat boy stage.
Burt Reynolds, the first high-profile (straight?) celebrity to sprawl out on a bearskin rug by a roaring fire with a come hither look, understood the importance of sizzling exposure here and there now and then.
Just ask Dinah, darlink!
And, the million or so bucks Cosmos forks over to get down 'n dirty in the buff, is nothing to sniff at.
In fact, Brown confessed he did the strip tease cause he needed intuition for college.
Not as clever as Marilyn Monroe's quip when it was learned she (OMG!) tossed off her frilly underthings to pose for a series of titillating publicity stills.
As the news broke about the potentially-raunchy cheesecake, there were a couple of tense moments for Marilyn, when she found herself cornered by a frenzied posse of paparazzi chomping at the bit for all the tawdry details.
When reporters quizzed her pointedly about what she had "on" when the photographer snapped away, without batting a luscious eyelash she coquettishly purred:
"The radio."
One wrong word and her dazzling legit career would have been in shambles; instead, her quick wit and delicious sense of humor saved her from the brink of disaster.
Consequently, her reach for the brass ring soared to greater heights.
Instead of being flogged in the backrooms of sleazy all-night bookstores in a plain brown wrapper, the photos were snapped up to grace the pages of a quality calendar which is a pricey collector's item today.
Brown?
I expect he'll be pumping the fleshy bejwelled hands of politician's wives on the campaign trail.
The charismatic opportunist with the healthy libido may even sign a jaunty autograph across his bare chest (or elsewhere for kicks).
By the way, a strageticaly-placed hand teasingly hides his "Johnson" in the lay-out.
To fit all his manhood in, required a two-pager feature, with strict adherance to strategic positioning.
On that note, do 'ya suppose the man-of-the-hour is into the missionary or doggie-style?
The editors have coined a few slogans for his next political campaign, by the way.
*Who Needs Joe Plumber When You Can Have Scott Six-Pack?*Scott Brown: A Name You Can Trust, Abs You Can Believe In*Vote for Brown. He Has One Hell of a Stimulus PackageIf he makes it to the White House, some underage page (in a pretty frock and bright red lipstick) just may find out up-close and personal.
