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Jenny McCarthy: Sex in the wrong city

Jenny McCarthy's Naked Truth

Jenny McCarthy's Naked Truth

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Updated: July 3, 2012 12:34PM



Ladies, if you have a hard time appreciating your Chicago-style husband or boyfriend, let me share a few words with you that will hopefully make you look at him again with appreciation.

I grew up on the South Side of Chicago and moved to Los Angeles at the ripe age of 21. Most of my 300 relatives and my best friend still reside in Chicago, so I come back to visit my roots quite often. There is no other city in the world that can even come close to what Chicago has to offer, and because of that single women in L.A. find themselves still searching for a meat-and-potatoes kinda guy that doesn’t exist in L.A. In case you’ve found yourself wondering what it would be like to date a celebrity or live in Los Angeles, let me fill you in on a little secret: It stinks.

First of all, to live in a city that thinks Domino’s has great pizza is reason alone to leave immediately. Second, if you think your couch potato, beer-drinking Chicago man is not worthwhile … think again.  I have been on the dating scene for a while now, and time and time again I’m shocked by the weirdness that these L.A. guys exude. The majority of them make girls pay for dinner and then ask their girlfriend to help pay off their credit card debt. It’s almost as if they trade their manhood in for vaginas when they cross the border into California.

To prove my point, I have had numerous L.A. boyfriends ask to borrow my makeup or, even worse, ask my makeup artist to do them after they are done with me. Gross! Who wants to make out with a guy with concealer and blush on his face? Not me. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Jenny, you have clearly dated the wrong type of guys. No kidding! But unless you live in Chicago, a girl has slim pickings. L.A. does not breed down-to-earth men. Even when they become fathers, they send their nannies to their kids’ sports games. Who does that? I’ll tell you who doesn’t do that — Chicago guys. They might show up a little toasted, but they are there in the front row, cheering on their DNA.  I know not all men are perfect, but you have to admit even if you’re married to a Fred Flintstone, it’s way sexier than being with a guy that borrows your mascara. 

So ladies, the next time you’re watching the Academy Awards thinking how sexy it would be to date George Clooney, think again. George probably borrowed his girlfriend’s Spanx.

Jenny McCarthy donated her $1,000 fee for writing this column to Generation Rescue.



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