Cancel my appointments
People sometimes reckon that Hugh Hefner has the life. He literally has thousands of women waiting to mount his dead wrinkled sausage. He has also probably already had thousands of women visit the clap clinic after he’s unloaded in them. I reckon if you put his jizz under a microscope it’d be a hilarious site. Millions of tadpoles in pyjamas and smoking jackets at board meetings with pockets full of viagra prescriptions.
I remember seeing a documentary about the Playboy mansion and how Heff chooses his centerfolds and girlfriends. He basically has them all naked in his bedroom and whoever does the filthiest things with him, his wilted winky and the other girls, gets in the magazine. If they refused any of his demands, not only would they not feature in the mag but they’d never even get signed to an agency after that.
Now, you could call him a filthy old pervert. You could say it was exploitation to the enth degree. You could say it was a vulgar display and abuse of power.
And you’d be right on all accounts.
But there’s not a guy who wouldn’t behave the same given the circumstances.
“Oh, so you want to be in my magazine? One of the most popular publications in the world?”
“That sure would be swell Mr Hefner”
“Right, well all you have to do is gargle my balls.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gargle my balls and pin my foreskin shut with this clothes peg”
“But I thought -”
“Ah ah, then you pucker up and syphon Dr Pepper from that blonde’s ass”
“I don’t know”
“You want to be in magazine, right?”
“Of course, it would do so much for my career”
“You know what else would boost your career?”
“What?”
“Wearing that red head like a hockey mask”
“But”
“You want to be a centerfold?”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Sure”
“Wow, this is all too much for a girl from a little town in Ohio to take in. It’s like a dream come true”
“Yeah, sweet dreams baby, now gargle my fucking balls”
Ok so he chows on viagra like they’re wine gums, but he’s still at it the filthy old cunt.
He is my idol. I might just start my own publication and sit back and listen as the sounds of multiple minge’s moisten at the sheer thought of what a couple of polaroids from me could net them.
Having said that, you’d have to put up with some amount of shit.
Heff, famously has “girlfriends”. Three at a time who reside in the mansion. They have their every whim catered to and they get paid $1,000 a week for their troubles. Prostitution? Probably, but a grand a week is cheap by anyone’s standards. And $3,000 a week for three that you can have do whatever you want is like M&S pussy at Lidl prices.
His girlfriends are complete and utter fuckwits though. Each one. Granted they’re not around for the conversation, and it’s just as well. I’ve been watching “Girls of the Playboy Mansion”. Fuck me. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I’d get more of a horn off these chicks if they uttered a word that didn’t concern their hair, make up, waxing, photoshoots or “the stress” of not being able to wear the same outfit twice.
One of them, Kendra, keeps shouting the phrase “Get the fuck out of here” with such faux surprise to what she’s seeing that it makes me wonder how she became a girlfriend in the first place:
“Gargle my balls”
“Get the fuck out of here”
“Gargle my fucking balls, bitch”
“Get the fuck out of here”
“You get the fuck out of here”
“Huh?”
“Get the fuck outta my house you annoying, looks like every other cunt in this place, whore”
“Get the fuck out of here”
“You gonna gargle my balls?”
“Ok fine”
Slag off one of these girls and you immediately get hit with a response that they’re not dumb. That they have PhD’s and degrees and such shit and they’re really intelligent. Personally I’d like to verify their credentials as I suspect they’re about as legitimate as the €8 notes I used to print.
A popular thing for a man to say when he sees a particularly attractive woman is “I’d love to fuck her brains out”.
Sorry Heff, but either you’re going to have to clear your schedule for a while or someone got there before you.
