Playboy’s Miss November 1986, the lovely and talented Donna Edmondson, was named the Playmate of the Year in 1987, fitting given that her high school yearbook predicted she was “Most Likely to Become a Bunny.” (What the hell kind of high school yearbook adviser approves that as a category?!) However, her more lasting claim to fame has been her reknown as The Virgin Playmate.

Photographed by Arny Freytag and Stephen Wayda

She had at least gotten to first base; that was her position on her softball team in high school (rimshot!). Actually, it was, in all seriousness — she played first base for her high school in Greensboro, North Carolina. But back to the more interesting issue. Quite the controversy was sparked by the 20-year-old real estate agent’s vow of virginity, which she discussed in her Playmate interview.

“Men are wonderful, but I haven’t really let one close enough to me that I can talk about sex the way some girls can. Virginity isn’t something you discuss. I’m not ashamed of still having mine, mind you. It’s just not something I really want to talk about — except, of course, with the man who takes it away from me.” (“Sold on Donna,” Playboy, November 1986)

I thought about that when I posed for my layout — imagining the kind of sex I’ll one day have. I don’t know when or where it will happen. But I do know it’ll be with somebody I know and love.”

That’s pretty much all she said, but some fits were pitched and fell back in because of where America was, pornography-wise at this time. Let me bend your ear a tick on this topic, if it is news to you. What Ms. Edmondson accidentally stepped her pretty feet in was a total quagmire of hypocrisy and legal issues which had not much to do with her but plenty to do with the Meese Commission and how entertainment dealt with and tacitly sold the lifestyle of the modern single, the aftermath of the Sexual Revolution including the devastating consequences of HIV, and general assumptions of viewer maturity made by media distribution outlets vis-a-vis sexual morals at that particular juncture. What you had was a total flood of the market with new porn and ever-developing potential technologies for its procurement. So you had morality cops panicking bigtime.

Think about it. There was an explosion of private media possibilities in the 1980’s, and they were readily affordable to Joe Vaseline, which means, no matter where the man of the house stashed them, the chance lurked that Junior, too, would have access. Suddenly you could get porn in a pack of spank-sock’s worth of new forms, an embarassment of riches: direct-to-VHS format, dedicated adult cable channels, and even at the good ol’ liquor store from the more and more competing –and niche– skin magazines all making porn less controlled and more widely sold than ever before. Oh, the heyday! But of course, religion and politics intervened.

Sitcom stars, rock musicians, magazine publishers, freaking everyone was caught by Tipper Gore and Edwin Meese with their dicks in their hands on Capitol Hill, and the religious right was burning Blondie records for moral turpitude. Like, Jesus Jumped-Up Christ-Bananas! That is some ticklish shit to accidentally have come your way! And you’d think they would have all been proud of her …

I will let Ms. Edmondson’s official Playboy biography tell the rest of this interesting story.

The text to my original pictorial announced my virginity — and that created quite a stir. Also at this time, the anti-pornography report of the Meese Commission had prompted all 7-Elevens to pull the magazine from their shelves. I was thrown right in the middle of the scandal! All the talk shows immediately wanted to book the virgin PMOY from the Bible Belt. Joan Rivers made a huge deal out of my virginity on her show, but I just explained that you don’t have to have sex to be sexy.

On Larry King’s show, one caller accused me of not being religious because I let men see my body. But I don’t think that posing in Playboy has anything to do with whether I’m a good person. I knew I wasn’t hurting anyone. I defended myself by saying that God made us nude. We were born that way!

But I don’t regret a single moment. I thought the pictures were beautiful and tasteful, and all the Playboy people treated me very well. It was a great experience that I will never forget.

So how did the story work out for Ms. Edmondson? Seems it worked out smashingly, so in the haters’ faces. Once again, her words:

I took a job as a tax accountant, and on my first day of work I met the man who would become my husband. It was his last day of work; our eyes met, and I just knew he was the one. So I asked HIM out, we had lunch together the next week and we were together from then on.

As for my former claim to fame — as the virgin PMOY — all I can say is: Not anymore! Lots of love to you!

Dig the cover: ironically, Joan Rivers, who gave Ms. Edmondson such “holy hell,” so to speak, over the next several months after this issue was published, was herself profiled in the magazine the very same month. So it’s okay to be interviewed but not to pose? Or is it just for young women, or ones who you perceive as less bright than yourself, that the you-cannot-be-a-role-model-and-be-in-Playboy’s-pages applies? Is it that if a woman wants to be sexy she must want to be sexual? Do you enjoy pointing out hypocrisy only when it is not you, yourself, who is being a hypocrite? Where are the lines in the sand for you, Joanie? Is it not merely the case that you want attention at any cost and have made a career of glomming on to hot button people and topics in order to clutch every possible shred of spotlight in your cruel, manicured claws? Booyakasha!

Sorry, I do not normally take such personal issue with anyone who has appeared on camera with a Muppet, but Joan Rivers literally makes her living by being a mean hag, so screw her. Her career could have been great, she could have been an important special woman in the history of females on television, and she pissed it away to keep the level of fame she was accustomed to, with no integrity. Fuck Joan Rivers.

Anyway, so, Virgin Playmate. Tight, huh!

If a magazine can’t sell advertising, it should probably just throw in the towel.

But after losing $13 million in 2008 to be followed by losing an estimated $8 million this year, Playboy went in a ‘different direction’ contracting with David Pecker’s AMI publishing to sell ads–and essentially outsource all business functions but editorial.

Most magazines have two key revenue streams: advertising and circulation.  Playboy has both and adds a third–licensing of the venerable Playboy name.   But apparently only the licensing part is working (and is not part of the AMI deal).  NY Post media reporter Keith Kelly says Playboy newsstand sales, which once topped 7 million copies per month, have deteriorated to a pathetic 150,000 today.  I’ve written before about Playboy’s incoherent content (and cookie-cutter plastic girls) which hardly makes it a compelling impulse purchase.

Contracting with Pecker’s AMI is no panacea for advertising either.  According to Keith Kelly, Pecker boasts that when Playboy’s total circulation of 1.1 million is combined with that of AMI titles such as Flex, Men’s Fitness and Muscle & Fitness, there will be a combined ad buy of 11 million men in the prized 18-to-35 demographic.  “That’s bigger than the men’s networks of Time Warner, Jann Wenner’s company or Hearst.”

I don’t believe a word of it for three reasons:

1. Flex, Men’s Fitness and Muscle & Fitness have ten million readers?!

2. A more apt display of the work AMI does selling ads can be found in Star and my old rag, The National Enquirer.  If you actually pick up a copy, they’re very low on the quality national ads like the Sonys that Playboy has traditionally had, and high on commemorative plates and catalog crap.

3. The dirty little secret of men’s magazines is that they’re read by old guys like me and Kevin Bacon; the ‘prized 18-to-35 demographic’ is more interested in Call of Duty than ‘call of p***y’ on glossy paper stock.

Soon enough, Pecker will want to take over editorial and do it cheaper with the reporters he has already.  Maybe they’ll sell him the rest of the magazine.

More likely it will go out of business.  The only thing keeping this money-losing relic of the 60’s alive is the fear that killing it will kill Hugh Hefner.

i didn’t see the broadcast of the American Music Awards, but from the stories i have read, Adam Lambert must have put on quite a performance.

More entertaining than the performance has been reading the spin Adam is putting on his actions, as well as his use of a well-worn cliche to justify them.

First, the spin: “It’s just entertainment.” In fact, the Associated Press story quoted him as saying everybody was enjoying his act and they were entertained. The key word is “entertainment;” it’s sort of like Hollywood’s get-out-of-jail-free card. Translation: we can do anything we want, as long as we call it “entertainment.” Then we can protect ourselves and tell everybody who objects to what we have done to lighten up _ after all, it’s just entertainment.

This is the insidious reality undergirding Hugh Hefner’s Playboy empire. The magazine carries the subtitle: “Entertainment for men.” By calling sex and sexual expression a form of entertainment, it makes the indulgence much more palatable in society. Hefner has been very successful is effectuating a massive shift in cultural attitudes toward women appearing naked in his magazine, and appearing nearly naked just about everywhere else.

Sex isn’t anything special, it’s just entertainment.

As for the well-worn cliche Adam has been using lately, i would like to hear a really good explanation of what “Envelope” it is he _ and many others _ seem so compelled to “Push.” His defense of sexually vulgar activity also included a claim that men have not been able to express themselves sexually in their musical performances over the years. i guess he hasn’t listened to much Rock N Roll then.  Or, at the least, he should turn on Mtv to get the picture.

Por:Daniel Monti, Sharlee Trujeque y Hector Ledezma

Bienvenid@s amig@s amantes del Chal telenovelero, del recorte de famosos hoy tenemos muy buena información para todos ustedes así que ¡comenzamos!.

¿Recuerdan a ustedes a aquel tipo que le provocó una megatranquiza a Fabian Lavalle y que destapó una serie de cosas en el medio del espectáculo como prostitución masculina (gay) y drogas?

Bueno “pu’s” el tipo nomás no quiere quedarse en el anonimato y quiere tener otros diez minutos de fama, despues de la quemada social que se buscó, ahora resulta que sacará un libro (si ya sabemos que todo aquel que logra juntas dos hojas con letras se hace llamar escritor) donde revelará con quien tuvo servicios y encuentros sexuales ¡Obviamente entre los famosos!

Uno de los nombres mencionados entre su “macabrona” lista es Ernesto D’alessio, hijo de la Leona Dormida y quien se muestra como gran Cristiano, quien al escuchar dichas declaraciones contesto de esta forma:

“En mi vida lo he visto, y pues si escribe algo de mí, lo tendrá que probar, si es que no quiere pasar más años en la cárcel, ¿no?…”,”…definitivamente no me costaría mandarle otros 20 años más o mandarle a alguien adentro que le ponga otra buena…Los habladores hay en todas partes, nunca falta la gente que quiera venir y rayar tu cuaderno, como cuando eras niño”

Cambiando de tema, ¡que buena comediante es la Chule! despues de mucho tiempo de no tener contacto con la prensa “ni con el vulgo”, Aracely Arámbula se dió una escapadita para poder ir al teatro a ver la obra “Un Amante a la Medida”, muy amable contesto preguntas de los periodistas y demostró que tiene un gran sentido del humor porque se llamo “Actriz amante del escenario Teatral”…¡si no da una como actriz de televisión!…

“A mí me encanta el teatro como a todos los actores, y como actriz, lo hice en Coqueluche; recuerdo mucho esos tiempos y ¡claro que me gustaría volver a hacer esa obra!, quizá más adelante, ahorita estoy concentradísima en la novela, entregada, muy contenta con la producción y con toda esta historia tan linda que conlleva dos personajes. Estoy más que agradecida con Dios”

Es momento de irnos a otro corte comercial, pero ahora se los dejaremos con dos de las mejores caídas en los escenarios para que vean que no solo pasa a nacionales sino tambien a gente de talla internacional como Jennifer Lopèz, pero esto mas adelante con Sharlee Trujeque.

Con Paty se notó la interrupción del Sonido y el golpe en el micro, con Dulce no ¿habrá hecho Playback?…¡no creo!

Bienvenidos a otro recuento de nuestros estrellados favoritos desde el Planeta Hollywood, arrancamos con el viboreo.

De nalgas pero glamorosa…La entrega de los American Music Awards estuvo llena de tropiezos. Durante la presentación, la diva del Bronx Jennifer López sufrió una caída al subir a la espalda de uno de sus bailarines, y aunque se recuperó inmediatamente, seguramente le causó mucho bochorno. La cantante se presentó en el escenario de la premiación, después de varios años de ausencia, para presentar su nuevo sencillo Louboutins. Vestida como boxeadora, JLo subió por la espalda de varios de sus bailarines, cuando al llegar al último de ellos dio un brinco y cayó sobre sus posaderas. Inmediatamente Jennifer se levantó y continuó con su coreografía. En sus ensayos del jueves, se confesó algo nerviosa en una entrevista con la AP. “Uno sabe lo que hace y se siente muy bien al respecto, pero al mismo tiempo no sería humano si no tuviera miedo”, reconoció entre bambalinas.

A naranjazo limpio….El actor británico Jude Law bombardeó con naranjas a un grupo de curiosos que lo espiaban cuando hacía ejercicios en el balcón de su apartamento en Nueva York, informó el viernes el New York Post. El artista, que actualmente representa a Hamlet en una obra de Broadway, apeló a este recurso para disuadir a un grupo de estudiantes de la Universidad de Nueva York cuyo apartamento tiene vista a su refugio en Manhattan. Exasperado, Law les lanzó naranjas a los curiosos, indicó el diario citando a una de los estudiantes, Neha Najeeb. “Falló”, dijo, “pero fue a buscar más”. La segunda vez “alcanzó las ventanas, hubo pulpa de naranja en los vidrios durante una semana”, dijo.

Por goloso y atragantado….El magnate de la revista Playboy, Hugh Hefner, confesó que durante una sesión de sexo salvaje con varias chicas, sus juegos sexuales en una oportunidad lo pusieron al borde de la muerte.
Hefner se atragantó con un juguete sexual, mientras tenía relaciones sexuales con un grupo de mujeres. El magnate pasó un gran susto al poner en peligro su vida. “Eso ha sido lo más cerca que he estado de la muerte. Estaba teniendo sexo con cuatro playmates y casi me asfixio con una bola de Ben Wa” (o bolas chinas, generalmente dos bolas, usadas para dar placer, como una especie de vibrador).

En cine “The twilight saga: New Moon”: Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) después de un suceso desagradable en la casa de los Cullen se siente devastada por la abrupta desaparición de Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson). Pero poco a poco su corazón se recupera gracias a su creciente amistad con el irresistible Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner. Muy pronto se verá atraída al mundo de los hombres lobo, enemigos ancestrales de los vampiros, situación que pondrá a prueba su lealtad.

En fin, amigos, el viboreo y los azotones continuaran hasta la próxima semana.

Ahora vamos con Hector Ledezma desde la Cd. de México.

Y como dice el viejo dicho, El sol sale para todos, pues tómala, que dice mi mamá que siempre no, porque con “El sol no brilla para todos”, libro sobre algunos pasajes de la vida de Luis Miguel, prevé que sacará muchos trapitos, no necesariamente limpios a relucir.

Relaciones amorosas, que obvio incluyen a Aracely Arámbula, y muchos esperamos saber qué onda con su matrimonio arreglado, o si hubo o no un contrato; conflictos familiares, tal vez algo que tenga que ver con Michelle Salas; y datos desconocidos sobre el cantante se revelarán en el texto escrito por Marcos Lifshitz, quien mantiene desde hace seis años una disputa legal contra El Sol.

Lifshitz acusó a Luis Miguel por el plagio del tema Amarte es un placer, del disco del mismo nombre, el compositor ganó el primer fallo y se siente satisfecho por ser reconocido como autor de la canción, la cual les recordamos.

Y muchos hablan de que Capadocia no se llevó nada de los premios Emmy Internacional, pero resalta la nominación de la mexicana Cecilia Suárez dentro de la categoria Mejor Actriz, aceptó que le da gusto estar nominada a este premio, pues reconoce el esfuerzo que ella y toda la gente que participa en la serie ha hecho.

Y es que estos premios reconocen lo mejor de lo hecho fuera de Estados Unidos, por lo que las posibilidades eran buenas, pero la calidad de producciones extranjeras es mucha, sobre todo en países como Argentina y Brasil.

Muchas gracias por estar con nosotros, gracias por sus comentarios, chismes y críticas, estamos por cumplir un año mas de labores y de entregarles lo mejor semana a semana, gracias a quienes hacen posible este blog, gracias Sharlee Trujeque, Gracias Hector Ledezma, Yo Soy Daniel Monti, nos vemos en la próxima. Abur.

Goodbye, Jon and Kate Plus 8!

What do you think of the structured shoulder?

Nick Lachey is employed.

What is Robert Pattinson most afraid of?

Is anyone really shocked by this Hugh Hefner news?

And this is why you should always leave a tip.

Playboy mogul Hugh Hefner has spoken of the time when he nearly died having sex.

The 83-year-old, who is presently dating Crystal Harris and twins Karissa and Kristina Shannon, revealed he choked on a sex toy while between the sheets with some his girlfriends.

“What is the closest I”ve come to death? There was a moment when I was having sex with four Playmates and I almost swallowed a Ben Wa ball,” Contactmusic quoted him as saying.

Hefner further said he prefers to spend spends nearly all his time in bed, adding: “My most treasured possession is my rotating round bed.

“I don”t have dinner parties – I eat my dinner in bed. I relax with my girls in bed, just watching a movie and having a good time. If I had to dress up in fancy dress, I”d wear my pyjamas.”

Check out this great bunny video… 

It has various footage of real bunnies in action and also some faux bunnies from the movie “A bunny girls tale” … can you spot which are real and which are fake?

~ Bunny Victoria

The lovely and talented Avis Miller, Miss November 1970, was living with her parents in Union City and working as a bunny in the San Francisco Playboy club when she was selected by Hef to be an elite Jet Bunny, a stewardess on his famous private plane. I found the interview really interesting, and then I stumbled over a shitload of pictures from her pictorial, so I’m going to let the original Playboy article and spread handle this one.

Photographed by Dwight Hooker

“Now that they have 747s, traveling on the commercial airlines is more luxurious than ever,” says November Playmate Avis Miller. “But as far as I’m concerned, the Big Bunny is the only way to fly.” The Big Bunny, if you don’t already know, is Hugh M. Hefner’s $5,500,000 custom built DC9-32, the most opulent private aircraft in the world. (“Jet Bunny,” Playboy, November 1970.)

“I don’t like living in the heart of a city,” says Avis, “because I get uptight about things like crowds, noise and smog. When I was a kid, my father, a salesman, kept getting transferred — Pittsburgh, Boston, Richmond, Houston. I grew up disliking city life, I’m afraid.”

After accompanying the plane on observation flights, including the Big Bunny’s maiden trip from Chicago to Los Angeles, Avis was scheduled to attend stewardess school in April. A week before her training began, she paid a surprise visit to her brother John, an oil analyst then assaying for possible petroleum deposits near Denver. After acquainting herself with the fundamentals of oil exploration, Avis spent her time loafing, her closest companions the historical best sellers she’d taken with her — Jenny and Mary, Queen of Scots. A graduate of Arizona State University, Avis majored in history and still finds the subject fascinating.

“Stewardesses usually have to train for six weeks,” says Avis, ” but that’s because they have to learn about five different aircraft — we only had to learn about one — and their teaching is slower because the classes usually have at least 50 girls in them. The big airlines also spend a week on grooming, which the Bunnies already know.”

After learning about the DC9-32, Avis took courses in first aid, ocean survival, handling general emergencies and food preparation, then was sent to the Lake Geneva Playboy Club-Hotel for special instruction in wine selection and gourmet dining service. Miss Miller reports that work aboard the Playboy plane is a lot less hectic than on a commercial airliner. “We always have at least three Jet Bunnies on board,” she says, “and since there’s a maximum of 38 passengers, we’re able to go about our duties without rushing.”

When Avis was finally flight-qualified, she got a chance to go on what she describes as “an unbelievable trip”: She was one of five jet Bunnies who accompanied Hefner and a private party of close friends on a 31-day jaunt through Africa and Europe.

That’s so awesome. That is like seriously the trip of a lifetime. Rad. That is so cool that she got to do that.

“The Hollywood scene turns me off completely. To get famous, you have to do a lot of dumb, embarrassing things. Who needs it? Besides, I want to have kids, and the lousiest mothers are usually working actresses; they never have time for their children.”

“I’ll be happy if I can wind up with a guy who’s carefree and isn’t a slave to business. I’ll admit that that type isn’t easy to find, but I haven’t even started looking yet.”

Hef sold the Big Bunny in ‘76 when he bought his mansion in Holmby Hills. It was purchased and used in the late 1970s as part of the commercial fleet of Air Mexico, according to the internet. I have no idea what’s been going on with it since then.

Goliciunea trupului uman a suscitat necontenit interesul general. De la obiectele totemico-falice ale vremurilor străvechi, la artiştii renascentişti şi până la revistele pentru adulţi contemporane, toţi au încercat să scoată în evidenţă părţile ascunse sub straie. Dacă pe moşul Hefner îl putem considera părintele nudismului actual, liderii politici autohtoni post-decembrişti ’89 pot fi suiţi pe cel mai înalt piedestal închinat artei nudismului complet. Aş numi nudism complet inclusiv goliciunea spirituală şi financiară a populaţiei de origine parţial latină, stabilită în limitele statului cunoscut sub numele de România.

În afara învelişului de piele exterior căptuşit de strat adipos şi umplutura organico-sangvină suntem complet goi. De sentimente, pasiune, idealuri, viaţă. Sângele ne curge prin vine doar pentru a-şi îndeplini rolul biologic şi nicidecum pentru a pulsa îndârjirea, dorinţa de a fi noi înşine, de a rămâne deasupra mocirlei denumită trai. Atât ca popor cât şi individual nu am avut multe niciodată. Ni se spunea totuşi, odată, că aveam omenie, bun simţ şi blajinitate în comportament. Nu ştiu dacă sunt virtuţi sau slăbiciuni în lumea mileniului 3, dar deţineam în “proprietate” naţională elemente identificatoare pentru statutul nostru de popor. Acum nu mai avem nimic. Naţionalismul constructiv, mândria, idealurile statale & Co nu sunt nici măcar ultimele pe listă. Nu mai există, darămite să mai capteze atenţie. 

 În 20 de ani am reuşit, cu ajutorul necondiţionat al mai-marilor ţării, să nu mai aspirăm la nimic. Jalnicul suprem derivă din invidia generaţiilor tinere pentru “şansa” părinţilor de a primi fără multă bătaie de cap un acoperiş deasupra capului şi un loc de muncă. Indiferent că majoritatea blocurilor comuniste sunt mai ciuruite ca un şvaiţer iar postul de fochist nu era întocmai visul unui român, fie acesta şi de rând. Măcar era încadrat în clasa muncitoare. Mi se pare incredibil să jinduim la asemenea “realizări” când normalul ne-ar obliga să avem cu totul alte preocupări profesionalo-familiale. Practic, treburile uzuale (casă, masă, automobil, serviciu) s-ar impune ca banale pentru un om banal. Adică licenţiat, serios, isteţ, dornic de muncă, cu familie şi aşa mai departe. Pentru restul treaba devine discutabilă, în funcţie de capacităţi. De la tăietorul de frunză la câini până la patronul cu 25 de vile şi 6 târfe pe seară. Nu mă interesează şi nici nu ar trebui să mă privească acest aspect atâta timp cât mi-aş parcurge trăirea într-un mod civilizat. Ceea ce nu pot numi “chestia” care la câteva ore după încasarea salariului mă lasă cu prea puţini şfanţi în buzunar. De-o tură la supermarket şi apoi ce a da Domnul. Şi ştiu că nu sunt tocmai un ghinionist. Alţii (mulţi) m-ar invidia.

Suntem mai goi decât un voyeur profesionist. Ne hlizim la fazele produse de oamenii cu această dambla, dar nu ne diferenţiem cu nimic. Doar că încercăm să ne ascundem în spatele realităţii şi al hainelor. Indiferent că ne facem cumpărăturile de la Gucci sau de la Dragonul Roşu tot aia e. Singura diferenţă este că unii mai pot petrece o săptămână în Hawaii sau Bora Bora iar alţii la socrii, în Tăutelec. Nici măcar visele nu ne mai ajută, sunt doar coşmaruri.

Suntem goi…

The lovely and talented Monique St. Pierre began her Playboy career as Miss November 1978, but she has gone on to achieve much greater positions within the company.

Photographed by Richard Fegley

A clear case of the carpet not matching the drapes, which for my money is just plain false advertising, but the woman has a very interesting background and is a skilled businessperson so I’m not going to throw too many stones.

My individuality is very important to me. I cannot stand to be dominated and I cannot stand being mediocre at what I’m doing.” Right now, she’s working on being the best model she can be, and she’s studying to be the best actress she can be. “I’ve been studying acting here in Denver, and I love it. I’ve signed with Willhelmina in New York and I’ll be moving there soon. I’m going to find the best New York acting instuctor I can and devote myself to the art until I know I have the ability to take a major role in a play or a movie.” (“Unique Monique,” Playboy, November 1978)

The Wiesbaden, Germany-born Ms. St. Pierre was indeedy represented by Wilhelmina Models at the time of her interview for her appearance as Miss November, but they shitcanned her after this issue went to print. I am surprised by that, given the number of playmates who Wilhelmina has represented before, during, and after Playboy shoots — Stephanie Adams (Miss November 1992), e.g. — so whatever. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Monique came back to Playboy and took a job with the Playboy Channel, which at the time was just starting out. Besides being an executive, she also worked as crew on many of her projects, continued to model and appear in Playboy videos, etc, –even some cameos on “The Girls Next Door”– and, in addition to doing the money-side of production, she also enjoys costume-designing.

One source of Monique’s admirable confidence is hypnosis. “My life last year was moving more quickly than I could handle. I desperately wanted to relax. By coincidence, I met a hypnotherapist, who put me under, then suggested that I wake up feeling calm and refreshed. I stayed under for three hours, just loving the feeling. Then when he brought me out, I felt great. He hypnotized me out of a cold once; just made my fever vanish.”

We wondered if a strong-willed person like herself wasn’t afraid to submit to hypnosis. “Not at all. You really won’t do anything you don’t want to do. As an experiment, the hypnotist suggested I meet him in his hotel room at a certain time. Of course, I didn’t show up.”

Um, I do not claim to be an expert judge of character, but I’m not sure that a hypnotist who suggests “as an experiment” that you meet him in a hotel room is someone you should see again. Just sayin’.

A rare instance of the centerfold being the cover model as well; I can tell from those 70’s-rific suede boots Monique is wearing that the cover photo’s from the same set of shots as the ones in the pictorial. Also, dig the story at the bottom left: “Who Killed Jimmy Hoffa and Why,” with an exclamation point instead of a question mark. Like the top minds at Playboy had solved the mystery and the Feds could now rest easy. Awesome.

With the holidays coming up soon, you may be on the prowl for the best gift for your loved ones. If you follow in the footsteps of the Indianapolis Colts’ Hank Baskett, you may be able to score a Playmate.

Baskett recently purchased a Snuggie for his wife, Kendra Wilkinson. Wilkinson — the former star of The Girls Next Door and current star of her own reality show, and a soon-to-be mother — posted pictures on her Web site of herself wearing the blanket with sleeves (that’s not to be confused with the Slanket, though the Snuggie seems to be the “snuggernaut” of the industry. OK, bad joke.).

“Hank came back from the store yesterday and surprised me with the best present ever…A SNUGGIE!!!” she wrote on her blog.

“I see the commercials all the time and I always want one…it’s so exciting that I have my own now,” she continued. “I think I’m just going to live in this for the next month until lil [sic] Hank is born. I can’t wait to wear my Snuggie when the baby comes so we’re both warm!”

The staple of daytime television and late-night advertisements has become a cult favorite among stay-at-home moms, seniors and college students, and even received an endorsement from the band Weezer.

Could an endorsement from Hugh Hefner’s ex-girlfriend be next for the Snuggie? 54% of voting Predicto Mobile say yes!

See what players had to say about this potential happening!

Will Kendra convince you to put a Snuggie on your wish list? Make sure you visit Predicto.com and registering for the text message-based mobile game that has everyone predicting the outcome of sports, pop culture, news and entertainment events. Along with being able to vote on surveys, including this one, you’ll get updates when the answers are revealed.

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Il fascino della casalinga sexy non delude mai. Così dopo aver conquistato la patinata copertina stelle e strisce, Marge Simpson versione coniglietta di Playboy, arriva anche in Italia. La moglie di Homer Simpson, abbandonato il tubino verde di ordinanza, è apparsa sulla copertina di Playboy America del numero di novembre, già in edicola dal 16 ottobre.

Per celebrare i vent’anni della rivista il suo storico e sempre più arzillo fondatore Hugh Hefner ha deciso di chiedere alla sempre più turchina Marge una posa decisamente osé. Tabù infranto anche per i cartoni animati quindi, anche se da sempre i Simpson si distunguono per essere cartoni animati non certo adattissimi ai piccoli spettatori della tv.

Dopo l’annuncio di Playboy America infatti, anche la versione italiana della rivista sexy ha deciso di pubblicare le immagini in cui Marge “posa” senza veli mostrando un inedito aspetto della sua femminilità. E a “fotografarla” sarà il suo creatore Matt Groening in persona che la immortalerà proprio come LUI l’ha fatta.

Av: Ben Carey och Henrik Delehag
 

Jag fick den här boken av min kära svåger.  Och jag skrattar lika högt varje gång jag bläddrar i den. För varje siffra du fyller har denna bok svaret på vad du ska göra under just det året.
Jag valde ut godbitarna åt Er:

Förra året, då jag var 23, var alltså det år då jag borde passat på att slampa runt. Hmm…

Om ca 2 år och 2 mån är det dags för mig att hitta min drömprins. Tur att jag har lite tid på mig!

År 2015, när jag fyller 30, är det alltså dags att bli på smällen. Skönt att veta, då skriver jag in det i kalendern redan i dag!

När jag fyller 43 har jag tydligen tröttnat på min Brad Pitt till man och är sugen på nya sexuella upplevelser. Det gäller att hitta en kille som går med på swinging då med andra ord…

När Han med stort H fyllt 53 överger han mig och sängen för intimare stunder med små vita bollar. What the fuck?!?

Nä, nu blev jag allt lite ledsen. Vem vill bli dissad för en runda golf? Kanske dags för mig att hooka upp med Hugh Hefner i stället, då lär jag i alla fall slippa knalla omkring på golfbanor…eller vad tror ni?

Vad tyckte du om inlägget? Sätt betyg:

Like Joni Mattis (Miss November 1960), the lovely and talented Avis Kimble, Playboy’s Miss November 1962, hailed from Hef’s hometown of Chicago.

Photography by Jon Pownall

Body by ballpark hotdogs. Attagirl. This is the first Miss November that I have to say I doubt would go to print for Playboy today. She’s not even remotely fat … she’s just maybe too genuine? I don’t know.

I’m not criticizing her, and I’m not criticizing the magazine today, and this is not some generic predictable commentary on modern ideals of beauty. I just think from the commercial end of it, the talent scouts, they have trained their eyes to see a certain type of beauty, and I’m not sure that 5′5″ and a certain ectomorphic roundness would register. The boobs would. I’m sure of that. But … I don’t know. I’d love to be wrong.

In fact, I might be wrong, which is really heartening. It seems from reading her blurb that she was picked especially because she was different from the usual West Coast bunny, and I can’t jump to the conclusion that that would never happen today. I could be totally wrong and that philosophy of finding the unique and the special may still prevail; I mean, look at Stephanie Adams or Grace Kim, who I’ve highlighted in past weeks.

And the Playboy sez:

Rara Avis

November Playmate Avis Kimble is a well-constructed nonconformist

While Chicago is touted as a convention city, we’ve always found its unconventional side much more interesting — especially as personified by an eye-catching iconoclast like Avis Kimble, our bountiful bohemian November Playmate. Auburn-haired Avis, a Windy City citizen by birth and inclination is artistic both in temperament and topography (39-22-36); she paints striking water colors and oils, is a budding ballet dancer and a poetess who happily celebrates self-expression in lieu of carbon-copy conformity.

Blessed with catholic tastes, our 18-year-old maverick miss gets a boot from square-dealing artist Piet Mondrian, movie director Ingmar Bergman and the rich prose of novelist Ayn Rand; she gulps vast quantities of artichokes for lunch, will lend her ear at any hour to Chopin or Odetta, loves to wear Italian knit dresses, long gloves and floppy Greta Garbo hats, and digs dating unpretentious guys who don’t knock themselves out trying to impress her with their wealth and wisdom.

More upbeat than beat, Avis is sensibly stashing away her earnings as a photographer’s stylist (she sets up props, puts makeup on models, helps with photo composition) to pay for courses at Chicago’s Art Institute, and has her beguiling blue eyes firmly focused on a career as a fashion designer. For a design that will never go out of fashion, flip to the foldout where our poetry buff relaxes by scanning a choice collection of lyrical lines. We suggest that you do the same. (Playboy, November 1962.)

Ayn Rand?! Maybe she just read it so she had someone to get mad at. Like me watching a Dodgers game so I can continue to yell at Manny Ramirez.

Final thought — the wiki sez: “She was one of the Editors’ choices for the top ten Playmates of all time during Playboy’s ten year anniversary celebration. She did not make the top ten list when the readers’ top ten was voted on.”

So maybe it’s the readers and not the magazine. Content and consumer demand: they have an intricate relationship. You get the porn you think you deserve? Does that make sense? Chew on that. Let me know.

Der Playboy-Konzern um das gleichnamige traditionsreiche Männermagazin (Print & Online) hat offenbar Verkaufsverhandlungen mit der US-Markenmanagementfirma Iconix Brand Group aufgenommen.

Angesichts eines immer tieferen Finanzlochs hatte das Unternehmen um Erotik-Guru Hugh Hefner bereits zu Jahresbeginn bekannt gegeben, über einen Verkauf nachzudenken. Die Börse reagierte mit einer Kursexplosion und bescherte Playboy-Investoren ein Plus von rund 42 Prozent. “Der Playboy von morgen kann nicht mehr der Playboy von heute sein”, meint Volker Nickel, Sprecher des Zentralverbands der deutschen Werbewirtschaft.

The lovely and talented Joan E. Mattis, aka Joni Mattis, Playboy’s Miss November 1960, is noteworthy in the history of the magazine for several things.

First, she was Hugh Hefner’s lover for awhile and also worked for the company for a long time (not so unusual). Not so usually, second, she refused to bare it all for her shoot. You can see from the pictures that, though she was technically nude, she kept specific ladyparts covered by a strategically placed sheet.

During her Playboy photo session, Mattis refused to disrobe, making her (according to her) the least popular Playmate in the history of the magazine. She only received one letter in response to her pictorial, and it was from a clergyman who suggested that she find another line of work. ( the wiki)

From the magazine’s official site:

For nearly four decades, until her untimely death in 1999, another sweetheart of the period, November 1960 Playmate Joni Mattis, was frequently at Hef’s side.

“Our romantic relationship didn’t last very long,” Hef says, “but the friendship did.” Joni was a talent coordinator for his first TV show, Playboy’s Penthouse, an early Playboy Club Bunny, Hef’s West Coast Secretary and, finally, Social Secretary at Mansion West.

With her dark hair and luminous eyes, Joni looked like a porcelain doll, but she had spunk. On one occasion, she not-so-accidentally nudged a potential rival for Hef’s affections, fully clothed in a crepe cocktail dress, into the Chicago Mansion’s swimming pool. The dress immediately shrank. (“Hef’s Special Ladies: Joni Mattis.” Playboy.com)

Fun fact: she was a pocket rocket. 5′2″ and 85 lbs at the time of the shoot, when she was — oh, ho! Looky there. The Playboy stats sheet says, “Unfortunately, this data sheet was incomplete.” No age, ambitions, turn-ons … nothing but the pictures and the raw numbers of her measurements. The total woman of mystery. I guess it was between her and Hef, a couple of crazy Chicago kids in love and running a tasteful skin empire.

Joan died of cancer September 4, 1999. She was only 61.

Ready to see this guy's hockey stick?

Are you getting pumped about Levi Johnston’s upcoming full-frontal spread in Playgirl?

Wait, what’s that? You just threw up in your mouth a little?

Levi might be conventionally attractive, but his status as Bristol Palin’s baby-daddy, Jon Gosselin’s new buddy – Michael Lohan must be green with envy – and an all-around jerk (in response to New York Magazine asking him how he was adjusting to life in the Big Apple, Levi said, “I run this city. It ain’t no thang.” UGH) means that we’re less than excited about the idea of having naked pictures of this asshat plastered all over the internet next week.

After giving the matter some thought, we realized that there are actually only five guys that we’d be even more opposed to seeing in their birthday suits. Read the list if you dare—the thought of these dudes naked might just make you shudder.

We're fine not knowing if his shag carpet matches that dust ruffle on his chin.

Jonah Hill
Don’t get us wrong: Jonah Hill is totally hilarious, whether he’s riffing with his buddies from the Judd Apatow School of Awesome or slumming it in “Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian.” That said, we do not want to see his wang. Ever.

It just feels so wrong..

A Jonas Brother

Seeing any of these three without a regulation skinny tie and a nonthreatening-yet-slightly-edgy pair of pants would just weird us out, no matter how convincingly they croon about wanting to hold a girl’s hand or whatever. It would be like seeing a creepy version of Mickey Mouse wandering through a post-apocalyptic Disney Land.

Thanks to his meggings, we already know what this guy is packing.

Russell Brand

The nasty, matted, greasy hair. The unsettlingly skinny body. The meggings. Russell is a dead ringer for Jack Skellington, and that is so not attractive. Have fun, Katy Perry—then again, maybe you two deserve each other.

Barf. Here comes my $5 footlong...

Perez

No. No. NO.

Does that look like the face of someone with a bangin' bod?

Hugh Hefner

It’s kind of ironic that the guy who started the Playboy empire is the last dude that we’d ever, ever want to see in the buff. The soft-core entrepreneur is 83 years old, which makes him 63 years older than his current “girlfriends,” identical twins Kristina and Karissa Shannon. They might not mind running their hands over his loose wrinkles, but we do. Ew. There aren’t even words to describe how wrong that is.

Made it to the end of this psychologically scarring list? Congratulations—you deserve a prize. Here’s a picture of James Franco looking adorable. You’re welcome.

This is a bunny costume sold by Playboy and is modeled by 2007 PMOY Sara Jean Underwood.

~

With the bunny costume being the icon that it is many have tried to get their hands on the real thing.
But since that will cost thousands of dollars for a really good copy (that really shouldn’t be worn due to its collectible nature) most end up looking for a good-looking replica and the truth is… there aren’t any.

Most of the stuff that comes up when searching for a “Playboy bunny costume” is cheap and tacky, which works on its own but when compared to the original thing comes nowhere close.
Your best bet, if you want to be a Playboy bunny for Halloween, is to make your own costume.

Even the costume Playboy is currently selling can be found elsewhere online, cheaper…

3wishes.com is an alternate source for "Playboy's" costume

 … It is surprising since Playboy has their own line of costumes.

So the question remains.

Since the demand for bunny costumes is so high, why doesn’t Playboy use it to their advantage?

It is surely understandable that they don’t want to sell exact replicas of their original design but something that is based on it , looks like it and has the Playboy name on it would surely sell in truckloads…

No?

 ~ Bunny Victoria

Grab the pillows ya’ll it’s about to get UGLAY in Bunny Land.

Holly Madison RECENTLY unleashed some pent up tension in regards to the husband that never was  Hef’s NEW girlfriends, those two trailer park lookin twins and Crystal something or the other.

“I had a great time with Hef and the girls when they came to see ‘Peepshow’ and hang out in Vegas. I don’t watch the other episodes though, because it kind of makes me mad. The girls need to focus on what makes them unique and not doing the same things Bridget, Kendra and I have already done on the show.

“Even camping in the backyard was an idea I had for an episode that we never got around to shooting. And guess what they just showed? The girls camping in the backyard. I don’t want to look behind, I want to look forward.”

Really though, I must say Holly was the “brains” behind the show, although it sounds ABSURD using brains and Playboy bunnies in the same posting. She DID actually run most of the photoshoots and obviously made sure that Kendra refrained from dowing mohitos at breakfast.

AND with Kendra married and nesting, and Bridget, well, I don’t really know what she’s doing, Holly at least seems to be persisting and using those $$$ ta tas to her advantage via her entertainment career.

“The biggest challenge I have had to face is sticking by who I am and what I want to do. There have been a lot of people trying to push me in different directions, but I had to stay true to my vision of what I wanted to do and how I wanted to brand myself as an entertainer. I can’t be another LA reality show girl. There are too many people doing the same thing in that city.”

You hear that Audrina? Screw the show, you’re best suited for the likes of topless dancing along with Aubrey O Day.

Thatta girl.

Playboy magazine is facing some hard times. According to the company CEO the magazine will have to take “bold steps” to make ends meet. It appears the magazine has been facing profit losses for a while now. As I read this I thought: “How times have changed.” Playboy magazine debuted in 1953 with a Marilyn Monroe photo spread, which irreversibly altered the lives of both Monroe and magazine founder Hugh Hefner. Upon reading about Playboy’s misfortunes, I couldn’t help but wonder: “What the hell could be bolder than Playboy magazine?” Nakedness is ALWAYS controversial.

It appears Playboy enterprises was referring to something completely different when they spoke of  taking “bold steps.” Mediaweek reports that the company will cut its guaranteed circulation by 38% beginning January 2010 and that it will combine its January and February issues. The company hopes these moves will help it save money… but, it’s not all about saving money; it’s about MAKING money. How does Playboy plan to do that? You might ask. Well, the CEO says the company is looking into print-digital combo sales, social networking, and mobile partnerships to get things started. Do you think this’ll work? I don’t. My reasoning is as follows: Playboy magazine was a tremendous success for such a long time because it gave people (men in particular) the opportunity to see racy images of beautiful women that they could not find anywhere else.  The internet has changed this. Now, racy images of both women and men are only a click away. The internet can provide an endless supply of not only soft-core but hard-corn pornography for FREE; something which Playboy magazine will never be able to do. Playboy magazine can provide readers with pictures for a fee; the internet can provide users with not only pictures, but video of people performing sexual acts for free.  There is no point of comparison. Then again, the magazine has survived this long, so who knows?

Ladies and gentlemen, Playboy is happy to present the lovely and talented model, small screen actress, and Gene Simmons’ longtime ladyfriend in the Service of Satan, Shannon Tweed – Miss November, 1981.

The former Miss Ottawa Valley won Playmate of the Year in ‘82 and even lived with Hef for awhile before hooking up with Gene Simmons, KISS lead vocalist and noted tonguing enthusiast. Unlike most Playmate-rock star hookups, the two seem to have found lasting love, which I think pretty much should never be criticized. Tweed has said of their twenty-seven year monogamous relationship, “He opted never to marry. I opted not to bitch about it.” Seems fair enough to me. That lil blonde Canuck cookie is smarter than she looks, eh?

I just think it is really, really cute that there was a time in North America when we hadn’t all seen Shannon Tweed naked yet.

Almost as cute as how the butt-crack is tastefully blurred in these screencaps. Awww. Thanks for preserving the modesty and integrity of the original photoshoot. That was the one thing that would’ve made these pictures absolute smut, you know? Tea and crumpets! Thank goodness for the censor’s loving hand.

I mean, being into high-brow cinema, I’ve naturally seen a few (merely a scant several, at most) of Shannon Tweed’s intellectual and plot-driven films, but I watch them for the snappy dialogue and well-crafted intrigue. Naturally, I look away in shock during the rare, rare, rare scenes of dishevelment.

“Oh, yeah, I do movies; I forgot. They see them on TV. I forget that anybody knows me. ” — Shannon Tweed

Fun fact: my parents and I went to Ms. Tweed’s early silver screen smash hit Hot Dog the Movie! in the theater. (Tagline: “Taste the sauce … in Hot Dog!“) My dad frog-marched me and my mom out of there after less than half an hour. It was the first time I’d ever walked out of a movie, and I found the power of the experience heady. Like, “Hey, put-upon middle manager at the box office, you expected us to stay in that movie, but we totally did not! And we want to see something else, ’cause that thing was crap!”

I looked forward to someday doing something like that myself, but did not find cause to repeat the event on my own until I saw the live-action How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I felt like the absolute king of the universe when I indignantly stalked out of that piece of grotesque, shrill, memory-raping garbage. And as I stood in the lobby deciding what to watch instead, I remembered the feeling of trespass-mixed-with-righteousness that I had when my father hauled us out of Hot Dog. Thanks, Daddy. You are a huge role model.

Before and After “the incident.”*

*There was no incident. Just cheap ’80s plastic surgery. Sick, sad burn.

Because she hella cares about the earth, Shannon Tweed is now made from 85% post-consumer recyclable parts. Did You Know?

Ladies and gentleman, your Playboy Miss November 1959 — the lovely and talented Donna Lynn. (applause.)

As far as I know the whole shoot was photographed by Frank Bez.

As you can see, Playboy was starting to get their shit together and have a strong budget by this point, enough not to cobble together hack photographers and shitty sets in eight different crummy apartments to put together a single spread. Consistency is important for the overall feel of a shoot. These look like they were all done around the same place, a nice spread of house with a good-sized backyard in some smoggy shithole suburb of L.A.

Art direction was actually beginning to play a part in the magazine’s design and composition. Sex sells. Slickly packaged sex sells better, and for more.

I find it just so unforgivably rude when people screw around on the phone when you are trying to have an in-person social conversation.

Miss Lynn was like bazillions of buxom blondes, a pretty girl who made her way from the midwest to Los Angeles with dreams of being a star. She must have had a smidge of tinfoil and gritty hustle behind that vacuous smile, because she came closer than most, landing not just a plush job and a centerfold spot, but a movie part from a big name, too. The Playboy sez:

Cocktail Waitress on the Sunset Strip
In Hollywood even the girls who wait tables are beautiful!

It is news to nobody that Hollywood is the cutie capital of the country, racking up more shapeliness per square inch — or maybe we mean round inch — than any other city in the nation, probably the world. To its sun-drenched purlieus swarm America’s loveliest lasses, all eager for film and TV stardom. Of course, stardom doesn’t usually come overnight and while they’re waiting the hopeful honeys take jobs as waitresses and car hops, cashiers and receptionists — which accounts for the high degree of pulchritude among Hollywood’s hired help. Even in such a splendorous setting, blonde Donna Lynn is a standout. As a waitress, she brightens The Cloister, a smart supper club on Hollywood’s famous Sunset Strip. There recently Mickey Rooney spotted her and signed her up for a part in his new motion picture The Private Lives of Adam and Eve. There recently we spotted her, too, and decided she was just what we’d been seeking for Miss November.

In the imdb’s cast list for the 1960 Rooney flop (guess it must have been one of the ones he drank his way through), she is credited as “Wednesday,” along with several other cast members named for days of the week. Her next part is listed, bizarrely, as “10 year old girl” a decade later on a 1971 episode of The Partridge Family, which I’m going to chalk up to a mistake.

Tan lines are like highlights for what you are not ordinarily allowed to see. Ladies, STOP laying in the booths naked. Way more hot to be stripey.

In fact, the credits her file at imdb lists from that point really take a nosedive in believable accuracy, so I’m assuming there was some kind of huge mistake in identity, because I seriously doubt that in 1981, having been born in 1936, she was in any shape to play “Kiki” in Hollywood High II (“It’s the end of the semester and finals are near, but that doesn’t stop the girls of Hollywood High from having fun. From the pool to the beach, they cavort with their boyfriends, drink, and smoke a joint or two!”). Her final alleged credit is 1988’s Hollywood’s New Blood, a horror film about which one imdb user commented, “A nursery school pageant is more professional.”

Malibu? Laguna?

Here she is, back in 1959 where we can be sure it was she, and reasonably clad to boot, washing a pretty freaking sweet indeedy Renault Dauphine; they did not always make teeny cars built to demolish one another jostling for parking on the streets of Paris. Even the French automaking industry was in the post-WWII car manufacturing heyday a decophilic slave to the beautiful trappings of finned and glorious car architecture.

Marvel of design. Car’s okay, too.

Hef & Co. were also very concerned with the physiology of sleep and how well you were resting, evinced by the cover theme. (That bunny looks twisted. Dude is toe up. I hate when people get animals drunk!)