A site of satirical musings, commentary and/or rhetorical criticism of the world at large.

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Location: Southeastern, Pennsylvania, United States

Friday, June 17, 2011

Sympathy for the Bunny Keeper

I feel compelled today to take a break from a world full of strife and conflict. We must turn away from the stories about a resigning Congressman who was unwise enough to send lewd pictures of himself to unsuspecting female political groupies, and look away from two timing regimes that are persecuting the people who led us to Osama Bin Laden. We must close our eyes to mean old Congresspeople who turn their backs on the nutritional needs of the nation’s children, but still allow their agricultural constituents to gorge themselves at the taxpayer subsidized trough of the corporate welfare system. No, today we will distract ourselves on a noble mission of consolation for this country’s oldest connoisseur of female beauty.

Hef, our thoughts are with you today.

This weekend was to be a happy time for our favorite octogenarian playboy. He had planned a wonderful June wedding for himself and his blonde (naturally) love-of-his-life Matilda, or is it Lillian, or is it Patricia, or...just what was her name again? Honestly, Hef, how do you keep them all straight? Do you brand them with tattoos under one of their bountiful mammaries...

Sorry, that was not called for. Let me start again.

Poor Hef! Here is a man who has dedicated nearly sixty years to promoting a certain ideal of female beauty for mankind. Of course, that certain ideal involves firm, nicely shaped breasts (natural or not), long slender legs, very light colored hair, lively expressive eyes, voluptuous full lips, trim waists, well proportioned buttocks, and breeders hips...

Hey, I have to admit something here: I enjoyed writing that last paragraph a little too much for my own good...if you know what I mean. Let’s start again.

Poor Hef! The eternal bon vivant and man about town who has generously shared his discoveries of female pulchritude (a term I first encountered in a Paul McCartney song) with men all over the world. Although he surrounded himself with many fine examples of womanly charm he found and collected over the years, we must wonder if – deep down — Hugh Hefner is a true romantic.

He probably has shared the same vision of romance that many of us have. Hef probably longed to settle down with a pretty, down-to-earth member of the opposite sex. He may have envisioned a life of coming home from the office everyday to a sweet, young girl that dear old Dad would marry, waiting for him at the garden gate. Aw, but the problem is that while dear old Dad may have had a girl at the garden gate, he didn’t have a blonde in every bedroom, brunettes lounging throughout the living areas, and 50 or so assorted females relaxing in the grotto.

Come to think of it, dear old Dad never had a grotto. Maybe that explains why he only ever had one woman. Oh, wait, this is about Hef.

Let’s face reality, Hef! We could tally up all of the women with whom you have had encounters for the last 50 or so years, and we might see a number that make the rest of us males envious, and make the late Wilt Chamberlain (no slouch in the bedroom himself) blush. Dude, you’re a champion for many males! Unfortunately, champions and other geniuses who excel in some aspect of life beyond the feeble accomplishments of us mere mortals, have to sacrifice some part of life for the sake of hyper-achievement.

Your sacrifice is that you may never know the satisfaction that a long term committed relationship can bring. I realize you have had several marriages in your history, but the reality is that they are in your past and not in your present. I also know that this is no consolation. You must realize that there are many others in your situation, and you do have many friends surrounding you that can get you through this heartbreaking crisis. And by friends, I’m not necessarily referring to the harem hanging out in your grotto. You may want to keep company with other guys for the time being to console you.

After a few months, when you feel the time is right, you may want to start dating again. Here’s a suggestion: give older women a chance. They have a lot to offer and they might be able to relate to some of the other values with which your generation grew up. The young chicks have let you down time and time again. Get yourself a cougar, Hef, or perhaps a lion!

What about Betty White? Have you tried calling her up? She’s closer to your age than the vapid, blowsy twenty-somethings bouncing around in your mansion. (I know the vapid characterization hurt, but it’s true. Sorry!) Perhaps Ms. White has been waiting for your phone call. Who knows? Maybe a date with Hugh Hefner is on her bucket list, if she has a bucket list. Go ahead, call and make this old girl’s dream come true!

Good luck Hef! You have devoted a lifetime casting a discerning eye on the finer things this life has to offer - sex, fashion, cars, food — in short, any and everything to which modern man can avail himself. You also displayed an aptitude to discovering and developing the dreams and ambitions of the most beautiful women in the world. This is truly a remarkable talent you have.

Okay, maybe not as remarkable as finding a word that rhymes with pulchritude, but that’s Paul McCartney’s department. You can have the rest.

(Thank you for, the articles of course!)


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