Kendra Wilkinson met a lot of celebrities during her time as one of Playboy mogul Hugh Hefner's girlfriends — but none were as big as Jennifer Lopez's backside. The interaction happened while the two were at a party. The year-old blonde was too nervous to say hello to Lopez. But she did have a conversation with the famous booty.
All the girls wore pink flannel pyjamas
Playboy orgies sound like the least erotic-thing ever
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R eactions to the death of year-old Hugh Hefner this past week seem to waver between tributes to his pioneering role in the postwar Sexual Revolution—and horror at the consequences of his pioneering role in the Sexual Revolution. My own view of the aforementioned Revolution is that it would have come with or without Hugh Hefner—the wicked 18 th century, after all, succeeded the Puritan Age without the assistance of Playboy —and that Hefner was, at best, a smart financial beneficiary of the changing moods of s America. A symptom, that is, not a cause. There is, however, another way of looking at the founder-impresario of Playboy Enterprises, and that is as a comic figure. It is true, as his various obituaries have explained, that Hefner had the bright journalistic idea, 64 years ago, of marrying what we now call soft-core porn with a semblance of sophistication: Seminude blondes mixed with Gabriel Garcia Marquez short stories and interviews with Bertrand Russell. But to suppose that any of this was of cultural importance is to embrace the mythology that the early Playboy era—or the Eisenhower years, for the politically-minded—was a time of repression and intolerance, which it was not. The s was a period of political, cultural, aesthetic, even sexual, ferment in the world and, once again, the success of Playboy was a symptom of larger forces playing out in literature, society, cinema, politics, and, perhaps especially, in popular culture. Indeed, if Hef and his Playboy Philosophy —there really was such a thing, explained at laborious length in 18 monthly installments of his magazine —had a heyday, it was during the Kennedy, not the Eisenhower, years when "cool" supplanted dignified rectitude as a civic virtue in American life. If your idea of sophistication was the Rat Pack—tuxedoed Frank and Joey Bishop and Sammy having a blast onstage in Vegas—and your aesthetic was the slick atomic-age lines of Danish Modern design, beehive hairdos, and narrow neckties, then Hugh Hefner's Playboy was the journal for you.
A man claims he went to the Playboy Mansion -- and all he got was a "savage" ass kicking. It's all part of a new lawsuit filed against Playboy According to the suit, a guy named Ryan Murphy claims he somehow scored an invite to a Super Bowl party at the Mansion in -- a party where guests were "permitted to consume an endless amount of alcohol without restriction.
