You may have seen that I had a letter published in the November issue, a point of great pride. However, my favorite part was left out. It read as follows:
Thanks for republishing that "What Kind Of Man Reads Playboy?" ad. It looks very nice framed on my wall. I've gone to bat for the cultural value of Playboy many times. The picture of this swinging cat and lady in tow sums it up: It's for the distinguished gentleman.
Your pal,
Rocko Jerome
You see, Playboy isn't for snickering frat boys or drunk girls gone wild. It's not about making mistakes. It's about making decisions. It's about behaving like an adult. It's also about 138 pages, roughly only 25 or so feature pictures of naked women. The rest are articles about high living and the only insightful, in depth, cut-the-shit interviews that exist in modern publication.
You know the old chestnut routine of some yutz saying "I get it for the articles" followed by a housewife or somebody saying "Yeah, right," cue the laugh track? It's a real dope who is only in it for the pictures. It's 2011 and I can't turn around without tits in my face. Who needs Playboy unless you're going to read it?
I feel dread and consternation for today's youth. The first time I saw an attractive nude woman it was at age 10 and it was in the Playboy that my friend had bogarted away from his pop. I don't recall exactly who the lady in question was, my head was spinning. I just remember there were pages and pages that had to be rifled through full of text that were greek to me. Politics, sports, cooking, clothes, cars, the implication was clear:
This is for adults. When you can read and understand this, you might be able to earn the company of women like this.
I made it, Hef. Thanks for everything.
