Hey, folks, this is Hef's new fiance! (hint: he's 84 & she's 24) There ain't no justice in the world!!
Crystal Harris was the Playboy Playmate of the Month for December 2009. She was born in Arizona, but grew up in San Diego; so maybe it's something in the water out there. I mean come ON, even if your ticket to celebrity status requires you to sleep with an octogenarian, why in the hell would a chick with her assets choose to opt out of the dating pool already - in her sultry prime - for a drooling codger, who has long gone on record as relying on Viagra to get his business done, and when in all probability every other male celebrity lounging around the pool at the Playboy Mansion is likely interested?
No, it doesn't make sense. Even for a mountain of cash, and a bacchanalia-infused lifestyle at the all-you-can-squeeze buffet.
In fact, the line of hotties who've been willing to get into the sack with Mr. Hefner grew extremely creepy way back when he hit his sixties, but "eighty-four" years old, and this perpetually juvenile delinquent still can't make a love connection with a more age-appropriate woman? By the way, Hefner turned sixty the year that his new fiance was actually born. [That's so sexy isn't it? Yucky!] This from the man who divorced former Playmate of the Year (1989) Kimberley Conrad in March 2010. Yeah, I know that they had been separated for more than a decade, but heck, she lived right next door to him and at forty-eight, she remains very striking. For shits & giggles, let's just ignore the group of dim bulbs who've parlayed their own roll in the hay experiences with the famous fossil into media careers based on the "The Girls Next Door" reality ("ha") cable series.
Listen, I'm a "having his cake and eating it too" kind of guy myself, but this news is way beyond ridiculous. The pile of evidence that an army of Playmates really is that stupid gets larger, no matter how hot they appear to be. Oh well, it is good enough to earn Crystal a quick mention as the last "Gal" Friday of 2010.
I wouldn't know what to do with a hot twenty-four year old, if I got one, mate. seriously, all that goes through my head when I meet fit young birds these days is, " I'm old enough to be your dad," and, trust me, there's no stopping it from going downhill from there. oh, well, back home to me slippers and me comics, I guess. . .
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