I know what you must be thinking, ‘Why Me?’
Well it’s your lucky week, because now that Paris has been caught downing margarita’s and climbing behind the wheel of her Mercedes-Benz, she probably will take it easy for awhile.
Moreover, the booze is probably the least of your worries. It will be the endless parade of multi-coloured pharmaceuticals that marches into her body that will shrivel you into a piece of tough shoe leather. The daily paxil/percocet breakfast combo coupled with the mid-afternoon coccaine/lorazepam snacks will surely do a number on you in a few years.
I’m afraid that once you give on her, she’ll have no choice but to give up on you. Once you cease filtering the bad stuff out, Paris will be on a first class plane to Indonesia for a little transplant tourism. She’ll find another liver. All it takes is a roofie and a greedy surgeon with quick hands and you’re a distant memory. Them’s the breaks when your living in the Hollywood fastlane. There have been far greater casualties, believe me.
Hey, if you want to go for a drink I’m up for it…oh, sorry.
Fergis T. McGillicuddy
These have been very busy days in these parts; there are many visitors. I like it.
However, I feel I must apologize to the people searching for “16 17 18 underwear models [sic]” or “sizzling redheads” for the absence of said querries. It’s partially my fault for writing to penthouse and not including anything the least bit “hot” or “erotic.” I thought I was being clever. Also, I’d like to mention that the real Penthouse Forum shouldn’t be that difficult to find. While there, you can use your credit card to pay for all sorts of smutty literature. Hell, there’s a public library in your city or town that lets people borrow books like that for the low price of a membership.
I suppose I should be flattered…and I am, but the truth is I can’t write erotica. I tried once and it was embarrassing. So now, I merely parody it in a poor manner.
Fergis T. McGillicuddy
I can’t believe it happened to me. I attended a party hosted by a lingerie model last weekend. As a journalist, my work introduces me to interesting characters occasionally and I met this model for a feature I wrote about a local designer. She appreciated my interviewing style apparently, because she invited me to her place for a party.
I brought a bottle of moderately priced Champagne (well, sparkling wine anyway), thinking that would be what a model and her friends would enjoy. To my surprise, I was greeted at the door by the model and a number of her equally sexy model friends drinking Jim Bean from the bottle. They took the bottle of Baby Duck from me and I never saw it again. As they led me to the hot tub, bourbon struck me as an odd choice of beverages for a group of nearly naked twenty-something lingerie models. That wasn’t the only thing that stuck me as odd as the night continued. They stripped me of my clothes, leaving only my modest underwear on.
As I got in to the hot tub alone, a cute redhead forced me to guzzle foul bourbon (Wild Turkey is the only decent choice of Kentucky’s finest). The girls began to circle the hot tub. I expected them to undress. Instead, they began donning full-body Disney mascot costumes. Mickey, Goofy, Donald, Pluto, one of the dwarves. They were all there. I searched for the booze again but the redhead was replaced by a furry visage of Buzz Lightyear. Naturally, I felt awkward at that point.
To make a long story short, the tub eventually went inside, played Scrabble and I went home alone. What gives Penthouse Forum?