Happy Birthday, Heff...
I guess...

I had a moment the other day - one of those moments that makes you realize just what a bizarre world we live in.

So Heff is on this show, right? About the life he leads with his three live-in girlfriends, lounging around in PJ's all day, buying parrots and doing weird, frankly pointless things. And the thing about this show that gets me is this: when you listen to him talk, Heff actually sounds like a regular joe his age! You'd never guess that this normal guy, a guy who frankly sounds like my uncle when he talks, could go home and do a Scrooge MacDuck into the vast millions he has made by selling racy pictures, after which he could pick which one of his Harem would bring him a snifter of brandy and give him a foot rub.

And here's the bizarre part: on the five-minute stretch of the show that I happened to watch one time (no, seriously - just five minutes, and I didn't enjoy them, not even the silky-pajamaed lovelies prancing around), Heff and his ladies decide to strike up a friendly game of Monopoly. Like you would if you didn't live in the Playboy Mansion.

So just picture the scene, if you will: my Mormon wife and I, watching a television show featuring a smutty old millionaire having a family game night with his three 20-something girlfriends. The ironies and bizarrities are boundless.

You get me?


End Transmission.