girls next door

nobody@vox.com(molls) — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 23:04:08 -0800

I don't really have guilty pleasures, mainly because I challenge their existence (See: This Chuck Klosterman essay), but there are a few things I won't admit I enjoy immediately when meeting a person. These things include the major motion picture A Walk to Remember, Kelly Clarkson and E!'s The Girls Next Door. While the first two are arguably more embarrassing than a television show chronicling the exploits of Playboy bunnies, I still cringe when telling someone for the first time, "yeah, I saw that episode, too".

Get it? There's three of them and they are also IN a three!

It actually is a pretty decent show, as far as celebreality goes. It's not Anna Nicole, but there's a lot more substance there than you might get with say, Run's House, the most awful show to ever air on television, ever (Oh, and can we chat for a second about how Rev Run is constantly making noises that can only really be described as uhhhh, well, "retard noises"? What the fuck is wrong with him? Does he really want his message to be "I am a faithful, hardworking musical genius and family man... who also loves cracking a good 'tard joke"? I think fucking not, Rev Run. Reconsider some things.) GND is pretty great mainly because the three women are so different from each other and so different from everyone else on the planet. I wouldn't say they are all dumb (except Kendra, who is definitely dumb), there is just a slight alien-like quality about each one of them, as if they are just a little bit extra removed from the real world than the average spacey/weird person.

I've been thinking tonight a little bit about what these women would have done with themselves if it wasn't for Hugh Hefner. I decided that Bridget would have been OK no matter what, Holly would have been a high-class stripper, and Kendra would work at a Sav-On until she met a nice husband who let her dyke out on weekends and drink all the orange soda she ever wanted from the comfort of their Jennifer Convertible. There's some serious pros and cons of being one of Hef's girlfriends, too. It could either make you or break you, depending on how well-off you were before he scooped you up. If you started out as a former drug-addict who just spent all your savings on a new pair of tits (Kendra), then Hef is going to boost you up in the world. This is a fact. If you are a lively, somewhat intelligent woman interested in furthering your education at any cost and raising a family some day (Bridget), then maybe you should reconsider shacking up with the oldest perv in the game.

Hef with his full face of casket-ready make-up

Here are the pros and cons I can think of (nothing's thought out, I'll probably think of more and edit them in later):

Pro: In becoming a Hefner GF, you are officially a part of American pop-culture history. A seedy, specialized part of history, but nonetheless...
Con: In becoming a Hefner GF, you are automatically labeled a faux-polygamist slut by a great deal of the population. Do with that what you will.
Pro: You get to live in the Playboy mansion, a beautiful and historical estate.
Con: The Playboy Mansion supposedly ain't what it used to be. First of all, it looks like it smells like an old man's house. Probably because a very old and rigid man lives there. He may fuck 20 year olds, but Hef's just as much of a cranky senior citizen as your great aunt who yells at you for leaving the house without an undershirt on. You can bet that the entire time he's railing you, he is discussing the details of his last bowel movement and how he can't believe how much the electric bill is. Secondly, the majority of the house is still decorated the way it was when it was first built. One can imagine that 40 year-old orange shag carpeting isn't as fab as it once was.
Pro: You get a ton of free shit. Lingerie, jewlery, hair, make-up, cars, clothing...
Con: In exchange for the free stuff, you have to be photographed naked and have sex with an 80 year old man. In all seriousness, it really just depends on how much a life-time supply of pasties is worth to you.
Pro: Many American men still idealize the quintessential Playboy Bunny-- blond hair, fake boobs, tiny waists and wit that falls between medium bright and dim. You'd undeniably be worshiped in most workplaces that have cement floors (repo lots, auto shops and anything of mill-like in nature) and prisons.
Con: Androgyny's been in for a minute, homegirls. Us flat chested bitches are just getting our chance. Drag queens wont be taking over in the mainstream for a couple seasons at least (but yes, they've been on their way in for awhile now). Point is: you'll be re-touching those roots for at least another year before the masses start to take notice of you again.

Honestly? I like that Bridget has a little meat on her bones... Whore bones.

I realize that I sound pretty hateful. I'm actually not at all (heck, I've even admitted to wanting to skank it up for Dov Charney.) I kind of actually like these women, but it's just pretty clear to me that what they do would never be right for me, despite all the time I spend thinking about how easy it would be to get up, throw on some nipple tassels and already be at work.

It's a pretty good show. You should watch it.

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molls...she wrote

girls next door