creepy old perverts, Crystal Harris, D-Listers, Dracula, elder abuse, floozies, gold digger, Greta Van Susteren, Hugh Hefner, human souls, jilted, left at the alter, May-December romances, old people, Pandora's Box, Playboy, Playboy Mansion, porn empire, pornography, Ryan Reynolds, strumpets, that old person smell, that trick never works, the best laid plans of mice and men, Viagra
Cartoonish anachronism Hugh Hefner is no doubt devastated after being left at the altar. His former fiance, the twenty-five-year-old strumpet Crystal Harris, seems to have come to her senses at the last minute, announcing Tuesday that she would not wed the pornography mogul on Saturday, even if the feeble old man should manage to live until then. Although the probability that the silicate gold-digger would jilt her octogenarian sugar-grampy was obvious to just about any creature able to walk on two legs,* it appears to have come as an unwelcome surprise to Hef.
Although serving as Hef’s lover/nurse can be lucrative, the investment in both time and in hiding her personal revulsion at the sight of Hef’s sagging, bespotted body proved more responsibility than the young floozy was willing to undertake. The famed Playboy Mansion, so long ago a hipster Mecca for the swinging set, is now a dilapidated tomb whose hallways are haunted by dimly-recalled D-Listers who tread carefully around piles of dogshit left by Hef’s ill-behaved curs, their empty, overloud laughter echoing through the decayed manse like the ghosts of better days. “Plus,” Harris is reported to have told a confidante in the days before her departure, “Do you know how hard it is to get the taste of old man out of your mouth? You can’t do it!”
Adding to the poignancy of the debacle are the events planned in conjunction the now-obviated nuptials, which like the legendary evils contained in Pandora’s Box, are not so very easy to undo once set in motion. The latest issue of Hefner’s quaint pornographic periodical, Playboy, which has already gone to print, will feature the formerly-soon-to-be Mrs. Hugh Hefner on the cover, along with the now-embarrassingly cringeworthy headline: “Introducing Mrs. Crystal Hefner.
Hefner, who in his advancing years seems increasingly eager to play a caricature of himself, has responded with the maturity one would expect from a guy who’s worn the same bathrobe for the last quarter-century and can’t be assed to pick up after the dogs he’s too lazy to housebreak. Like a friendless and petulant adolescent, Hefner plans to affix each issue with a sticker bearing the sophomoric and slightly unoriginal title: Runaway Bride.
*Including but not limited to kangaroos & wallabies, most species of birds and Ryan Reynolds. ∞T.