The Girls Next Door

The wife's "Little People, Big World" obsession has waned and now replaced by "The Girls Next Door." For those who haven't had the pleasure of accidentally come across this A&E show, be glad-- er, I mean, you really should check it out. It's not exactly brain surgery, but it's so ridiculous , you just can't look away. The plot: Hugh Hefner (81 years young) and his three babes, each younger than the next. That's it.

I told you it wasn't brain surgery.

It's very entertaining. You almost can't believe that people can be that....that....cognitively limited...and still be worth watching. As the wife says, "One is dumber than the next."
Well, I wouldn't have put it that cruelly, but the truth does hurt sometimes. I would have said "One is blonder than the next" and that there is a giant vat of bleach missing from the store. All that bleach can't be good for the brain.

I admit to taking a sneak peek at the TV screen when the wife is watching the game. My favorite girl is Kendra because of her laugh. Well, that and her I.Q. She is a wild one.

Now, I don't want "Cheeseball Neighbor" to feel bad that we don't think of her when we hear the words "The Girls Next Door." First of all, Cheesball Neighbor's I.Q. is higher than all three of these girls' I.Q. combined. Second of all, Cheeseball Neighbor isn't blond. (Well, neither are the girls on T.V. but who's checking roots?) And, third--the Girls Next Door don't have cheeseballs, so take that.

My question is: why are these three girls in bed with Hef? I understand why Hef is in bed with them, but them? Their total age is less than his age. Really.

God love ya, Hef. You're certainly doing something right. (Apologies to all militant feminists for my acceptance of the Playboy Mansion and all that goes on within its confines. Have a sense of humor, will ya?) But, why do they call you "Puffin?"



As for me, I've decided to call this year "SPORTY FIVE." Every day for one year, I shall be part of at least one sporty thing. I did not mean to say I would be DOING a sporty thing every day--rather, I will be somehow be LINKED to something sporty every day. That covers everything from doing yoga in the living room to watching my nieces bowl. So, that means going to Rockford Thunder Games, attending Chicago Sky games, bike riding, lifting weights in the basement, gardening (only if I break a sweat while gardening), going to watch Cheeseball neighbor play softball, golfing, pee wee golfing, running through sprinklers, chasing clients, chasing Lucy (when she runs away because I dropped the leash), walking in general, riding Eisteina Vagina's wave runner, riding on a pontoon boat, playing touch football with Cheeseball Neighbor's friends (not that I have recovered from my ankle injury sustained last year when I joined them for a game)....

....Walking the dogs and eating Dairy Queen Blizzards will NOT qualify for being sporty. I have to draw the line somewhere. (It's my canine-owning obligation to walk the dogs daily, so I can't count that. That's like a job, not a sport. Besides, Freckles moves so slowly that we are barely even walking....)

Watching "The Girls Next Door" does not qualify as sporty, either, although all the laughing I do might be aerobic in nature.

The jury is out if eating more than one pound of chocolate a day qualifies as sporty. I'm thinking not but not everyone can do that, so I may have something there. Getting a new tattoo is pretty sporty because it hurts and makes you break out in a sweat, so I'll go do that and call it sporty squared.

So, when you see me, just yell out a big "SPORTY FIVE" and wish me luck for a full year of sportiness. Wink Wink!