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S TOJICHINA 


A QUALITY 


& 


SOUR MASH 


WHISKEY 


DISTILLED AND BOTTLED BY 
JACK DANIEL DISTILLERY 
LEM MOTLOW, PROPRIETOR 
LYNCHBURG (POP. 361), TENN, U.S.A, 
EST. de REG, IN 1866 
40% ALC. BY VOL. (80 PROOF) 


PLEASE ENJOY RESPONSIBLY. 


MATURITY APPLIES TO MORE THAN JUST OUR WHISKEY. 


VOL. 56, NO. 2-FEBRUARY 2009 


PLAYBOY 


FEATURES B 
38 | 
THE DRUG COAST 


Lawless Guinea-Bissau is the perfect stopover for cocaine traveling from Colombia to 
Europe. reports from the world's first narco state. 


44 THE WHISTLE BLOWERS 
Super Bowl refs open up to S 

\LERNO about what really goes on dur- 
ing the big game. 


56 PEEP CULTURE 

dis- 
sects the impact of 
blogs, social networks B 
and reality TV and | 
explains what you 
should know about a 
world in which every- 
one is a star. 


76 CARS OF THE 
YEAR 2009 
We tested the fastest, greenest and 


meanest driving machines on the road 
Yes, you should be jealous. 


I уу 
51 HUGH LAURIE 
pays a visit to House's 
misanthropic yet likable doctor. The 
diagnosis? Men are loners, and the star 
is heavily conflicted about success. 


82 JOSH HOLLOWAY 

The laid-back actor who plays Lost's 
badass tells you 
should never drive fast (or drunk) in 
Hawaii and you certainly don't want to 
rob his house 


72 HELPLESS LITTLE THINGS 

In a story by National Book Award 
winner J , a con man who 
exploits wayward youths in Portland, 
Oregon discovers he's the biggest 
patsy of them all 


we know it, but Holly, Bridget and Kendra 
feel fine. Senior Contributing Photographer 
Arny Freytag catches each of Hef's leading 
ladies one more time at the Mansion before 
they embark on new solo adventures. Our 
Rabbit leaves a lingering impression. 


VOL. 56, NO. 2-FEBRUARY 2009 


42 FOREIGN EXCHANGE: 60 PLA MATE 115 THE MONEY PIT 

LOVE AND WARSAW It took three decades to create the 
Polish model Marta Gut is a testament JESSICA BURCIAGA SEE ЫДЫ: has breken ойг 
ESDP: the grim prospects for reform and how 
Congress is trying to fight corruption. 
117 FREEDOM TAX 

Liberty cannot flourish with an ever- 


increasing polarization of wealth. Just 
ask Teddy Roosevelt. B 1 


PLAYBOY. COM 


E Guess our models' dance 
moves, play the Playmate Match Game 
and more in our new online arcade. 
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)NTH 


48 TH 


Sarah Palin took a break from moose 
hunting to campaign for MILF of the 
year; Hef checked out potential new 
girlfriends; celesbians like Lindsay 
Lohan and girlfriend Samantha Ron- 
son raised eyebrows...plus much more. 


60 PLAYMATE: 
JESSICA BURCIAGA 


Miss February hops out of her Bunny 
costume in Sin City. 


86 GOOD-BYE GIRLS 
Holly, Bridget and Kendra come to- 
gether for a final fantasy. 


E 5 Browse 
our ‘expended library of Playboy Inter- 
views, playboy.com/interviews 
DAILY ADVICE Our new Playboy Advi- 
sor section gives sage info every day. 
payer comi eder 

E Party Girl, our new 24-7 
blog: meets-reality show, follows a sexy 
L.A. scenester through her wild nights. 
playboy.com/afterhours 

Find one more 
answer from Lost star Josh Holloway. 
playboy.com/21q 


THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY 

What happens at the Mansion...sometimes gets 
broadcast across the country. Adam Carolla 
hosts Blotto in the Grotto; Kristina and Karissa 
Shannon show Hef their "love chests." 
GHOULS, GOBLINS AND GIRLS 

King Tut (Corey Feldman), Popeye (Adam 
Archuleta) and Minnie Mouse (Kelly Os- 
bourne) enjoy Hef's Monster Bash 
PLAYMATE NEWS 

Brande Roderick leaves a sweet aftertaste on 
The Celebrity Apprentice; Colleen Shannon 
turns the beat around with a hot playlist. 


ARTME 
PLAYBILL 
DEAR PLAYBOY 
AFTER HOURS 
REVIEWS 

19 CITY GUIDE 

23 MANTRACK 

26 SUCCESS: PHIL К 


GUY 2.0 PARTY GIRL: 51 


7 
Justin Long may look schlubby when 29 PLAYBOY ADVISOR 
he's hawking Apple computers, but the za 
star of He's Just Not That into You knows 70 PARTY JOKES e 
how to dress up for his new role. 120 GRAPEVINE PRINTED IN U.S.A 


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PLAYBOY 


WR 
WR 


The Norman Mailer Writers 
Colony announces its inaugural 
series of week long creative writing 
workshops at Provincetown, MA 
beginning in mid May 2009 for 

a period of 5 weeks. 


The courses were established, 
to honor Norman Mailer's 
contributions to American 

culture and letters and to foster 
future generations of writers. 


These fee based workshops will 
take place at Mailer's home in 
Provincetown and include condo 
housing and living expenses while 
attending the workshops. 


For a full list of courses 
and application forms, visit 


www.nmwcolony.org 
ог call 


1 (800) 835-7853 


Submissions must be received by March 10, 2009. 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 


editor-in-chief 


CHRISTOPHER NAPOLITANO 
editorial director 
STEPHEN RANDALL depuly editor 
ROB WILSON art director 
GARY COLE photography director 
A.J. BAIME, LEOPOLD FROEHLICH executive editors 


EDITORIAL 
FEATURES: AMY GRACE LOYD literary editor; CHIP ROWE senior editor 
FASHION: JENNIFER RYAN JONES editor; CONOR HOGAN assistant editor FORUM: TIMOTHY MOHR associate 
editor MODERN LIVING: SCOTT ALEXANDER senior edilor STAFF: ROBERT B. DE SALVO, JOSH ROBERTSON 
associate editors; ROCKY RAKOVIC assistant edilor; VIVIAN COLON, GILBERT MACIAS editorial assistants 
CARTOONS: JENNIFER THIELE (пеш york), AMANDA WARREN (los angeles) editorial coordinators 
COPY: WINIFRED ORMOND copy chief? CAMILLE CAUTI associate copy chief; DAVID DELP JOSEPH WESTERFIELD 
copy editors RESEARCH: MICHAEL MATASSA deputy research chief; RON MOTTA senior research editor; 
BRYAN ABRAMS, CORINNE CUMMINGS, SETH FIEGERMAN research editors 
EDITORIAL PRODUCTION: DAVID PFISTER assistant managing editor; VALERIE THOMAS manager 
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS: MARK BOAL (writer al large), KEVIN BUCKLE 
EDGI 


SIMON COOPER, GRETCHEN 
EN, KEN GROSS, DAVID HOCHMAN, WARREN KALB MER (automotive), JONATHAN 
LITTMAN, JOE MORGENSTERN, JAMES R. PETERSEN, STEPHEN REBELLO, DAVID RENSIN, JAMES ROSEN, 
DAVID SHEFF, DAVID STEVENS, ROB TANNENBAUM, JOHN D. THOMAS, ALICE K TURNER, ROB WALTON 


SKER, ARTHUR KREI 


ART 
LER contributing art director; SCOTT ANDERSON, BRUCE HANSEN, CHET SUSKI 
'clors; PAUL CHAN senior art assistant; STEFANI COLE senior art administrator 


TOM STA 
senior art din 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
STEPHANIE MORRIS west coast editor; JIM LARSON managing editor; HOLLY MADISON 
playmate editor; wsrrv BEAUDETERANCES senior edilor-entertainment; MATT STEIGBGEL associate editor; 

RENAY LARSON assistant editor; ARNY FREYTAG, STEPHEN WAYDA senior contributing photographers; 
GEORGE GEORGIOU staff photographer; JAMES IMBROGNO, RICHARD IZUI, MIZUNO, BYRON NEWMAN, 

GEN NISHINO, JARMO POHJANIEMI, DAVID RAMS, BILL WHITE contributing photographers; 
BONNIE JEAN KENNY manager, photo archives; KEVIN CRAIG manager, imaging lab; MARIA HAGEN 

stylist; KRYSTLE JOHNSON, BARBARA LEIGH production coordinators 


LOUIS R. MOHN publisher 


ADVERTISING 
ROB EISENHARDT associate publisher; JOHN LUMPKIN associate publisher, digital; HELEN BIANCULLI 
executive director, direct-response advertising; MARIE FIRNENO advertising operations director 
NEW YORK: JESSIE CLARY category sales manager-fashion; SHERI WARNKE southeast manager 
CHICAGO: LAUREN KINDER midwest sales manager LOS ANGELES: COREY SPIEGEL west coast manager 
DETROIT: STEVE ROUSSEAU detroit manager SAN FRANCISCO: ED MEAGHER northwest manager 


MARKETING 
LISA NATALE associate publisher/marketing; STEPHEN MURRAY marketing services direct 
DANA ROSENTHAL events marketing director; CHRISTOPHER SHOOLIS research director; 
DONNA TAVOSO creative services director 


т; 


PUBLIC RELATIONS 
LAUREN MELONE division senior vice president; PHIL DIANNI, ROB HILBURGER publicity directors 


PRODUCTION 
Jovy JURGETO production director; DEBBIE ociate manage 
CHAR KROWCZVK, BARB TEKIELA assistant managers; BILL BENWAY, SIMMIE WILLIAMS prepress 


шос ds 


CIRCULATION 
LARRY A. DJERF newsstand sales director; PHYLLIS ROTUNNO circulation director 


ADMINISTRATIVE 
MARCIA TERRONES rights & permissions director 


INTERNATIONAL PUBLISHING 
BOB O'DONNELL managing director; DAVID WALKER editorial director 


PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES INTERNATIONAL, INC. 
CHRISTIE HEFNER chairman, chief executive officer 
BOB MEYERS president, media group 


б | Jess Walter 


ast month we celebrated our 55th anni- 
versary. With this issu и are peering 
tinto the future, It's pac ith pleasant 
surprises, new looks and fresh formats—the 
latest development of our magic mix of enter- 
tainment, timely information, e 
and the world's most gen 
women. While 
man and worr 
sexy T-shirts 
dio programs, TV channels, events), 
a state of mind, a set of principles that have 
changed our way of life for the better 
Flip through this issue and you'll see what 
. As always, we put the emph: on 
xperience. Phil Knight describes in his own 
words exactly how he met the challenge of 
Nikes in China. His essay kicks off 
onthly S uccess column, a 


peels bac 

way the female mind and body—wor ks. Then 
it's time to find your own fun: Our City Guide 
page will help you get to wher 

is. Don't carry the magazine with you when 
you're out at night? No worries—our robust 
online City Guides will also be а 

timately) via mobile phone as all plec 

Playboy universe converge for a truly big bang 
Throughout tl юш find reaso 
toc one the 


video blog, vote 
in our nev Raw Data poll and 
rate nightclubs for City Guides. 
Bookmark it now 
It certainly helps our grand 
plans this month to feature the 
ultimate pictorial of the most fa- 
mous threesome in Playboyland, 
Holly, Bridget and Kendra. 
Each of the Girls Next Door has 
own cover—and her own behind- 
take on the phenom- 
enon that made them household 
names. Perspectives change, but 


y why a magazine of 
such disparate parts works. We have pen 
etrating exchanges with Interview subject 
Hugh Laurie, who has taken grumpiness 
to new heights on House, and with Lost bad 
boy Josh Holloway in 20Q. In The Drug 
Coast Christian Parenti sniffs around the 
world's first narco state, Guinea-Bissau, and 
for Peep Culture Hal Niedzviecki tackles 
reality exhibitionism. Then there's a brilliant 
short story by National Book Award final- 

Jess Walter (with artwork by Nathan 
Fox), the inside dope on Super Bowl refs 
and Justin "the Mac Guy" Long in the 
right clothes for a good time. So sit down, 
have a great read and savor the experience 


Suzy McCoppin 


Nathan Fox 


Christian Parenti 


Hal Niedzviecki 


"Race Pro recrea 
breathtaking re: 
giving gamers the 
ultimate racing simulation 
experience with precision 
physics and handling.” 
WorthPlaying.corm 


IVE, and the Xbox logos are trademarks of he Microsoft gn 
by SIMBIN STUDIOS AB. Al other trademarks ara property y 


BOND GIRLS IN EXILE 
All the women in your Bond Girls tribute 
(November) are gorgeous, but how could 
you forget Jill St. John? Besides looking 
great in a bikini, she was the first Ameri- 
can Bond girl. When Sean Connery meets 
her in Diamonds Are Forever she changes 
her hair color three times, asking which 
he prefers. Bond says it doesn't matter, 
"as long as the collars and cuffs match." 
Rick Readence 
Wickliffe, Ohio 


Where is Eunice Gayson from Dr. No 
and From Russia With Love? She was the 
first to hear the famous introduction 
"Bond. James Bond." 

Gary Petzel 
Grand Rapids, Michigan 


No Famke Janssen from GoldenEye? 
Ricky Delgado 
Brentwood, New York 


erina Murino from 
s the most voluptuous 


What about Ca 
Casino Royale? She 
Bond girl ev 


Joel Lansden 
Madisonville, Kentucky 


Why does everyone overlook the best 
Bond girl of all, Lotte Lenya, who played 
Colonel Rosa Klebb in From Russia With 
Love? She may not be a traditional beauty, 
but she's the one Га like to have watch- 
ing my back during a bar fight, especially 
with that orthopedic switchblade. 

Randy Brooks 
Spring Hill, Florida 


MORE ON BOND 
In Facts. Bond Facts (November) you 
reprint a photo taken from the For Your 
^s Only movie poster. James Bond is 
seen through the long legs of a woman 
holding a crossbow, Does anyone know 
to whom those legs belong? 
Mark Reinstein 
Boca Raton, Florida 
Bill Gold, who designed that classic poster, 
isn't sure so many years later of the model's 
identity but recalls asking her to wear her 
bikini bottom backward to show more skin 
When the image ran in The New York Times, 
the newspaper drew on a pair of shorts. 


It was a privilege and an honor to 
have my James Bond stories published 
in PLAYBOY. However, I want to correct a 
small error in your Bond facts: My 007 
fiction appeared in the magazine six times 
(two stories and four novel excerpts). 

Raymond Benson 
Buffalo Grove, Illinois 

You're right, of course. An anthology of Ben- 
son's Bond fiction, The Union Trilogy, has just 
been published by Pegasus. 


Lenjoyed the Bond facts, Bond girls and 
Playboy Interview with Daniel Craig. But I 
couldn't help noticing that your review of 
Quantum of Solace identifies Casino Royale 


DEAR PLAYBOY 


My initial reaction to Will Blythe's 
profile of young Barack Obama orga- 
nizer Lamont Carolina (The Campaign 
of His Life, November) was “Oh boy, 
another story about a kid from the 
ghetto saved by the benevolence of lib- 
eral white Democratic superheroes.” But 
as I read on, my attitude changed—this 
is a profound human story inspired by 
a profound campaign. Carolina's belief 
that he can now look at the presidential 
seal "and know that it means us" reflects 
our nation's political transformation. 

Jeff Johnson 
Washington, D.C. 

Johnson is author of Everything I'm Not 
Made Me Everything I Am and host of 
The Truth With Jeff Johnson on BET. 


as the 21st Bond film. By my count it’s the 
22nd. Am I missing something? 
Jeff Bass 
Titusville, Florida 
Never Say Never Again, the 1983 remake 
of Thunderball, wasn't overseen by Cubby 
Broccoli's production company, so purists don't 
count it among the official films. 


Each fall I introduce my high school 
students to Tom Jones, which screened at 
the White House on November 17, 1963, 
by telling them it was the last film Pr 
dent Kennedy ever saw. Imagine my dis 
may after reading that From Russia With 
Love screened at the White House three 
days later. Presenting the “next-to-last 
film Kennedy ever watched” doesn't seem 
nearly as impressive. Is there any chance 
JFK slept through the Bond flick? 

Charise Cullin Christian 
Denton, Texas 


READ ALL OVER 
As I browse the list of your 
tional editions at playboy.com, 
ing to see PLAYBOY is now published in so 
many former communist countries, such 
as Bulgaria, Estonia, Georgia, Lithuania, 
Poland, Romania, Russia, Slovakia, Slove- 
nia and Ukraine. I like to think my mili- 
tary service during the Cold War in some 
small way helped make that possible. 
Jack Driggers 
Charlotte, North Carolina 
It did. Thanks to you and all members of the 
armed services for expanding the boundaries 
of freedom, then and пош. 


interna- 


When I tell friends rLavgoy is banned in 
Thailand, along with lip-to-lip ki 
television, they usually laugh, given the 
country's reputation for sex tourism. My 
solution as an American living in the Land 


of Smiles? I subscribe to Playboy Digital. 

It's well worth it and some consolation. 
Frank Anderson 
Korat, Thailand 


HANDLER WITH CARE 

1200 with Chelsea Handler (Novem- 
ber 5 agel had to love talking to 
a woman who is more than ready to bring 
it. And she's so right that older men such 


The funniest celeb ever caught without panties. 


as her boyfriend, who has 90 years on her, 
know how to take care ofa woman. 

Scott St. James 

Valley Village, California 


I laughed so damn hard reading Hand- 
ler's assertion that she wouldn't sleep 
with a redhead ever again because it was 
"blinding" and he "looks like he's got a 
clown in a leg lock." As a redhead myself, 


PLAYBOY 


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Think Wisely. Di 
Drink Wisely. 


I must say that despite Handler's experi- 
ence, red on head equals good in bed. 
Trish Savery 
Mountain City, Tennessee 


I have been a Handler fan since Girls 
Behaving Badly. She has a beautiful back. 
Eric Reyes 
Blue Island, Illinois 


My husband and I were lucky enough 
to catch one of Handler's shows a few 
years ago. She is outrageously funny and 
Just as gorgeous in person. 

Becky Edwards 
Queensbury, New York 


LOST BUNNY 
I have been reading глүвоү since the 
1950s and always see how long it takes 
me to find the Rabbit Head on the cover. 
After scanning every square inch of the 
November photo, I was about to con- 
cede when I caught sight of the elusive 
little rascal nuzzling Rachelle Leah's left 
breast. He was laughing at me. 
Randolph Whitby 
Smithsburg, Maryland 
You didn’t start with her breasts? 


PENIS ENVY 

As the author of Exercising the Penis, I've 
done my fair share of research on man’s 
favorite organ. Although Chip Rowe cov- 
ers many newfound truths in The Sexual 
Male, Part Five; The Hard Facts (Novem- 
ber), he fails t 
penis exercise. Writing in the British Jour- 
nal of Urology International, Grace Dorey 
reports some exercises can improve erec- 
tile strength as effectively as drugs. And 
a 2008 study by Dr. Laurence Levine in 
The Journal of Sexual Medicine found that 
using a traction device can not only cor 
rect the curvature of Peyronie's di 


through a technique called jelqing. My 
guess is that, rather than handing out 
Viagra, physicians will be prescribing 
penile workouts within 10 years. 
Aaron Kemmer 

Tampa, Florida 

Rowe replies: “That would certainly make 
going to the gym more interesting. However, it 
isn't possible to ‘exercise’ a penis, only the muscles 
that support it. Dorey's study concerns strength- 
ening the pubococcygeus muscle to treat inconti- 
nence, but the same routine can increase erectile 
strength. "Squeeze as if you were stopping the 
flow of urine,’ says sexologist Beverly Whipple. T 
recommend up to 150 reps a day. Monitor your 
strength by lifting your erection with a tissue on it 
and then slowly working up to a washcloth and a 
towel.’ Levine's study of the $250 FastSize trac- 
tion device (made by a company for which he is a 
paid consultant) to treat Peyronie's included some 
volunteers who ended up with longer penises. 
However, the increase was at best two centimeters, 
and it came only after wearing the device for up 
to eight hours a day over six months. 1 discussed 
jelging, which involves tugging the end of your 


Adress the benefits of 


cock hundreds of times a day over months, in my 
February 2001 report, The Moron’s Guide to a 
Larger Penis. And a final note: The smart man's 
favorite organ is the clitoris.” 


ACCESS TO POWER 
Talk about a knockout —mixed-martial- 
arts host Rachelle Leah (The Ultimate Fight 
Chick, November) is easily the UFC (Ulti- 
mate Fine Chick) champion. You hit this 
one out of the Octagon. 
Kelly Blask 
Mason, Michigan 


Rachelle was discovered at a boxing match. 


I've seen a lot of gorgeous legs in 
the magazine, but the November cover 
stopped me dead in my tracks. 
Brett Horlacher 
Kings Bay, Georgia 


ROCK STEADY 
You have outdone yourself with Playmate 
Grace Kim (Amazing Grace, November). 
Mike Bachelder 
Cheyenne, Wyoming 


Grace is the most beautiful woman I 
have ever seen. Plus, she is an experi- 
enced Guitar Hero and Rock Band gamer 
who likes to compete for “perks.” What 
more could a man want? 

David Castanheira 
White Plains, New York 


I have been a subscriber for the past 
two years and a fan even longer. It is 
exciting to see a beautiful rockin’ woman 
of Korean ancestry in the magazine. 

Song Han 
San Diego, California 


The Grace Kim and Rachelle Leah pic- 
torials are your best in a decade. I hope 
you will feature more Asian and Mediter- 
ranean women. 

Steven Guardala 
Stony Brook, New York 


E-mail via the web at LETTERS.PLAYBOY.COM Or write: 730 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10019 


The longer you wait 


Think Wisely. 
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PLAYBOY 


HEF SIGHTINGS, MANSION FROLICS AND NIGHTLIFE NOTES 


A TASTE OF THE GOOD LIFE 


Miss March 2008 Ida Ljungqvist, PMOY 2002 Dalene Kurtis, Miss February 
2007 Heather Rene Smith and Miss July 2007 Tiffany Selby toasted the launch 
of Playboy Energy Drink at PMW. The delicious elixir has enough guarana, 
ginseng and taurine to keep you going all night long. 


E 


BLOTTO IN THE GROTTO 

Adam Carolla and Teresa Strasser hosted their annual Blotto in the 
Grotto event for The Adam Carolla Show. The most interesting part of 
the party being broadcast live from the Mansion? It wasn't the nude rev- 
elers but Hef dropping by to talk frankly about his love-life transitions. 


A NUDE MISS 
UNIVERSE PAGEANT 
The foreign editions of 
PLAYBOY jetted their hottest 
Playmates to the Mansion 
forthe upcoming sexiest-on- 
the-planet pictorial. Pictured 
are Romania's Andreea 
Mantea, Slovakia's Eva 
Cifrová, Poland's Katarzyna 
Danysz, the Netherlands" 
Mai-Lan Leenders, Hef, 
Hungary's Viktoria Metzker, 
Germany's Daniela Wolf, 
Ukraine's Iryna Olhovska 
and Russia's Inna Popenko. 
It will be like a Miss Universe 
pageant—only nude! 


SCENTS AND 
SENSIBILITY $ 
The Girls Next Door 
were in New York 
forthe launch ofthe 
Playboy fragrance 
line from the Coty 
perfume house. 
While the girls 
come in three fla- 
vors, our colognes 
were inspired by 
the vibes in four hip 
cities: Hollywood 
(the star), Vegas 
(maverick), Malibu 
(surfer) and Miami 
(man about town). 


is dating. And while 
you may have heard 
aboutiton television, 
on blogs or in gossip 
mags, here's proof 
in PLAYBOY print. 
Gone are the days 
when girls wore their 
boyfriend'sclassring 
or pin. The Shannon 
twins, Karissa and 
Kristina, update 
that concept with a 
more personalized 
homage in paint to 
their new beau. 


GHOULS, | GOBLINS 


For Halloween, Hef transformed the Mansion into 
a House of Horrors and Hotties, (1) Here's the 
horny devil himself flanked by his two angels, 
Karissa and Kristina Shannon, upcoming Chicago 
Playmate Crystal McC: 

senior Amy Leigh Andrews. (2) PLAYBOY model 
Susie Feldman (left) is one hot mummy with hus- 
band “King” Corey and a friend. (3) Stag 
Night's Breckin Me with PMOY 2007 Sara 
Jean Underwood. (4) Holly as a sexy late 
career Elvis, Bridget channeling the luscious 
Lily Munster and the cute yellow canary Ken: 

dra. (5) The Man with Bill Maher. (6) Fantastic 

4's Chris Evans with PLAYBOY cover model Vida 
Guerra. (7) Miss August 2001 Jennifer Walcott 
and Adam “Popeye” Archuleta. (8) Hollywood's 
hottest couple, Brody Jenner and PMOY 2008 
Jayde Nicole, (9) How I Met Your Mother's Neil 
Patrick Harris and his better half, David 
Burtka. (10) Ozzy's kids Kelly and Jack 
Osbourne. (11) Captain Morgan hooks Holly 

on the dance floor. (12) Miss January 2002 
Nicole Narain flashes the camera. (13) Hef's 
Halloween treat: Painted Ladies galore. 


PLAYBOY AFTERH 


BECOMING ATTRACTION 


Ameríca 
Olivo 


hh. Ameríca Olivo is in Friday 
Sie 13th, the reboot of the 

well-known slasher series, 
in theaters this month, but she 
won't talk about it, Won't tell us 
about her character, Amanda, and 
what grisly fate may or may not be 
in store, Ameríca (say it like "Costa 
Rica") is guarding the details like 
state secrets. Such is not the case 
with Bitch Slap, her other upcom- 
ing release. A tale of three busty 
vixens meting out cleavage and 
violence in the desert, it bears 
more than a little resemblance to 
Russ Meyer's classic Faster, Pussy- 
cat! Kill! Kill! "It's a festival of girl- 
on-girl fighting and boobs," she 
boasts. "This is dirty fighting—UFC 
stuff. If Russ Meyer were alive to- 
day, he'd make Bitch Slap." Just 
don't tell her she's spoofing Meyer. 
"It's not a parody," she insists. 
"We're paying homage, like Taran- 
tino and Rodriguez did with Grind- 
house. I love genre films.” For 
Ameríca, though, it's part love, part 
genetic predisposition. Her mother 
is Danica D'Hondt, a statuesque 
former Miss Canada who played 
bombshells in several 1960s drive- 
in flicks, as well as on TV shows 
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. and The 
Wild Wild West, Despite the hot 
mom, Ameríca was never one to 
flaunt her own gifts. "I was very 
shy," she recalls. "In college I 
wouldn't change clothes in front of 
my roommates. I'm a good Catho- 
lic girl gone really, really bad." 
Later, with help from photographer 
friend Caesar Lima, Ameríca be- 
came comfortable with nudity. 
Extremely. “You don't see my boo- 
bies in Bitch Slap, but you do in 
Friday the 13th," she says. Umm, 
America? Don't look now, but your 
state secrets are showing. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY 
BRIE CHILDERS 


(© VISIT OUR ENTIRE LIBRARY OF BECOMING ATTRACTIONS AT PLAYBOY.COM. 


13 


How It's Done 


You may be familiar with a dia- 
gram or two from the Kama 
Sutra, but when it comes to 
two ladies fornicating, what 
do you know about the differ- 
ent ways of doing it? At left 
are a few instructive photos 
from Lesbian Sex: 101 Love- 
making Positions by Jude 
Schell. Can you match each 
arrangement with one of the 
following names? 


1. Mane and Tail 

2. Maryann and Ginger 
3. Annie Oakley 

4, The Cleopatra 


Small Balls 
Alchemy 
With Alcohol 


Cointreau, the orange liqueur es- 
sential to a sidecar and nice in a 
margarita, has gone s Booze 
tends to want to stay liquid, but 
after months of research, Coin- 
treau's scientists figured out 
how to "spherify" the stuff into 
little orange globs that resemble 
caviar. You can't do this at home. 
Really, you can't—you need а 
special science kit to do it, and 
they're not for sale. Fortunately, 
Cointreau sent kits to mixolo- 
gists, who are putting them to 
use. For a ballsy cocktail, try the 
Hawaiian saimin at 33 in Bos- 


ton, the limoncello drop at Max 
Downtown in Hartford, Connect- 
icut or the pomegranate pearls. 
at Daniel in Manhattan. 


Meet Simon Helberg 


Simon Helberg's character Howie Wolowitz can 
be described as the coolest of the awkward 
brainiacs on the sitcom The Big Bang Theory. 
"He's definitely the most put together,” says 
Helberg. "His goal in life is physical contact with 
girls, and he thinks he has it down to a science" 
For any man who has ever tried to stand out and 
ended up looking weird (which is most of us), 
Howie is immensely sympathetic. 


PLAYBOY: Howie has a particular look— 
perhaps we should start with his Meet the 
Beatles haircut. Is that your real hair? 
SIMON: Yes. It's quite a process. The stylists 
have to flat-iron it and then shape it so it fits 
like a helmet. 

PLAYBOY: It certainly works well with all 
the turtlenecks he wears. 

SIMON: He thinks it does, which is what's 
important. The wardrobe people are amaz- 
ing, They outfit Howie in tight clothing and 
Vans, and he has a thing for weird homemade 
belt buckles created out of things like a Nin- 
tendo controller or a reel from an old reel- 
to-reel tape player. 

PLAYBOY: Does your fashion sense overlap 
with Howie's? 

SIMON: I do have a thing for tennis shoes, 
vintage styles from the 1970s and 1980s. And 
I'm small, so I can wear a lot of the great fit- 
ted stuff you find in vintage stores. It bears 
out my theory that smaller people are supe- 
rior. We get the best vintage clothing. 
PLAYBOY: Are you really that small? 
SIMON: I'm five-foot-seven, which is not 
dwarfishly small. It's notas if I need a booster 
seat when I go to a restaurant. 

PLAYBOY: Is Howie based on your own ex- 
periences or those of anyone you know? 
SIMON: No, actually. My friends and I were 
terrified of women. We could talk to them and 
become friends with them, but we could never 
figure out how to date them. Howie truly be- 
lieves he's a lothario. He has taught himself 
pickup lines in several different languages. 
PLAYBOY: Does he ever get the girl? 
SIMON: Not really, but he doesn't let it affect 
him. He'll never stop trying 


SEE MORE OF DANIELLE AT CLUB.PLAYB( 
APPLY TO BE AN EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTI 


Employee of the Month 
Danielle 
Fornarelli 


PLAYBOY: You work at a pizzeria? 

Not just a pizzeria—it's a 
Chicago chain called Pizza-Ria. I co- 
founded itin the early 2000s, and in the 
years since, I've sold off some of the 
restaurants to friends and family. 
PLAYBOY: Wow, you started young. 

When I was 21 I owned 
nine restaurants. 

PLAYBOY: What has been the key to 
your success? 

My partner and I opened 
our first shop near a huge college dor- 
mitory, and we offered pizza by the 
slice. Most places in Chicago don't do 
that. It's more affordable for college 
students to pick up a few slices rather 
than spring for a whole pie. 
PLAYBOY: Are there any other differ- 
ences between your pizza places and 
others in the Windy City? 

Many Chicagoans will hate 
me for saying this, but I can't stand 
deep dish. All our pizzas are New York- 
style thin crust. 

PLAYBOY: Why no love for deep dish? 

Deep dish is really heavy; 
after eating one you basically can't 
move. You can eat our pizza and still be 
able to do things, like have sex! 
PLAYBOY: What's the best thing on 
the menu at Pizza-Ria? 

I like our Malibu pizza. It 
has grilled chicken with ranch dressing 
and fresh mozzarella. 

PLAYBOY: What's your best feature? 

Two things that are big 
and real—my lips. 


you really shouldn't have 


VALENTINE'S DAY GIFTS DECODED 


You think you're saying: These are 
beautiful, and so are you. 

She says: “Т always look forward to 
getting flowers on Valentine's Day." 

That means: Wow, a dozen roses once 
a year—don't strain yourself. 

Tragic ending: You buy her flowers a 
week later just to prove you can. She no 
longer expects flowers once a year; now 
it's once a week. 


You think you're saying: These are 
sweet, and so are you. 

She says: "Oh my goodness, that sure is a 
lot of chocolates.” 


Eyewitness 


You Had to 


Be There 


A scene from Playboy's 
pre-Super Bowl party: 

"This truly was an alter- 
native universe. A leggy 
Playmate was perched 
in the crescent moon, 
now securely hung from 
the rafters, while others 
staged pillow fights 
down below. Body paint 
as evening wear? Why 
not? In the party's VIP 
area, Alyssa Milano set- 
tled on a couch, canoo- 
dling with Entourage's 
Jeremy Piven while try- 
ing to be tactful with 
David Spade, who was 
being as annoying as he 
was on Just Shoot Me!" 

—from Allen St. John's The 
Billion Dollar Game, a new 
book about the Super Bowl 
and its associated madness 


That means: Don't you know I'm on a 
diet? You're a clueless ass. 

Tragic ending: She eats a single choco- 
late, merely to be polite, and you finish 
off the box yourself. 


You think you're saying: You're a sex god- 
dess, and I constantly fantasize about you. 
She says: "Whoa, these are pretty sexy.” 
That means: Whoa, these are pretty slutty. 
Tragic ending: You bought her the wrong 
size; body issues ensue. 


You think you're saying: I'm willing to 
consider being in this long-term. 
She says: "What a totally cute puppy! 


Oh my God! I love it! I absolutely love it!" 
That means: This puppy is adequately 
cute—and yes, I'll marry you. Shall I give 
you my ring size now? 

Tragic ending: You get laid that night, 
and you spend the next 12 years scooping 
up a lot of dog feces. 


You think you're saying: Happy VD! Get 
it? A little VD on VD? 

She says: After stunned silence and may- 
be a few tears, "That's really not funny" 
That means: Congratulations—you're 
not my boyfriend anymore! 

Tragic ending: You liked this one. Oops. 


15 


FTER HOURS 


Movie of the Month 
The International 


By Stephen Rebello 


In director Tom Tykwer's pulse pounder 
The International, Clive Owen, as an Inter- 
pol agent, and Naomi Watts, as a Manhat- 
tan assistant DA, traverse the globeto bring 
the world's biggest bank—whose tentacles 
are wrapped around conspiracy, murder, 
government destabilization and more—to 
justice, "This movie reminds me of the 
paranoid political thrillers of the 1970s, 
a time when many people mistrusted the 
government," says Owen, "Today we're in 
the middle of a frighteningly fragile eco- 
nomic period that is the result of relying 
on the banking community to police itself. 
The International is a fictional film, but 
it's relevant because it keeps pace with exquisitely directed shoot-out sequence 
that deepening sense of conspiracy and іп the Guggenheim Museum that is full of 
public fear." Owen asserts that his newest explosive action," he says. "Tom, a brilliant 
movie provides visceral thrills alongside director, can make a scene like this feel 
its topicality. "Everyone will talk about an completely real yet dazzlingly cinematic." 


Now Showing: Jennifer Aniston learns why in 
He's Just Not That Into You; Steve Martin returns 


in The Pink Panther 2; Chris Evans fights psychic 
espionage in Push. Read more at playboy.com. 


The reinvention of Friday the 13th features Jason Voorhees as the killer (it's his mom in the 1980 
M 0 \) | Е Е A С Ti 0 | D . slasher classic). Тһе 2009 version reportedly incorporates elements from the first four Friday movies, 


including the trademark hockey mask Jason started wearing їп 1982's Friday the 13th Part 3. 


Vicky Cristina Barcelona In Woody Allen's sexiest movie, two friends (Scar- 
lett Johansson, Rebecca Hall) fall for a Spanish painter (Javier Bardem) 
and get tangled up in a ménage à quatre with him and his ex-wife (Penélope 
Cruz). Best extra: None from Woody. (BD) YY Y —Robert B. DeSalvo 


TEASE FRAME 


Back in 2000 sultry British actress Rhona Mitra is still a little 

wet behind the ears in Hollow Man (pictured) just before she 

беек ЖЫГЫ i 2 O falls victim to Kevin Bacon's violent invisible touch. After 
ottle Shock Alan Rickman plays a snobby oenophile who ог "s Ni 

real-life 1976 Franco-Californian taste-off that turned the wine world on empowering herself with strong roles on FX's Nip/Tuck and 


its collective cork when the Yanks beat the French. Best extra: Featurette inthe postapocalyptic Doomsday, Mitra is ready to vamp it up 
16 on Napa winner Chateau Montelena. Y Y Y —Greg Fagan in the prequel Underworld: Rise of the Lycans. 


t 4 
ж. 
Also іп Gaming... 
THE RISE OF THE ARGONAUTS 
(360, PC, PS3) This blood-drenched 
retelling of Jason's journeys gives 
you an immense world and powerful 
allies (Hercules, Achilles and others) 
Sure, there are a few drawn-out, re- 


petitive quests, but on the whole it's 
an amusing, lusty, classically tinged 


diak 


8 


E 


PRINNY: CAN | REALLY BE THE 
HERO? (PSP) Prinnies are weird peg- 
legged penguins that contain karmi- 
cally rejected human souls and die 
easily. Luckily you have a thousand of 
them ready to sacrifice themselves to 
get you through this strangely en- 
dearing, extremely Japanese action 


The Cent of Fear 


| / 
JO le 


We sent 2008 Cyber Girl of the Year (and game 
expert) Jo Garcia to find out about 50 Cent's 
new offering, Blood on the Sand (360, PS3), 
from the man himself. 

Garcia: How is this different from your first 
game, Bulletproof? 

50 Cent: I was much more involved with creat- 
ing the ideas and concepts this time. When we 
started, I had just seen Blood Diamond, and I 
wanted Blood on the Sand to feel like that. 
Garcia: Is the gameplay different too? 

50 Cent: This one has vehicles in it, and I 
wanted that part to play like OutRun. 

Garcia: Any other influences? 

50 Cent: It's a collage. I wanted to make a 
game I would want to play. 

Garcia: Would you rather have Pacino or De Niro 
on your side in a battle? 

50 Cent: De Niro. AL has a bit of a back problem. 
You can't have that distracting you. 
Watch the video at playboy.com/games.. 


\ 
A Real Fun Guy Ў 


(Wii) places 
you in the middle of a war 
between anthropomorphic EN 
shrooms. Your sticky pseudo- > 7 
pod catapults you around the 7 
levels as you enjoy the blend of 
whimsy and violence. Finally, a 
Wii game that's actually worth 


it 


diversion, ¥¥¥ —Scott Steinberg platforming game. УУУУ —Chris Hudak playing. ¥¥¥% — —Scott Alexander 


Franz Ferdinand 


The Archduke’s Return 


It's tough being "tanz о! You invented a hybrid 
style of danceable rock so wildly popular it inspired a mil- 
lion new bands to take up your sound and push it into ever 
more electrofied forward-thinking places, leaving you to 
wonder whether, like a fish that could walk, you had been 
passed over by evolution and left ripe for extinction. The 
solution? On album three, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand, Alex 
Kapranos and company take another tilt at the indie dance 
floor. “Ulysses” kicks it off with bursts of bright Abba-like 
disco synth punctuating the band's signature stomp. “Live 
Alone” is straight-up Giorgio Moroder. Some songs are 
practically clips—Franz seems to drop a new one as fast 
as a DJ would switch tracks in a mix. By the time you 
reach the second four minutes of the lone epic, “Lucid 
Dreams,” and the buzzing acid-house blips and bleeps 
come in, you realize Franz is telling all those bands on Kit- 
suné Maison compilations, “Hey, you kids, we're still 
down.” Yes, they were there at the beginning; yes, they've 
learned lots about electronics in the meantime. The ques- 
tion, though, is whether this is just Grandpa tooling around 
with the kids’ toys while they're out at the clubs where the 
real action is. Well, sort of. The BPMs have come down a 
little, for instance, and the house-influenced hi-hats are 
gone. But it still sounds damn good. And Grandpa's LP 
bears repeated listening better than those by many flavor- 
of-the-month bands. —Tim Mohr 


on 
ERS! 


Am 
8057! 


boy.com. 


FTER HOURS 


18 


Rock-and-Roll Hoochie Koo 


Some Bands Have All the Luck 


Hard rockers Hinder recently took sexy album art to the next level with the "X-rated" edition of 
their CD Take It to the Limit. Six nude Playboy models lurk in the background of the cover 
photo, and the interior art shows band members partying with the girls, who are in states of 


undress, What was it like on 
the set? We got the details 
from Brandie Moses, Lana 
Kinnear and Jo Garcia. 

Brandie: I had never shot 
nude with guys before, so 
I was very nervous. Lana: 
Having the other five girls 
there made me more com- 
fortable. Jo: I walked in 
with my guard up, prepared 
for a complete nightmare. 
Brandie: The guys were 
extremely nice—a little 
shy, even. Jo: Once we got 
started we realized they 
were as scared as little 
schoolboys. We were hold- 
ing the reins. Brandie: But 
they loosened up. I think 
the alcohol helped. Lana: 
Everything in the pictures 
is real. It was a big party in 
the middle of the day, with 
drinks flowing. Brandie: 


There's one picture of my pink bra flying through the air. Some- 
thing about musicians makes girls want to shed their clothes. 
Lana: At one point I was talking to their manager, Chief, wearing 


nothing but a vest. No bottoms, boobs out, and I was asking if I could keep the vest on 
for the shot. As if that mattered! Jo: Through it all, the guys were complete gentlemen. 


Maybe they wouldn't want us to say that, but it's the truth. 


Playboy TV's Show Us Your Wits 


What's it like being a contestant on the trivia-and-strippers 
program Show Us Your Wits? Let us take you through it... 
Question: Who painted the Sistine Chapel ceiling? 
Easy as pie! Although it is a bit distracting that the lingerie- 
clad questioner is Playmate Daphnee Duplaix. Concentrate. 
Question: What chronic neurological disorder is 
characterized by sudden attacks of sleeping? 
There's a girl named Jazmine sitting on your lap, wear- 
ing a tiny bikini. Note the tautness of her buttocks and 
the light dusting of glitter. You're having a sudden attack 
of wakefulness in your pants. Concentrate. 

Question: What variety of apple shares a name 
with Japan's highest mountain? 

Jazmine is no longer wearing a bikini. She is fully naked and 
looming over you. How about them apples. Concentrate. 
Question: What bourbon-based cocktail is the 
traditional beverage at the Kentucky Derby? 
Bottoms up. You notice a small tattoo—a word you can't 
quite make out—on Jazmine's coccyx. Concentrate. 
Question: What TV chef makes "30-Minute Meals"? 
Jazmine's coccyx tattoo is one inch from your eyes, but you 
still can't read it, not with her bobbing up and down like that. 
Tt sure as hell doesn't say RACHAEL RAY, so you won't be get- 
ting this question right, either. Time's up, Ken Jennings. 
Catch Show Us Your Wits Saturday nights on Playboy TV. 


In the Club 


CGOY 2009: 
Who Will Win? 


Since the dawn of time—or at 
least since 2002—there have 
been only seven Cyber Girls of 
the Year. The inaugural winner 
was Erika Michelle Barré, who 
reigned until Merritt Cabal 
(above), the pride of Harahan, 
Louisiana, was named CGOY 
2003. Soon CGOY 2008 Jo Gar- 
cia will cede the limelight to one 
ofthe 12 Cyber Girls of the Month 
vying to be CGOY 2009. Meet the 
winner at club.playboy.com. 


Game On 


SUPER BOWL XLIII will last about four 
hours. What will you do the rest of the 
weekend? Start here... Tampa's best 
steak house: BERN'S, one of the country's 
greatest. The strip sirloin weighs 3.75 
pounds (bernssteakhouse.com). Strip 
club: MONS VENUS. Touching is as en- 
couraged as tipping (monsvenus.com) 
Dive bar: THE HUB (813-229-1553). 
Late-night food: MEMA'S ALASKAN 
TACOS—open till three A.M. (813-242- 
8226). Cocktail lounge: BLUE MARTINI 
(bluemartinilounge,com). Happy hour: 
MACDINTON'S, from five Р.м, to seven 
P.M, (macdintons.com). Hangover break- 
fast: LENNY'S RESTAURANT, where the 
bacon is so good you can smell it from the 
stadium (727-799-0402). 


Holy Smoke 


Ybor City, a historic Tampa 
neighborhood, was settled by 
cigar makers 120 years ago. 
You can still walk down Sev- 
enth Avenue and see workers 
hand-assembling masterpieces 
at King Corona, Metropolitan 
and Gonzalez y Martinez. Our 
choice: El Sol (elsolcigars 
.com), a smoky storefront 
opened in 1929 by Guy and 
Mary Saitta, both master roll- 
ers. Today it's run by th 
grandson Bob. 


SHAKEN AND STIRRED 


We found Krystel Di Cristanziano behind 
the bar at. Jackson's Bistro, on the water 
). Turns out her twin, 
Shamyl, also bartends there. So, Krystel, 
сап people tell you and your sister apart? 


People always get us mixed up 
because we're pretty much identical. Once 
they get to know us they can differenti- 
ate, because we're total opposites, 
PLAYBOY: What's the worst 
pickup line you've heard 
on the job? 

When a guy asks if he. 
can buy me a drink. Duh! I can 
make my own! 


PLAYBOY: Best pickup line? 


No pickup line works 

on me. I'm tough! 

PLAYBOY: What's your specialty? 
Marasca fizz. Toss 

three cherries, a little grenadine, 

two brown-sugar cubes, a 

couple of dashes of bitters and a 

shot of black cherry liqueur 

in a champagne flute. Then 

fill the rest with champagne. 

My favorite is Dom Pérignon 

PLAYBOY: Of course it is. 

Favorite football team? 


I'macrazy Bucs 
fan! Go, Bucs! 


"No pickup 
line works on 
me, I'm tough." 


AW DATA 


47% OF MARIE CLAIRE READERS 
SAY THEY TELL A LIE ONE ТО > 
THREE TIMES EVERY DAY. | 


Gap between the median sala- PRICE LISTED IN THE NEIMAN 
ries of a law-school graduate MARCUS CATALOG TO HAVE A 
($106,120) and Joe Bachelor's LIFE-SIZE REPLICA OF YOURSELF 
Degree ($47,240), according to BUILT WITH LEGOS. 

figures from The Wall Street 
Journal. That's almost enough 
to buy a life-size replica of your- 
self built with Legos (see right) 


every year of your career. All you ы (lÎ Sum paid at auction for a 

have to do is be really smart and 1 7 3 u | | self-portrait drawn by Kate 

possibly sell your soul. 1) bh ‚л |? Moss in red lipstick. 
ا‎ 


Shake it all you 
want, girls— THE AVERAGE AGE OF A WOMAN GETTING 
just try not to BREAST IMPLANTS IS 34. 90% OF WOMEN 
end up with WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEY'VE HAD KIDS. 
your ass in a sling. From 1982 to 
2007 two thirds of serious athletic 
injuries or deaths among young 
women in sports activities were 
suffered by cheerleaders. à ^ 


47 BOOKS CURRENTLY IN 
PRINT CONTAIN THE NAME 


22% OF MARRIED WOMEN SAID OF BUSINESSMAN WARREN 
THAT IF THEY COULD GO BACK BUREBTDONITEIELSOVER 
IN TIME THEY WOULD CHOOSE И 
A DIFFERENT HUSBAND, WHILE 23° OF AMERICAN 
ONLY 12% OF MARRIED MEN AD- er 
ж MITTED THEY HAD PICKED EO RE ME. ] 
(Reg THE WRONG WIFE. 
7 = OCTOBER Addicted to lip balm? You're 
EAI a not alone. Sales of the crack- 
E \ МА МЕ; 2008 WAS ДЫ have increased 
V from $239 million in 2004 
B Tz "RE KING: IAMI'S FIRST to $378 million in 2007. 
CESS А URDER-FREE 


MONTH IN 
42 YEARS. 


ONE SAMURAI ROAMS 

DO ۹ THE LAND WITH A 

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PLAYBOY'S 


SEXY 
2009 


CALENDARS 


A. A gorgeous 
beauty any month you choose. 
January through December show- 
cases the beauty and tempting 
assets of the hottest Playmates. 


PB-6600000 
PLAYMATE WALL CALENDAR 
Measures 11” x 17”. $9.99 


B. Treat yourself every 
month. Start each month in 2009 
with a beautiful photo of your fa- 
vorite personality from Playboy's 
The Girls Next Door. There are 
12 hot shots in this wall calendar 
featuring fun scenes and provoc- 
ative photos of Kendra Wilkin- 
son, Holly Madison and Bridget 
Marquardt. 


PB-6600002 GIRLS NEXT DOOR 
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Measures 12" x 12". $14.99 


PB-6600003 GIRLS NEXT DOOR 
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sz: MANTRACK 


C DRINKS :: TECHNOLOGY :: FASHION | 


Getting Steamy 


These purpose-built winter warmers should see you through to gin season. From left: Evening Extender: Irish Coffee. The steak was huge 
and the cheesecake unnecessary, but the night must go on. Here's how: In a mug, mix two ounces of Irish whiskey with a teaspoon of brown 
sugar, then fill to an inch below the rim with hot coffee, Float three tablespoons of half-whipped cream (do not use canned) on top. A Cure 
for the Common Cold: Hot Toddy. You're in no shape for a party, so find a blanket, a Billy Wilder movie and one of these. Mix two ounces of 
bourbon, scotch or brandy with a tablespoon of raw honey, the juice of half a lemon and six ounces of boiling water. Stir with a cinnamon stick. 
Breakfast Special: Hot Bullshot. Hungover in ski country? Not anymore. Mix four ounces of hot beef bouillon, two ounces of vodka, a tea- 
spoon of Worcestershire sauce, a pinch of celery salt, a dash of Tabasco, the juice of a quarter of a lime and pepper to taste. Après-Ski: Hot 
Buttered Rum. Speed, snow and adrenaline take it out of you. Fat, sugar and rum put it back in. Make a butter batter by creaming one stick 
of unsalted butter, two cups of brown sugar, a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, half a teaspoon of nutmeg, a pinch of ground cloves and a pinch 
of salt. Then toss two tablespoons of the batter into a mug, add two ounces of dark rum and stir in six ounces of boiling water (or cider). 


So Touching 


Your iPhone is ringing, 
but it's 10 below. Do you 


When a lady asks. 
forthe time, she's 


sacrifice your hands or 
your friendship? Neither. 
You just use your Dots 
Gloves ($20, dotsgloves 
.com). The brass finger- 
tips conduct the electric 
charge your skin carries, 
which in turn allows you 
to operate the touch 
Screens on phones, ATMs 
and other gadgets. 


really asking for some 
of yours. Deck yourself 
out with a pair of Retro 

Deco Thermometer Watch cuff 
links ($210, cufflinks.com) to make sure 

you don't fumble the opportunity. Made of rhodium- 
plated silver with Roaring Twenties styling, one 
contains a working watch, the other a thermometer 
(alas, in Celsius, not Fahrenheit). When she wonders 
why her nipples are erect, you'll be able to tell her it's 
27 degrees in here—so it must be your cologne. 


23 


24 


TECHNOLOGY :: SPORT :: PAD 


Women obsess about the perfect little black dress. We ob- 
sess about the perfect little black laptop. Don't look now, 
but we think the Voodoo Envy 133 (from $1,900, voodoopc 
сот) may be the One. Impossibly svelte at 7 inches thick, 
it's made of carbon fiber, weighs just over three pounds 
and is filled with smart tech, such as a power brick that 
doubles as a Wi-Fi router. Plus, it has an instant-on OS that 
boots before Windows and gets you to music, the Web and 
Skype ina flash—which means it’s ready to party anytime, 
just like our favorite little-black-dress girls. 


Babes on Boards 


We love snowboards because they double as artistic canvases. They help you 
make a statement on the slopes even if you can't pull off a backside 540 stalefish. 
This season Burton's making the world a prettier place by covering its rides with 
our favorite kind of art. Its Love series ($430, burton.com) features Cheryl Bach- 
man (Miss October 1991), Carol Vitale (Miss July 1974), Teri Peterson (Miss July 
1980, pictured near right) and Sandy Johnson (Miss June 1974, far right), Take 
your pick. Just don't let her distract you from that 40-foot lip coming up. 


Ryan Frank's Inkuku chair ($3,100, ryanfrank.net) may look like а 
nouveau cream puff, but it's decidedly secondhand. The padding 
that swells from every surface is made of plastic shopping bags 
that toted eggs, milk and bananas into hundreds of homes be- 
fore being pressed into service to cushion your behind. Add the 
recycled-aluminum frame and you have a chair that has been 
around the block even when it's fresh out of the box. 


John Mellencamp's latest release Life, Death, Love, 
and Freedom available now at eMusic.com. 


әсе 
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26 


| Н L IE v 
BY PHIL KNIGHT 


PHIL KNIGHT 15 CO-FOUNDER AND CHAIRMAN OF NIKE. 


he year was 1980. We 

were number three in 

branded U.S. athletic- 
shoe sales. Our best-selling 
shoe was the Waffle Trainer. 
Michael Jordan was a senior at 
Laney High School in Wilming- 
ton, North Carolina. 

We believed the rules were 
set by those who already con- 
trolled the game, so we had 
to figure out a way to leapfrog 
the competition. We came 
up with an audacious idea: 
beat the competition to the 
People's Republic of China, 
for both a source and a mar- 
ket (the land of 2 billion feet, 
don't you know). 

| had one request of my 
teammates: "Help me get 
Hayes on the plane." 

Del Hayes was the man who 
had trained me at Price Water- 
house. Fresh out of school, 
with the dream of starting 
an athletic-shoe company, | 
had been looking around to 
find individuals | could learn 
from. Hayes was one of those 
people who did everything his 
own way but wound up being 
very effective. 

Back then he tipped the 
scales at 275 pounds, spread 
over six feet, two inches, and 
he tended to slouch when 
he was thinking, which was 
often. It wasn't just the weight 
he battled. He had a few pho- 
bias: flying, water, heights— 
certain foods, although not 
enough of those. 

He needed to smoke two 
packs of cigarettes a day. Once, 
during a particularly tense 
audit, he had one cigarette in 
his mouth, one in his fingers 
and one in the ashtray. 

After hours he liked to sit 
around and tell stories, and 
frequently a bunch of us 
would wander over from the 
junior room to listen. This 
earned him the nickname 
Uncle Remus. 

They were stories about 
other companies, other 
audits; you learned about 
their business, not just their 
ledger. These moments were 
always punctuated by the 
humorous side of events, 
and someplace in there was 
always a lesson. 

If he had had time to think 
about it, going to China would 
have made the phobia list. 

Walking on the tarmac to 
the worn-out immigration 


building in Beijing, we were 
all a little uptight. 

Our invitation to apply for 
visas had taken 10 months to 
obtain. America's recognition 
of China was only one year 
old, and the whole nation had 
been sealed off for more than a 
quarter century. For most of our 
adult lives none of us dreamed 
we would one day go there. 

Customs clearance was in a 
run-down room with partitions, 
not walls, The six of us—Rob 
Strasser, Harry Carsh, Neil 
Lauridsen, David Chang, Del 
Hayes and I, all of whom loved 
the competition of business 
but were by no means “corpo- 
rate types" —shuffled uneas- 
ily. The agent looking through 
Hayes's luggage expressed 
some surprise, which drew the 
rest of the group's attention. 
On the top layer of Hayes's 
suitcase: 12 quarts of vodka. 

He turned to the rest of us 
and said, "You guys are on 
your own." 

Once in the country we 
were assigned different 
"guides" in different cities, 
and each guesthouse also 
had a "note taker." They all 
wore gray Mao jackets and 
stern countenances. 

During our 12-day trip the 
government hosts insisted we 
spend one day taking in the 
magnificent tourist sites. If 
we were nervous about being 
in China, it wasn't as though 
the Chinese were comfort- 
able with us. 

In Tiananmen Square, 
home of the giant Mao por- 
trait, the Forbidden City and 
the Great Hall of the People, 
we saw hundreds of men 
and women in Mao suits and 
flimsy black shoes. Some 
children wore canvas sneak- 
ers. There was hope for the 
sport-shoe industry—sort of. 
Much of our sightseeing was 
done in reverse: Everyone was 
staring at us, then pointing, 
probably because our Western 
clothes contrasted so sharply 
with their Mao suits. Plus, 
Strasser and Hayes weighed 
in at 350 pounds each. 

There was a sameness to 
every day. In addition to the 
factory tours there would be a 
banquet for lunch and dinner, 
hosted by a different factory 
or governmental organiza- 
tion in each city. Along with 


(text concluded on page 111) 


TWO TIPSY FEMALE 


STRANGERS AND THE 
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT 


SEE SUZY MCCOPPIN'S VIDEO LOGS AT PLAYBOY.COM. 


one-night stand is like the 
A Super Bowl. It doesn't matter 

how hard you work to get to 
the big show or how gracefully you 
handle the pregame jitters. There will 
be only one winner. There will be a 
walk of fame and a walk of shame. 
One person will do interviews and 
boast of the victory, and the other will 
try to pretend it never happened. 

| had my first one-night stand with 
a woman, which is odd when you con- 
sider I'm straight. | was a sophomore 
at New York University, after having 
grown up in suburban Michigan. | 
had always been bi-curious, but up 
until that night in 1996 my sexual 
résumé consisted of one boyfriend 
and two years of missionary. In the 
years since, I've made it a point to 
experience everything. | tried (fairly 
unsuccessfully) to become a stripper. 
| became an actress and 
appeared nude in a reverse 
cowgirl scene with Adrian 
Grenier on HBO's Entou- 
rage. It all started with a 
simple kiss with a woman 
who's out there somewhere 
today, doing God knows 
what. That's another thing 
about a one-night stand: It 
can change one person's 
life forever, and the other 
may never know. 

It was midnight, and | 
was on my second cos- 
mopolitan at Spy Bar, the 
hippest hot spot in SoHo. BY 
Social X-rays mingled 
with Eurotrash to a Diddy 
soundtrack back when he 
was still Puffy. She saw 
me first. | can't remember 
her name; let's just call 
her Svetlana. She was a Russian six- 
footer wearing lethal knee-high sti- 
letto boots. | caught an accent when 
she said hello. There was the opening 
kick; the game was under way. 

"Are you model?" she asked, leer- 
ing at me from beneath a canopy of 
lashes. It was a corny come-on. But 
at that moment | was as gullible as 
the guy in the Scores champagne 
room who believes Destiny actually 
likes him and she's paying her way 
through law school. 

"No, I'm an actress,” | said. Trying 
to be an actress, at the time. “I work 
at T.G.l. Friday's in Times Square." 

"Vould you like dance?" 

Dirty dancing ensued. Her hands 
traveled to my lower back and over 
my ass, which was tucked into the 
tightest jeans | owned. The inner 
dialogue began: How's my breath? 
Where do my hands go? Another 
drink, another dance. My heart 
started to pound when she asked 


MCCC 


SUZY 


if | would go home with her. The 
sapphic gods were aligning, and 
the butterflies in my stomach were 
break-dancing. When we reached her 
Tribeca apartment, she planted her 
succulent pout on mine. | silently 
protested. I'm an Irish Catholic girl 
from the Midwest. | can't lez out! 

An uncomfortable realization 
tugged at me. My bi-curiousness was 
fueled by nothing but narcissism. | 
didn't want to go down on a girl; | 
just wanted to be cool. As this woman 
began to disrobe me, | started scram- 
bling for an exit strategy. Then some- 
thing grabbed me, something that 
has never let go. | came to another 
realization: Chicks are hot, 

We found our groove, and she 
slipped my pants over my hips. Svet- 
lana was a masterful multitasker. | 
was certain she could pat her head 
and rub her stomach at 
the same time (and mine, 
for that matter). | was 
sprawled out on a couch 
now, and she was kneel- 
ing between my legs, her 
blonde mane grazing my 
sunshine spot. And then 
she was devouring me 
like | was a cherry Blow 
Pop. What's the differ- 
ence between me and a 
cherry Blow Pop? A Blow 
Pop doesn't have multiple 
orgasms. | was so high 
from the climax that | 
didn't balk. When a woman 
goes down on another 
woman, even for the first 
time, she has an intuition 
no man can. | was doing 
to her what | would do to 
myself if | could pop off 
my head, clutch it between my legs 
and put it back when | was finished. 

In the morning | awoke, confident 
| had found a loophole in the one- 
night-stand equation. We were two 
women; we were on the same team. 
Certainly we'd understand each 
other. On my way to the Lexington 
Avenue 6 line, | was confident I'd be 
calling her the next day. But | didn't. 
1 wouldn't. | couldn't. By the time 
the fifth day passed, she'd called me 
a dozen times. She didn't know the 
post-one-night-stand rule: If you call 
someone once and they don't call 
back, it's possible they didn't get the 
message. But if you've called some- 
one 12 times and they haven't called 
back, it is you, my friend, who has 
not gotten the message. 

Of course the sex was amazing, 
but it was time to move on. | felt 
triumphant and liberated. I'd had 
my cake and eaten her, too. New 
adventures awaited. 


)PPIN 


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| have no problem kissing my 
boyfriend after he goes down 
on me, but he's repulsed if I 
try to kiss him after giving him 
head. He says it's gross and just 
wrong. What does the Advisor 
think?—K.L., Cleveland, Ohio 

We assume you're not surprising 
him with a mouthful of sugary love. 
Even so, a guy will be hard-pressed 
to have a woman finish her work 
with style if he projects cootie vibes 
about his own recipe. (The same can 
be said for a woman veluctant to kiss 
the glazed doughnut that used to 
be her partner's face.) Although we 
doubt you'll be able to change your 
boyfriend's attitude overnight, the 
best approach may be humor. Next 
time, pull breath spray from under 
the covers and take a hit before ask- 
ing, "How about a kiss?" Or make a 
big production of wiping your mouth 
and face with a wet wipe. Or dig a 
supersize bottle of mouthwash from 
under the bed and gargle. With any 
luck, he'll lighten up. 


1 love dirty martinis, but I run 
out of olive juice long before I run 
out of olives. Is there any place I 
can buy bottles of juice?—S.P, 
Satellite Beach, Florida 

You bet there. visit olivejuicefor 
sale.com or phone 904-220-6147. 
Six years ago a friend introduced 
Jebb and Mary Walter to dirty 
martinis. The couple was instantly 
hooked but had the same problem 
you do—a shortage of juice, the salty 
water olives are soaked in to make 
them less bitter and soft enough 
to pit. Unable to find olive juice 
online, they set uf their own shop. 
By 2005 they were getting so many 
orders, Mary quit her job to sell juice 
full-time. The Walters stock seven 
brands: four mixes that taste like 
olive juice and three (including their 
oun label, Oliver's Twist) made with 
brine purchased from growers. For 
the vecord, the classic dirty martini 
is four ounces of gin or vodka, half 
an ounce of dry vermouth and a tea- 
spoon of olive juice (or more, if you prefer it 
saltier). Jepp notes a proper dirty martini is 
garnished with at least two stuffed olives. 


What percentage of men are “growers” 
versus "showers"? I’m a grower—my flac- 
cid penis looks like a pinkie but expands 
to a decent-size erection. I'm not about to 
ask guys at my health club to make them- 
selves hard, so I thought I'd go to the 
Advisor.—A.S., Detroit, Michigan 

You've come to the right place. Scientists have 
never found any correlation between a man's 
flaccid and erect sizes at any age; some guys 
expand as little as a quarter inch, while others 
bloom like spring flowers. An analysis of data 
collected by Alfred Kinsey found that about seven 
percent of men are extreme growers, who double 


PLAYBOY 
ADVI 


y wife always asks for lingerie as a gift. She even goes 
with me to pick it out. But she wears it only once, if at all, 
before she goes back to her flannel nightgown. How can 
I get her to come to bed in lingerie more often, since she 
seems to prefer the old stuff?—J.G., Stillwater, Oklahoma 
Like many women, your wife doesn't see lingerie as sleep- 
wear; it’s for special occasions. So create more special 
occasions. One strategy is flat-out bribery: Tell your wife 
that anytime she surprises you by coming to bed in lingerie 
(or nothing at all), she will receive a complimentary 15- 
minute oil massage. It can’t be done through flannel. 


in size, while 12 percent are extreme showers, 
who expand only a third of their total length or 
less. Regardless of where they begin, most men 
end up at five to seven inches erect, Archae- 
ologist Timothy Taylor suggests females during 
the era after bipedalism and before loincloths 
may have interpreted flaccid size as a symbol of 
strength and fertility. But that was years ago. 


A reader wondered in October if beauti- 
ful women get asked out a lot or if men 
tend to be intimidated. You said hot 
women are hit on all the time, even if 
they may not realize it—which is true. 
But there is a downside. I’m an attractive 
blonde with a great figure, and 1 am ap- 
proached everywhere I go. Whether in a 
grocery line or at a coffee shop, strang- 


ers expect me to be receptive. I 
thank the men who compliment 
me and tell those who are per- 
sistent that I’m married, which 
I am. Most are gracious, but 
some become downright rude, 
using words like bitch or whore. I 
also get negative reactions from 
women who seem envious of the 
power they imagine I possess. 
Everyone thinks women who are 
fortunate enough to be attractive 
have it made, but beautiful single 
women can be some of the lone- 
liest people you'll meet.—C. 
Kent, Washington 

We appreciate getting your perspec- 
tive. As you may expect, most people 
won't be sympathetic to your misery of 
abundance, "When we meet beauti- 
ful people, we don't care about their 
hard-luck stories,” writes Nancy Fri- 
day in The Power of Beauty. “We wish 
we'd had a chance to have that face, 
that body.” Your response—to deny the 
power of your beauty—is a common 
defense mechanism when admiration 
turns to envy. Many of the men you 
encounter certainly wish they were 
attractive enough to command your 
attention as you did theirs. However, 
those who react with “whore” or “bitch” 
when they fail have deeper problems 


| found a way to keep my hus- 
band from surfing for px 
From another room, I give him 
a personal sex show via webcam. 
However, I am concerned about 
the security of my nightly pe 
formances. Could someone els 
be enjoying the show? I wouldn't 
want to find out I'm broadcasting 
to the neighbors.—K.S., Char- 
lotte, North Carolina 

That's an inspired idea; however, 
if your husband is like most men, he'll 
still surf when you're off-line. He's 
looking for variety, not a stand-in. 
As long as you enable encryption on 
‘your wireless network and use a web- 
cam that supports WPA or WPA2- 
Personal encryption, it's unlikely you 
will be providing any supplementary 
orgasms, But if you send data over the Net 
via videoconferencing software, it could travel 
halfway across the country and bach, leaving it 
more vulnerable. On the bright side, a leaking 
signal could lead to a lucralive new career: 


1 hate to have my wrists and forearms 
covered (it took me a long time to feel 
comfortable wearing a watch), so 1 roll 
up the sleeves of my dress shirts and 
push up the sleeves of turtlenecks and 
sweaters. I've even been known to push 
up linen jacket sleeves. Aside from star- 
ring on Miami Vice, is there a way to pull 
this off?—G.S., Seattle, Washington 

We all love the liberating feeling of rolling up 
our sleeves, but it works only for students and at 
cockfights. You should never bare your forearms 


29 


PLAYBOY 


30 


in the office or at a formal affair. On another 
fashion note, a reader in November asked about 
fixing damage a cheap hanger caused to his 
leather blazer. M.H. of Aurora, Illinois writes, 
“I looked all over for hangers that would not 
damage my jackets or knit shirts and finally 
found Precision Hangers (precisionhangers 
.com), which have a unique design I hadn't seen. 
before. I bought a couple, and they work." 


1 need your advice on something I con- 
sider risky and probably dumb. I have 
always found one of my wife's sisters at- 
tractive, and judging by the looks I get 
from her, she feels the same about me. 1 
have fantasized for years about fucking 
her, but I wouldn't want to hurt my wife 
or piss off my sister-in-law’s husband, 
whom I consider a friend. At the same 
time, you only live once. Should I go for 
it or avoid her?—G.B., Tampa, Florida 

How about option C, which is lo recognize 
this as a fantasy—one of many that pop into 
your hormone-addled mind on any given day— 
and leave it at that? You don't want to go there, 
for the reasons you state, and we won't provide 
‘you with a permission slip. 


A reader wrote in November that his 
wife had changed her mind about not 
wanting children, and he feared she 
would stop taking the pill. I have two 
words for him: secret vasectomy, His wife 
could then try to collect all the DNA she 
wants.—Z.H., Richmond, California 

Even if the reader's wife didn't notice his 
swollen balls, he would be taking the same deceit- 
ful approach he fears she may, and that can't be 
good for the marriage in the long term. Better to 
hash it out than to create competing lies. 


I purchased a nine-millimeter pistol from 
a friend, and he gave me several rounds 
of year-old ammo. Do rounds have a shelf 
life? —K.W., Sevierville, Tennessee 

Assuming the ammo isn't damaged and your 
friend stored it іп а cool, dry place, it’s good to 
go. Although ammo can last indefinitely under 
optimal conditions, manufacturers such as Rem- 
ington recommend taking extra caution with bul- 
lets that are more than 10 years old. Many police 
departments and shooting ranges will dispose of 
old or damaged ammo. You can also purchase а 
bullet puller to disassemble the shells. 


My boyfriend feels the need to scratch 
his butt, balls and armpits and then smell 
his fingers. This habit has progressed to 
his scratching himself and making me 
smell his fingers. Now he's scratching me 
and smelling his fingers. What is going. 
on? Are all men like this, or should I be 
worried?—$.N., Clifton, New Jersey 

Few men who still have girlfriends are like 
this. We suggest you find a partner who has 
gone through puberty. 


What is it called when two women rub 
their pussies together? It turns me on, 
but I'm not sure what keyword to search 
for online.—J.B., Mesa, Arizona 

It's called tribbing, from tribadism, a 


centuries-old word that until the mid-1960s 
meant lesbianism in general bul now refers spe- 
cifically to scissors sex. The only other primates 
knoum to engage in this type of frottage are 
female bonobo monkeys. Small world. 


A former co-worker sent me a request to 
add him as a friend on Facebook, but I 
don't want to be his friend online or off. I 
hit IGNORE, but he has since sent two new 
requests. To avoid adding fuel to the fire, 
I would prefer not to block him. What is 
the etiquette for this—three iGNoRrs, then 
a block? Or should I keep hitting IGNORE 
until he gives up?—R.L., Tampa, Florida 
The passive-aggressive approach is to set 
him in amber; as long as you don't accept 
or ignore his friend request, he can't make 
another. The more agonizing dilemma is what 
to do when you're ambivalent. Facebook notes 
that if you reject a request, the person isn't noti- 
fied bút your silence is notification enough. “At 
the heart of the problem is the word "friend, " 
writes Jack Malvern of The Times of London. 
"When people set up Facebook accounts they 
search for their genuine friends. It is only days 
or weeks later that real friendship and Face- 
book friendship begin to diverge. Each succes- 
sive request from odious former colleagues and 
erstuhile girlfriends stretches the definition of 
friend’ to a breaking point.” If you'd rather 
nol share your personal jottings with a long- 
lost acquaintance, your account's privacy set- 
tings allow you to restrict access. You can also 
remove your name from search results, 


What is your definition of player? I know 
some guys who had that reputation but 
were married by the age of 25. Today 1 
don'tknow many guys who seem to qual- 
ify, and my friends say the same, —C.G., 
Barto, Pennsylvania 

A player is a man or woman of any age 
who has sex with a number of partners with- 
out the intention of developing an emotional 
relationship. But players often end up being 
ambushed—they тегі someone who, for reasons 
they can't explain, puts their heart and head in 
conflict. When trying to identify players, keep. 
in mind that anyone who claims to be one isn't. 
Real players don't talk about their game. In fact, 
we've already said too much. 


lam dating a woman who can arouse 
me so easily that whenever we're to- 
gether my boxers get wet with precome. 
Will this frequent secretion affect my 
health?—K.C., Toronto, Ontario 

Not at all. It's wonderful she has that effect. 
However we suggest you never say "You make 
me so wet.” That's her line. 


Га like to buy a motorcycle and am con- 
sidering two models. One has a 250 cc en- 
gine with a single cylinder, and the other 
has a 250 cc engine with two 125 cc cylin- 
ders. Does one offer an advantage, or is 
ita matter of personal style?—O.K., New 
York, New York 

Single-cylinder engines are called thumpers 
for a reason—the cylinder goes up and down 
and the bike jumps. Twin. cylinders provide a 


more subtle vibration—two tiny pistons move 
more quickly than a single larger one—and а 
faster-revving engine, which helps with delivery 
of power. Manufacturers have been churning 
out more double-cylinder bikes lately; BMW 
recently retired its 650 single for a 650 twin. 
"The advantage of a thumper is it's easier to 
work on and gives you better gas mileage,” says 
our motorcycle writer; James Petersen. “But with 
modern motorcycles there are no bad choices." 


M, wife found my collection of adult 
DVDs. She isn't upset but thinks I should 
get rid of it before the kids find it. I agree 
but am not sure how. Are there sites 
that buy used porn? Some of these discs 
weren't cheap.—B.L., Lincoln, Nebraska 

Like a new car, a porn DVD is worth a 
whole lot less once you drive it off the lot. You 
can recover some of your investment with free 
listings at adultdudmarketplace.com or adult 
dudempire.com. If a DVD sells, the sites take 
a 15 percent commission plus a listing fee of 
50 or 75 cents. The buyer pays the postage, 
and you ship the product directly. Both services 
also sell secondhand (literally) discs; ADM lists 
more than 300,000, starting at $2 each. Alter- 
natively, you could donate your stash to the 
Muse Foundation, which is building an archive 
of adult DVDs, videos, books, magazines and 
other items at the Museum of Sex in New York. 
In return, you get the satisfaction of deducting 
porn on your tax return, See museumofsex.com/ 
support/donations. The curator will want to see 
an inventory before you mail anything. 


What is the Advisor's favorite chili reci- 
pe?—D.W., Minneapolis, Minnesota 
We're always up for some white chili, which is 
easy to prepare and has gotten us laid three times 
(so far)—though you should never discount our 
general charm and the persuasive power of a 
strong margarita. Slice four chicken breasts into 
strips and sauté with one bunch of sliced green 
onions and a diced ved pepper in a small amount 
of oil until the chicken is thoroughly cooked. Add. 
a large jar of great northern beans, a can of 
sliced black olives, one half to one and a half cups 
of salsa (to taste) and a sliced brick of jalapeno- 
pepper cheese. Heat thoroughly. Serves four. 


When my wife slipped off her panties 
and flashed me in a bookstore I almost 
ejaculated. Can you tell me why this is so 
arousing?—J.W., Yucaipa, California 

Yes—your wife is a total slut. God bless her. 
Now gel her between the covers al home. 


АШ reasonable questions —from fashion, food 
and drink, stereos and sports cars to dating 
dilemmas, taste and etiquette—will be per- 
sonally answered if the writer includes a 
self-addressed, stamped envelope. The most 
interesting, pertinent questions will be pre- 
sented in these pages each month. Write the 
Playboy Advisor, 730 Fifth Avenue, New 
York, New York 10019, or send e-mail by vis- 
iting our website at playboyadvisor.com. Our 
greatest-hits collection, Dear Playboy Advisor, 
is available in bookstores and online. 


"unis HUGH LAURIE 


A candid conversation with the actor behind TV’s grouchiest character about Brits 
versus Yanks, his conflicted view of success and why we love a misanthrope 


Not often does someone become a star by pl 
ing an unlikable curmudgeon week after miser- 
able week. But that’s what happened to Hugh 
Laurie with House, the phenomenally popular 
medical drama on which he has turned the 
limping, pill-popping misanthrope Dr. Gregory 
House into one of the most memorable and 
oddly appealing characters on TV 


With shades of Sherlock Holmes by way of 


Hawkeye Pierce on a crabby day, House isn't 
out to heal the world or make patients happy. 
He doesn't have a soft spot for kids and old 
ladies, and he would rather watch monster- 
truck jams than read a stupid CT scan. No 
matter how antisocial he is, no matter how 
bitter (his favorite diagnosis is “The patient is 
lying”), House inevitably saves the day—even 
when it kills him to. 

But those are mere character tics. What really 
separates House is Laurie's star quality. Unlike 
almost every other hit drama series now—Lost, 
E.R., Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, 
Heroes, the CSI trilogy—this one isn't about the 
ensemble cast. House is about House the way 
Kojak was about Kojak and All in the Fam- 
ily was about Archie. Okay, yes, there's Kiefer 
Sutherland on 24, but nobody holds together a 
top drama quite the way Laurie does. 

Watching him rattle off American medical 
speak week after week, it's easy to forget Laurie 
is British. Born in Oxford, England in 1959, 


“I think being moody is part of my nature. 
Though looking lack, I think I am much less 
moody and depressed now than when I was 
25. Gradually Гое mellowed. I was probably 
depressed all ihe time back then.” 


he is the youngest of four children. His mother 
died following a lengthy illness shortly before 
Laurie turned 30, and his father, a physician 
who won an Olympic gold medal for rowing, 
died just before Laurie landed House. 

A national youth rowing champion himself, 
Laurie contemplated an athletic career but let 
those dreams go after being sidelined by a nasty 
case of mononucleosis while at Cambridge 
University. He took up acting instead and 
was soon part of a talented circle that included 
Emma Thompson, whom he briefly dated, and 
Stephen Fry, who became his comedy partner. 
No highlight reel of U.K. comedy from the 
1980s or 1990s would be complete without a 
clip of Fry and Laurie in twit or fop mode on 
sketch programs like Blackadder or their own 
A Bit of Fry and Laurie. 

Those antics made Laurie a household name 
among BBC viewers, but he never quite broke 
through in the States. There were one-off guest 
roles on Friends and Family Guy, and he played 
the dad in Stuart Little, But the audition tape 
he recorded in a hotel bathroom in Namibia, 
where he was filming Flight of the Phoenix, 
was what got Laurie the role of his career. 
Since 2004 House has earned him a pair of 
Golden Globes, three Emmy nominations and 
the distinction of being one of the most-watched 
scripted TV programs, even though the actor 
has never quite let go of England. His wife of 


“Pm still an Englishman to my core. And 
being British, I’m quite dubious anytime I 
hear any of my countrymen playing American. 
I think that's why House doesn't do so well in 
England. The British are wise to me.” 


20 years, Jo Green, and their three children 
still live in north London. It’s anyone's guess 
how the California house Laurie bought last 
summer will change things. 

PLAYBOY dispatched Contributing Editor 
David Hochman to meet with Laurie over the 
course of several weeks as House's fifth season 
got under way. They met at various hotels and 
on the show's set at 20th Century Fox Studios 
in Los Angeles. Hochman's report: “For all 
House's crankiness and sarcasm, you would 
expect him to be played by an actor with at least 
a trace of mean-spiritedness. But Laurie is as 
gentle and self-effacing as House is a grouch. 
Each time the iss success came up, he 
looked as if he wanted to hide under a pillow. It 
embarrasses him to celebrate his achievements, 
even though he has done so much. It’s almost as 
though he's afraid if he believes in his suc 
he'll lose the jones for all the long hours House 
demands. Every actor should take a cue from the 
way Laurie handles his fame.” 


PLAYBOY: You recently bought a house—a 
big one—in Los Angeles after years of com- 
muting back and forth to London. Has 
Hugh Laurie gone Hollywood at last? 

LAURIE: Гус put down, not qui 
more like a flowerpot. My family s 
in London, but I finally had to accept that 
House has some sort of permanence. I was 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MIZUNO 
“Insurance in many ways is the elephant in 


the room on House. It's something we rarely 
address, but the question remains: Who's paying 


‘for all this treatment? Do all these people really 


have the insurance to cover these procedures?” 


31 


PLAYBOY 


32 


so convinced in the first few years that it was 
never going to last—because nothing does. 
Simply statistically, the odds are very much 
against it in television. But here we are. 
PLAYBOY: In fact, you're coming up on the 
100th episode. That makes Dr. House 
one of the crankiest success stories on 
TV since Archie Bunker, right? 

LAURIE: Oh dear God. Don't say that. Suc- 
cess on a cosmic level like that completely 
eludes me. I'm deeply suspicious of things 
being too good. It's part of my supersti- 
tion, I think, to generate pain in order to 
give the illusion of gain. That's my MO. 
I'm not saying I reject success, but hon- 
estly, I don't quite know how to deal with 
it, It's an old feeling: As soon as you have 
the thing you've been going after all your 
life, that reasonable degree of security, you 
start kicking against it, doubting it. That’s 
why I get uneasy whenever journalists 
assemble lists. The best! The crankiest! 1 
don't feel worthy of any list. Lists are for 
bright and shiny people. Lists are for peo- 
ple on big and shiny shows like Lost, Des- 
perate Housewives, Heroes. 'm more stubbly 
and grumpy than bright and shiny. 
PLAYBOY: That sounds a little like House 
talking. How much of you is in him, and 
vice versa? 

LAURIE: I guess we have certain similari- 
ties, We both look at the world with one 
eyebrow arched. We're both quite serious 
but also have a childishness. He and I are 
eternal adolescents but with this morbid 
gravity. The other thing is, we both have 
issues with joy, insomuch as we think it’s 
beyond us. I often picture that scene in 
the Woody Allen movie when he's on the 
train and looks into another car that's 
full of people laughing. They're drinking 
champagne; somebody has a trombone. 
And Woody is very much on the outside 
of that, looking in. I'd say that sums up 
my view of the world, as well as House's. 
PLAYBOY: Hasn't the show's continued 
success improved your mood? 

Laurie: Not really. I think being moody is 
part of my nature, though looking back, I 
am much less moody and depressed now 
than when I was 25. Gradually Гуе mel- 
lowed. I was probably depressed all the 
time back then. Now it’s more occasional. 
PLAYBOY: What changed? 

LAURIE: It’s tiresome to be so wound up 
in yourself and dark, and it's hard on 
others. My moodiness probably has a 
greater effect on other people—the peo- 
ple I live and work with—than it does on 
me. Nobody likes being around someone 
who's bemoaning his fate all the time, 
and I didn’t want to be that person. I also 
understand now what gets me out of my 
head when I get depressed: physical exer- 
cise, doing a chore. ГЇЇ hang a picture, 
let's say. Or perhaps I'll take a toothbrush 
and clean the spokes on my motorcycle. 
PLAYBOY: What about antidepressants? 
LAURIE: They have been an answer, yes. 
They're something Pve tried that has 
helped. They're probably good for my 
work because they help with confidence, 


and confidence is the prerequisite of all 
successful endeavors. But then again, as 
I said, I get suspicious if things start to 
feel too easy or comfortable, so that's not 
a perfect solution either. 

PLAYBOY: Do you worry that being under 
the spell of medication will overthrow 
your powers as an actor, particularly when 
you're playing a curmudgeon like House? 
LAURIE: It’s a tricky question, isn't it? 
Pharmaceuticals do raise the question 
of who we are as human beings. What 
are moods and feelings if we can change 
or even do away with them? Does that 
reduce the essence of who we are? Then 
again, I tend to overthink these things. 1 
overthink everything, I think. But if your 
eyesight fails, it's okay to wear glasses or 
contact lenses, is it not? If you feel cold, 
you put on a sweater. Is that changing 
the nature of who you are? No. 

I worry sometimes that I've said too 
much on this subject. It gives the idea 
that I'm some sort of near basket case 
who has to be coaxed out of his cave on 
weekends. I'm okay. Really, 1 am. 
PLAYBOY: Speaking of pharmaceuticals, 
House sure does love his Vicodin. He 
doesn't have any close friends or family. 
He has that famous limp, and he's nasty 
to just about everyone. Remind us again: 
What's his appeal? 

LAURIE: It's a combination of things. 


HOUSE IS 
PRIMARILY & LONER, 


A CHARACTER 
DRIVEN BY 
TORMENT. THAT'S 
THE CASE WITH 

A LOT OF MEN. 


His being a skilled healer is an attrac- 
tive quality. We'd all like to feel there 
is somebody out there who can save 
us when we're up against it, when our 
life or our loved ones are in peril. God 
knows it would be nice if someone out 
there right now had the answer, and 
House almost always has the answer. 
Also he's free from the social gravity 
that holds us all down and prevents us 
from saying what we think and doing 
what we want. That gravity keeps us 
down. But because he doesn't seem to 
obey those laws, because he doesn't care 
if people like him or approve of him, he's 
a character who flies. Dreams of flight or 
weightlessness are very common to us. 
We all dream of being able to rise and 
sort of float above the world, and I think 
that's what House is doing socially. 
PLAYBOY: He's also funny. 
LAURIE: Right. There's that, too. I find 
him a very funny character, but it's not 
just that he's funny. There was a line, 
a moment of absolute encapsulation for 
me, from a scene in which House has 
to interrupt an operation. His colleague 
Wilson is in the operating theater, and 
House has to take a patient in to intro- 
duce him to Wilson. The first line, to 
one of the other surgeons, is "Mind if 
we play through?" 
PLAYBOY: That's funny. 


LAURIE: I remember thinking at the time 
that the line was somehow superfluous 
to the scene, which was actually about 
Wilson's appraisal of the patient. All it 
called for was a line to the effect of “Hey, 
Wilson, meet this guy." But [head writer 
and show creator] David Shore found 
exactly the right phrase to characterize 
House in that moment. Yes, House is 
dark and tortured and lonely and gruff 
and all those things, but there's some- 
thing terrifically connected and exu- 
berant about him. He takes pleasure in 
language, pleasure in a good joke. He 
is a believer, as I am, in the power of 
humor. In a world of death and misery 
where people are dropping all around 
him, where fate is often cruel rather 
than kind, humor is his only meaning- 
ful response to existence. 
PLAYBOY: Not to make this a "list" ques- 
tion, but what are some of your all-time 
favorite House episodes? 
LAURIE: There are good things in lots of 
them, but as a complete episode, I think 
Storie: t—very ambi- 
tious and by and large very successful 
as these things go. It's the one in which 
House gives three lectures, and each 
one tells a different story about human 
suffering—in particular, leg pain, which 
is his malady. It's the story of what hap- 
pened to House's leg, and it's told with 
great compassion and ingenuity. The 
show's brilliant writers found a way to 
tie all three stories together, involve the 
entire cast and ci fantasy sequence 
featuring Carmen Electra playing golf. 
You can't ask for more than that in a 
single episode. 

The other one that comes to mind is 
also one of the very first we did, called 


"Autop rry Kaplow. 
Absolute about a little 
girl suffering from a brain tumor, and 
everybody in the hospital constantly 


sings her praises as a brave little angel. 
But House commits this absolute bla: 
phemy of doubting her bravery. You're 
not allowed to do that, especially on TV 
and especially with children. People 
who suffer from cancer are sanctified. 
But House being House, he makes the 
shocking but nonetheless inarguable 
point that not everybody can be as 
brave as everybody else. If everyone's a 
hero, the word has no meaning. I love 
House for being able to say things like 
that. It's quite liberating to go against 
the grain, even as an actor reciting 
lines. House then goes further and 
actually starts to doubt the bravery is 
hers but is rather a symptom, a tumor, 
perhaps, that's affecting her personal- 
ity. But the most brilliant element of it 
is that he's wrong! 

PLAYBOY: But House is never wrong. 
LAURIE: Precisely. But he is wrong. And 
it forces him to admit there are eternal 
qualities and inarguable virtues like brav- 
ery. It's moments like those—or like the 
ones this season when House reveals just 


how vulnerable and alone he is, to the 
point where he sends a private investi- 
gator to keep an eye on Wilson, his only 
real friend—that bring this character 
alive. Honestly, though, I've seen only 
about 10 of the 100 episodes we've made, 
so I'm probably not the best judge. 
PLAYBOY: You don't watch the show? 
LAURIE: I would if I weren't on it. The 
attitude and the wit are very much in 
keeping with my sensibilities, but it's sim- 
ply too hard to watch myself acting. 
PLAYBOY: Does your American accent 
bother you? 

LAURIE: Well, that's certainly difficult to 
get my head around. I'm still an English- 
man to my core. And being British, I'm 
quite dubious anytime I hear any of my 
countrymen playing American. I think 
that's why House doesn't do so well in 
England. The show has done stupen- 
dously well in other European countri 
It may even be the number one program 
in Spain and Germany. But the British 
are wise to me. Any sort of linguistic 
affectation drives the English absolutely 
mad. I mean, we are a nation of Pro! 
sor Higginses, and we're all out to detect 
falsehood and artifice in the way English 
speakers speak. 

PLAYBOY: Are there certain words that 
especially trip you up? 

LAURIE: Well, the r words are the biggest 
problem. Coronary artery—that’s а bad 
day when that comes up. Court order— 
also bad. New York, oddly, is a nightmare 
The most difficult is any speech in which 
I have to repeat a word. It's impossible 
to maintain the same inflection. So if you 
watch the show and I'm going on about 
cancer, listen to the way the word cancer 
changes each time I say it. You'll under- 
stand why I can't watch the show. 
PLAYBOY: Sev 
non-Americans playing Yank pari 
sie Simon Baker and Englishm. 


Russell Crowe, 
Blanchett frequently speak American 
English. Are there not enough Ameri- 
can actors to fill those roles? 

LAURIE: I think it's because people know 
too much about actors in their home 
territory. One of the reasons I got the 
role of House is, coming from England, 
I was largely unknown to Americans. 
There were no preconceived notions 
or expectations about how I was sup- 
posed to look or sound. I was new, and 
that was attractive. It's also a sign of the 
End of Days, I believe. Once you start 
having foreigners do your TV shows, 
it's pretty much over. The Romans 
found that to be the case. They had 
a lot of Australians coming into the 
Colosseum right before the whole thing 
started to implode. 

PLAYBOY: Very funny. When did you real- 
ize House would be a hit? 

LAURIE: Well, it was very gradual. In the first. 
year we went unnoticed. I mean, nobody 
watched. It wasn't until we followed 


Playing Doctor 
With House 


DR. ALLISON 
CAMERON 
Cameron kisses her 
boss, and he kisses 
back. Things cool 
when House tells 
her she always falls 
in love with charity 
cases, like himself. 
When her new beau, 
Chase, asks if she 
and House have 

had sex, she doesn't 
say yes—or no. 


Evena 
grouch falls 


DR. LISA CUDDY 
She's House's dream 
woman (really—he 
dreams she gives 
im a striptease). 
His awkwardness 
ruins their real ten- 
der moments. But 
what's the deal be- 
tween Cuddy and 
Dr. Wilson? There's 
more three-way 
intrigue than any 
of them can handle. 


STACY WARNER 
While her husband 
recovers from 
porphyria, House's 
former live-in girl- 
friend works in the 
hospital. House 
wins her back but 
dumps her. Wilson 
credits this not to 
goodwill toward 
her husband but to 
House loathing his 
own happiness. 


PROSTITUTES 
When House 
grumbles things 
like "Tell that to 
all the hookers 
who won't kiss me 
on the mouth, 

he's only half joking. 
And though we 
haven't seen many 
House-call girls, 
his love for escorts 
is as much a secret 
as Eliot Spitzer's. 


DR. JAMES WILSON 
Maybe House is 
ornery because he 
doesn't know he's 
gay for Wilson, who 
says, "Why not date 
you? We've known 
each other for years, 
we've put up with 
all kinds of crap from 
each other, and we 
keep coming back. 
We're a couple! 
—Rocky Rakovic 


PLAYBOY 


34 


American Idol in season two that it started 
to pick up. 

PLAYBOY: Did people start saying, 
did I go to high school with you?" 
LAURIE: By the second season, people 
began staring at me, definitely. Or 
squinting in vague recognition. You 
suddenly realize the cell phone and the 
digital camera have changed the nature 
of what it means to be in public. It's not 
paparazzi you have worry about any- 
more as a celebrity. It's everyone. 

Then we had some very big episodes, 
like our Super Bowl episode last year, 
when 30 million people were watching, 
and that's when things got really strange. 
People want to know everything about 
you. They believe your life has changed. 
But the truth is, success changes nothing. 
I think it was General MacArthur who 
said no piece of news is either as good or 
as bad as it first appears. That's a wise way 
to regard fame as well. It's neither as good 
nor as bad as you expect it to be. Thirty 
million people watch you on television, 
but the next day things aren't a different 
color. They don't taste different. If your 
back hurt yesterday, your back will hurt 
today. It may hurt even more. 

PLAYBOY: How much have you learned 
from the show? Do you know the treat- 
ment for osteochondritis? 

LAURIE: Absolutely not. 

PLAYBOY: The cure for fibromyalgia? 
LAURIE: I’m not even certain I know what 
that is. 

PLAYBOY: You are a very good actor, 
indeed. 

LAURIE: I might have known those 
answers a week or two months ago. Or 
in 2002. But I retain absolutely nothing 
in the way of medical information. It's 
frightening, really. The demands on my 
short-term memory are so great for th: 
show. It’s an astonishingly good 

in keeping my brain fresh and 


“Hey, 


but it all goes out of my head 20 minutes 
after the scene is done, 

PLAYBOY: With all those weird diseases on the 
show, have you become a hypochondriac? 


MATIC 


WANT TO WIN AN EMMY? 
TRY THIS HANDY PLOT GENERATOR 


HOUSE-D- | 


213 


Suddenly, the character 
(who looks semi- 
familiar from playing 
parts in movies): 


0:00 
Opening scene, 
cue the innocuou: 


Has an uncontrollable 


EE | 
Lovers’ stroll in the park.) [Hallucinates а 
wer. / (giant panda, 


[Woman takin 


LAURIE: It gives you pause to realize just 
how close we all are to so many nasty, 
ravaging ailments. But, touch wood, I've 
been extremely lucky in that depart- 
ment. We don't deal too many run- 
of-the-mill problems on our show, so it 
often feels like fantasy more than stark 
reality. We are a drama, after all. Also, 
if you look at what we do medically, it 
doesn’t really add up. We make a mil- 
lion mistakes, We fix illnesses in 42 min- 
utes that would take eight months to 
cure in reality, and doctors could never 
carry out as many procedures as ours 
do. There would be an MRI technician, 
a radiologist to interpret the MRI and 
another doctor to present those findings 
to the patient, But we can't have a cast 
of 85 people. It's more satisfying to hav 
these characters do everything rathe 
than show patients waiting around in an 
office for results. That would be slightly 
less exciting to watch 

PLAYBOY: About as exciting as watch- 
ing people try to meet their insurance 
deductibles. 

LAURIE: That's something I do think 
about, by the way. Coming from Eng- 
land, where we have a very different 
health care system, I do think about 
America's in the context of this show. 
Insurance in many ways is the elephant 
in the room on House. It’s something we 
rarely address, but the question remains: 
Who's paying for all this treatment? Do 
all these people really have the insurance 
to cover these procedures? 

PLAYBOY: Right. Because it can't be inex- 
pensive to see Dr. House. 

LAURIE: Not at all. I mean, just look at our 
set—corridors that would be a ward in 
Britain, the sort of sumptuous and end- 
less well of resources people who come 
into the hospital seem to have on the 
show. But of course, they wouldn't really 
have that. Only on TV do they have that. 
We have MRÍ machines coming out of 
our ears and every luxury to try experi- 
mental treatments and every test in the 
world. The reality is, for millions of Amer 


13:22 

House demands to 
know if the patient: 
‘Has taken cheap 
Mexic an drugs. 
Hiked the 
[Appalachi 


Had sex with ) 
Siamese twi regul 
Regardless of the 


answer, House says 
the patient is lying and 


656 

Dean of medicine Dr. 
Cuddy approaches House, 
who tells her that she: 


as "great stems." | 
s showing too much 
leavage. 
[Has toothpaste on 
her blouse. | 


Cuddy doubles House's 
clinic duties. 


icans, the situation is quite different. It's 
not our role to change a system like that, 
obviously, but I do think about it. 

PLAYBOY: Have you had any lasting effects 
from limping for five seasons? 

LAURIE: Yes, I get some shoulder pain 
or, as I like to call it, the makings of 
a massive civil suit against Fox. Then 
again, the rewards of doing my job 
make up for any physical distress the 
show may be causing. 

PLAYBOY: Since you bring it up, is it ironic 
that you are paid far more than most real 
doctors are? 

LAURIE: It’s a peculiar aspect of what I do, 
yes. I often think about my father, who 
was a physician, and how strange it is 
that I am better rewarded for faking this 
job than he ever was for doing the real 
thing. Go figure. It doesn’t seem right. 
He certainly treated more patients in an 
average week than I do. 

PLAYBOY: Did you ever go on rounds 
with him? 

Laurie: I went on house calls with him 
Usually I would sit in the car while he was 
inside lancing a boil or whatever. I mostly 
remember being at home answering the 
phone for him. was in the days before 
answering machines. Being my father's 
son, I sounded like him, and before I could 
“This isn't the doctor,” they would 
jump in and say, "Doctor, thank God! It's 
all exploded. I can't stop it." And with no 
obvious juncture for me to step out of the 
way, I would, you know. 
PLAYBOY: Make a diagnosis? 
LAURIE: Let's just say I'd reassure them. 
You're an adolescent. You're craving 
stimulation. “Well, it sounds like you're 
doing the right thing there," I'd say. Or 
“Oh yes, it will probably be all right. Call 
back if the swelling worsens.” As far as 1 
remember, I never lost any patients. 
PLAYBOY: Were you a rebellious teenager 
or just bored? 

LAURIE: I think I suffered from the arro- 
gance of youth. When I was 15, I and 
a group of school friends took a sort of 
pledge that we wouldn't live beyond 40. 
We decided we'd kill ourselves. In fact, 
there were some hard-core members of 
the group—I wasn't one of them—who 
wanted to make it 30. “I hope I die 
before I get old" sort of thing. Talk about 
arrogance. The arrogance of youth, it 
trumps all. We felt we knew absolutely 
everything there was to be known and 


18:17 

House's team of resident 
doctors (yep, at least 
four for one case) 


Herpes. | 


pops a Vicot 


the future held only decay and compro- 
mise and defeat. We vowed to get out 
of here before that happened. It's an 
interesting problem, isn't it? Because it's 
hard to know whether your 15-year-old 
self is the true expression of who you are 
and everything that follows is a sort of. 
diluted, watered-down, compromised 
version of that, of all those ideas and 
dreams you've had and that sort of fiery 
essence you had at 15. Or whether actu- 
ally you're just a sort of pencil sketch at 
15. Which is the true you? 

PLAYBOY: Your father didn't live to see 
you on House. What would he have made. 
of a doctor like that? 

LAURIE: He would have been appalled. 
My father was a very polite man, a very 
gentle, soft-spoken fellow. He did not 
like arrogance, and he would have been 
appalled by the way House occasion- 
ally conducts himself. Very English, my 
dad. Reserved in that way. I remember 
when I wrote my novel, The Gun Seller, 
I dedicated it to him, which I thought 
he'd be rather pleased by. But suddenly 
it dawned on me that actually he was, if 
anything, slightly embarrassed by the 
fact that he had re ed a dedication 
in a book that contained profanity, not 
to mention sex and violence. He didn't 
quite know how to cope with that. But 
I don't know. I refuse to believe he 
wouldn't have been pleased to see me 
on House. 1 think he would have been 
proud. He would have enjoyed seeing all 
the medical equipment, if nothing else. 
PLAYBOY: I take it your father didn't wear 
his Olympic medal around the house 
when you were growing up. 

LAURIE: No. He did not wear it around the 
house. In fact, it was quite odd, but he hid 
it in a sock drawer. I didn't even know 
about it until I was around 12. I remem- 
ber I went fishing with my mother on a 
lake, or the loch, as they call it in Scotland. 
We got into this boat and my dad took the 
oars, and—I remember this moment—I 
rather anxiously said to Mother, “Does he 
know how to row?" But then I found this 
medal. Hey! What the hell is this? Very 
odd. Although it wasn't actually gold. 
Because this was the first postwar Olym- 
pics, gold, like a lot of things, was in very 
short supply. It was gold leaf over tin. 
PLAYBOY: But still. 

LAURIE: Absolutely! And later at univer- 
ty he ended up coaching me in rowing. 


27:38 

They're wrong and the 
patient flatlines, devel- 
oping even worse symp- 
toms. House blames 
the doctor who came 

up with the diagno: 
because he/she is: 


—[Not Caucasian; 
A lesbian. - 
{An idiot) — — 
House pops another 
Vicodin. 


36:29 


Wilson thinks it's: 


(Cancer 


Like all good doctors, 
House orders his staff to 
break into the patient's 
home to look for leads. 
Cancer specialist BFF 


[cancer]- 
A tumor (probably 
malignan 


I rowed with him; we'd sometimes go out 
on a boat together. He was ferociously 
strong, a very powerful force to behold. 
PLAYBOY: That was at Cambridge, where 
you also got your first taste of performing. 
LAURIE: My first taste came when I was 
around 13. That's when I realized I quite 
liked being onstage. I knew especially I 
liked making people laugh—and girls, 
most especially. I was scared to death of 
girls at that age, but onstage—as a king 
in a school play, for example—I would 
actually be seen by them, which is to 
say I wouldn't be completely invisible, 
as was my normal condition. When I 
started performing for a living, I always 
thought of my audience as female. The 
audience was to be charmed and flirted 
with, seduced, But in reality my audi- 
ences very quickly became male. I'd go 
onstage, and it would be a group of very 
sullen-looking blokes with arms folded 
as if to say, "Okay, then. Whaddya got?" 
The audience was something that had 
to be beaten. 
PLAYBOY: Your Cambridge cohort and 
friend Emma Thompson 
lescribed you as "lugubriously 
e a well-hung cel.” What exactly 
did she mean? 
LAURIE: It's quite a confounding image, 
isn't it? I mean, are eels even hung at 
all? Those were blissful days, I must 
say. We couldn't even imagine a life in 
Hollywood back then. Hollywood was 
as distant and impossible as El Dorado. 
It was all about fun. Watching Emma 
was like watching the sun or wind or 
some other elemental force. Her talent 
even then was inescapable. I remem- 
ber she once did a monologue as a sort 
of gushy actress winning an award. 
I still remember the first line: "Th 
award doesn't really belong to me. 
We thought, This woman is so gifted, 
she will win an award like that one day, 
maybe even an Oscar. That was also 
around the time I met Stephen Fry. 
PLAYBOY: А Bit of Fry and Laurie was a 
huge comedy hit in the U.K., but you 
two haven't worked together in a while. 
Any plans for a reunion? 
LAURIE: I certainly hope so. It's something 
we talk about a lot. Neither of us is a very 
good planner, though, and I think we're 
both spoken for until, like, 2012, but we 
have some ideas for the stage, television 
and movies we think could work really 


former girlf 
once 


48:11 

The patient shows 
even worse symptoms 
and edges toward 
death. House: 


Infects himself with 


—|patient's blood. 
Runs invasive tests on| 


52:35 


patient's next of kin. |. 
Tries maverick surgery: 


Vicodin break. 


Things are bleak. Every- 
one agrees the patient 
will die. Wilson buys 
House a cup of coffee. 

A fly buzzes by. House 
looks at the fly and— 
aha!—suddenly all is 
zl clear. The patient has: 


[Tennis elbow!|— 
volving a power tool, | East Indian donovanosis! 
Blah blah blahlitosis!| — 


well. Right now he's putting the finish- 
ing touches on a documentary about the 
U.S. He has traveled to all 50 states. I 
suspect the people who commissioned 
the series were half hoping he would do 
some sort of sardonic satire on the foibles 
of Americans, but that isn't Stephen's 
way. I mean, he's capable of being pretty 
savage, but he's also a very generous and 
good-hearted soul. He looks to see the 
good in everything. 

PLAYBOY: For those Americans who are 
unaware, can you please tell us who Ted 
Cunterblast is; 
LAURIE: My God, I haven't thought about 
that character in a very long time. He 
was a fictional author we created for a 
Fry and Laurie sketch, and the name got 
us into a lot of trouble with the controller 
of BBC Two. He called the producer the 
next day and said, "They used the word 
c-u-n-t!” And our producer said, “Well, 
actually, they used a name, C-un-t-erblast.” 
I wouldn't dream of asserting there was 
anything clever or witty about that, but 
for some reason it amused our childish 
selves at the time. 

PLAYBOY: Where do you fall on the 
famous rift between English and Ame 
can comedy? 

LAURIE: There is an old chestnut Eng- 
lish people use to comfort themselves: 
the notion that, first of all, Americans 
have no sense of irony. Absolute non- 
sense. I don't know who came up with 
that. Demonstrably, manifestly untrue. 
British comedy is simply more idio- 
syncratic and a bit less polished, but 
that's because it's usually done by one 
or two people rather than a committee 
of dozens of sitcom writers. When John 
Cleese did Fawlty Towers he and Connie 
Booth wrote all 12 of them. Almost all 
the great landmarks of British television 
are the product of one or two minds 
Basil Fawlty is a magnificent creation 
because he’s a singular creation, As is 
Captain Mainwaring, from Dad’s Army, 
which you probably wouldn't know. 

By and large, British people align 
themselves with the underdog more 
than Americans do. Americans rather 
like the idea of being able to top the 
nember someone pointing that 
n Animal House, the scene when 
John Belushi is walking up the stairs ata 
frat party and someone is playing "Kum- 
baya" or something on the guitar and he 


59:04 

Success. Wilson for- 
gives House for some- 
thing. Cuddy creates 
more sexual tension. 
The patient recovers. 
House celebrates by: 

Kicking a 
neighborhood dog. 

= _|Playing his р 
|terribty). 

‘Snorting Vicodin off | 

а hooker's breasts. 


s piano] 


35 


PLAYBOY 


36 


smashes the guitar. If that had been an 
English film, the guitarist would have 
been the hero. That would have been 
Norman Wisdom. Belushi would have 
come off as a brutish, thuggish lout. 
PLAYBOY: How important was it for you to 
make it in the States? 

LAURIE: It wasn't at all. No disrespect, but 
in England there's an element of treach- 
ery in going abroad to ply one's trade. It's 
rather frowned upon. There were two 
beacons on that front: Peter Cook and 
Dudley Moore. Both were fantastically 
talented, but Peter stayed in London and 
Dudley left. Because he left and because 
he lived in glorious California, Moore was 
widely assumed to have made a deal with 
the devil that involved beautiful blonde 
women and beaches and sunshine and 
Ferraris. Peter maintained the slightly 
drizzly temperament we revere in Eng- 
land. Moore was perceived as a traitor. 
PLAYBOY: Do you worry pcople in Eng- 
land say that about you now? 

LAURIE: Not really, but it’s because my life 
is still in England, even though I have a 
house in Los Angeles, It would have been 
different if I had relocated my entire fam- 
ily here, but my kids go to school and uni- 
versity there, and my wife still lives there. I 
suppose I have too much ofa Presbyterian 
streak from my parents ever to rejoice in 
the fruits of my labors and give over com- 
pletely to whatever it was Dudley Moore 
succumbed to. I've actually always rather 
enjoyed Los Angeles. It's partly to do with 
what people tell you to expect. People said, 
"Los Angeles is the most terrible place of 
all. You'll go crazy. You won't last a month. 
You'll be going out of your mind, i 
superficial." Well, I am superficial, so it 
suits me down to the ground. For instance, 
I like fast cars and motorcycles, and there's 
no better place to be for tha 

PLAYBOY: It must drive Fox crazy that you 
risk life and limb. Have they tried to add 
a no-adrenaline clause to your contract? 
LAURIE: Fortunately, I signed the contract 
before anybody was watching the show, 
so they couldn't be bothered whether 1 
wiped out or not. I hope it doesn't bother 
them too much that I drive my motor- 
cycle to work, for instance, and generally 
enjoy speeding around the hills of L.A. 
But I maintain that no one has a greater 
interest in my not falling off than I do. 1 
claim supremacy in that area. 

PLAYBOY: By the way, are you the guy on 
the 405 freeway zipping by at 80 miles an 
hour while we sit in traffic? 

LAURIE: I may be that guy. Are you the 
guy in the four-ton SUV who's texting? 
I mean, I have had moments when I 
actually wondered about the way I'm 
going to die. To see some bleached 
blonde putting on eyeliner at 60 miles 
an hour in her Humvee without any 
concept of the forces involved in con- 
trolling that vehicle or its capabilities or 
limitations! None whatsoever. It's abso- 
lutely amazing to me. I pass an accident 
in Los Angeles at least twice a week. 


NO 
FLAT 
LINES 


No one pulls 
off better 
one-liners 
than Gregory 
House. 
Here’s the 
snarky proof 


“Seizures are fun to watch, boring to diagnose.” 


"Are you comparing me to God? I mean, it's 
great, but so you know, I've never made a tree.” 


"My friends called me the Cane. Even before 
I messed up my leg." 

"Physician-patient confidentiality protects 
me from annoying conversations." 


"Here's to women. Can't live with them, 
can't kill them and tell the neighbors they're 
stripping in Atlantic City." 

"CT... That's, like, short for MRI, right? Excel- 
lent. Well, I guess that saves us a lot of time." 


"Union rules. I can't check out this guy's 
seeping gonorrhea this close to lunch." 


"I've moved past threesomes. I'm now into 
foursomes. If someone backs out, then 
you've still got a threesome. If two people 
back out, you're still having sex. You'd be 
amazed. Even if three people—" 


"Don't worry, it's treatable. Being a bitch, 


In London—and I'm not saying we do 
things better over there; I don't believe 
in that—but I'd say it's about twice 
a year. Here people just cannon into 
one another almost as a sport. It's just 
a gigantic pinball machine. Dry sunny 
days, no traffic, and some car's on its 
roof. I don't think it's America. I think 
it's limited to Los Angeles, but it makes 
the ride to work interesting. 

PLAYBOY: Has it been a strain on your 
marriage to be so far away from home? 
What kind of husband are you? 

LAURIE: Wow. I have no idea, having no 
idea what to compare it with. I do my 
best, though I suspect it's not great a lot 
of the time. I don't know. I've probably 
created a fair amount of disruption and 
frustration for the family, but my wife 
is very grounded, and things could be 
worse. I once met a guy who worked on 
a nuclear submarine. He had to check a 
box on a piece of paper, saying whether 
he wanted to be informed in the event 
that something horrible happened back 
home, because if something horrible did 
happen, he wasn't getting off that sub. 
Something did happen to a friend of his, 
and he didn't hear about it until they 
returned to land. At least I don't have to 
make that choice. I know if something 
happens, I can always fly home. 

PLAYBOY: Does it surprise you that people 


though...nothing we can do about that." 
"No, if you talk to God, you're religious. If 
God talks to you, you're psychotic." 

"I can be a jerk to people I haven't slept 
with. I am that good," 


view House—and you—as a sex symbol? 
LAURIE: Completely. It's utterly absurd. 
Weird. Deranged. I can't explain it. 
PLAYBOY: How do you explain it? 

LAURIE: House is a sexy character in his own 
way. You know, he's that sort of wounded 
genius. There's a Beauty and the Beast ele- 
ment and a bit of the Phantom of the Opera 
thrown in. House is a scarred figure hiding 
in the upper reaches of the opera house. I 
can see there's something attractive about 
that. Women want to fix him. For some 
reason women find that terribly sexy. 
PLAYBOY: But he doesn't get a ton of action. 
Why doesn’t House have more sex? 
Laurie: I think he does want that, and I 
think he’s getting it somewhere, some- 
how. I hesitate to speculate on the liaisons 
he has when he’s not at Princeton- 
Plainsboro. But he’s primarily a loner, a 
character driven by torment. It’s hard to 
get close to someone like that. But that’s 
the case with a lot of men. 

PLAYBOY: Men are loners by nature? 
LAURIE: I was having a chat on the set 
recently; we were discussing what the bath- 
room stands for besides the obvious func- 
tion of what the bathroom stands for. Most 
of the men agreed the bathroom was sort 
of a refuge, a place of “Oh, world, please 
go away,” whatever that may mean—either 
the conversation or the worry or the phone 
call you don't (concluded on page 105) 


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WELCOME TO THE WORLD'S 


“С 


LEFT: THE 
FORMER 
PRESIDENTIAL 
PALACE IN 
THE CAPITAL 
CITY оғ 
BISSAU WAS 
SET AFIRE 

IN MAY 1999 
DURING THE 
CIVIL WAR. 
THE INSTI- 
TUTIONS OF 
GOVERNMENT 
REMAIN VUL- 
NERABLE. 


Shs creunnenc 


HAS EAE an GUINEA-BISSAU. 


2246 narco stale 


2 


CHRISTIAN 


the bug-eyed lawyer. 
“That's just rumors and lies, 
accusations spread by journal- 
We sit across from each other on a hot, 


ists.” 
hungover Sunday morning in Bissau, the sleepy 


capital city of Guinea-Bissau 
Dr. Carlos Gabriel Lopes Correia, an attorney 
for the local drug lords, has been telling me 
there is no great narcotics problem here, But 
he can't resist the urge to brag. He wants the 
world to know he is one of the top lawyers 
in Guinea-Bissau, a place where the law is 
merely notional, the elec- 
trical grid doesn't func- | 
tion, the soldiers aren't 
paid for months at a 
time and the police don't 
have handcuffs. This is a 
country so unstable that 
the Portuguese airline— 


For the past hour 


Guinea-Bissau’s main link to Europe, operat- 
ing one flight a week—refuses to leave a jet 
here overnight for fear of what lurks beyond 
the tarmac’s edge. When you arrive, those 
leaving push onto your plane before it is 
empty. When you step into the humid night 
outside the terminal, you feel trapped. 
“Okay. ГЇЇ tell you how it started,” the law- 
yer says, coughing from his cigarette, “how the 
drugs got here and how people started smug- 
gling.” Correia wears shorts, flip-flops and a 
shirt that grabs at his belly. He chain-smokes 
knockoff Marlboro 
Lights. Of course Correia 
will tell me—these ca 
are all that connect him 
to the outside world, 
The scene outside the 
attorney’s compound 
hints at a deeper history: 


PARENTI 


BELOW LEFT: 
THE SHIP SAO 
JORGE RESTS 
IN THE мор 
or BISSAU 
HARBOR, YET 
ANOTHER 
EMBLEM оғ 
FUTILITY. 
MARITIME 
TRAFFIC 
THRIVES, 
THOUGH ITS. 
LEGALITY 
MAY NOW 

BE SUSPECT. 


39 


40 


WITH LATIN AMERICA'S 


7 


ABANDONED FISHING BOATS IN THE HARBOR: WHERE TRADITIONAL ECONOMIES FAIL, NONTRADITIONAL ONES FLOURISH. 


The landscape still bears traces of a ramshackle Portuguese 
colonialism that gave way to revolutionary dreams and then 
just to more war and instability. The burned house next door 
now serves as the neighborhood garbage dump. Stray dogs 
root around in the trash and wander the vacant streets. Three 
blocks up the hill the largely empty Avenida da Che Guevara 
flows into a desolate traffic circle. 

Behind the circle lies the abandoned presidential palace, a 
grand old Portuguese mansion that was burned and looted 
during the brief civil war in the late 1990s. The building's 
walls are pocked by gunfire, moss creeps from the roof, and 
dragonflies hover in its shade. 

"This is what Guinea-Bissau has become. Once imagined as 
a model of socialist prosperity, this underdeveloped former 
colony has become Africa's first full-blown narco state, a 
political and administrative no-man's-land. The government 
is disorganized, corrupt and fragmented; its institutions 
don't keep proper records or maintain normal standards. 
Now the local forces of law and order have essentially 
merged with Latin America's cocaine mafias. 

Interpol and the United Nations say Guinea-Bissau has 
become the main transshipment point for cocaine being smug- 
gled into Europe. For years the Caribbean nations played 
that role but not anymore. Since 2005 more than 33 tons 
of cocaine have been seized en route to Europe via western 
Africa. As an alarmed United Nations report puts it, “Some- 
thing has shifted, suddenly and dramatically." 

Once relatively rare in Europe, cocaine has become a popu- 
lar drug there. About 140 metric tons of cocaine—nearly a 
quarter of the world total—is now consumed every year in the 
European Union. Most of that passes through western Africa, 
much of it through Guinea-Bissau. 

Guinea-Bissau is perfectly placed between Latin America and 
southern Europe. With a population of only 1.5 million, the 
country is about the size of Maryland, with a similar geogra- 
phy: penetrated by several estuaries and having an archipelago 
of more than 80 low, overgrown islands. Most of the archi- 
pelago is uninhabited, and many islands have old military- 
built landing strips. Smugglers wait with speedboats covered 
in blue tarps by day, ready to pick up drugs by night. 

Guinea-Bissau is the third-poorest country on earth. Its per 


capita GDP is $600 a year. Though it sounds like a bad joke, 
peanuts are the biggest export, and the tax on peanuts is the 
government's largest source of revenue. The total annual 
national budget, mostly funded through loans and foreign 
aid, is about equal to the European wholesale value of 
2.5 tons of cocaine—a bit less than a month's worth of the 
cocaine that passes through here. 

The military runs the show in Guinea-Bissau, but corruption 
at the top means lower officers and their men go unpaid for 
months and can barely survive on the wages when they are dis- 
bursed. Thus, these armed men are susceptible to bribery. The 
judges are weak, and there is no prison—like the presidential 
palace, it was destroyed during the civil war. 

“It all started in 2005,” says Correia. “A famous European 
trafficker was moving drugs out of here in a boat headed 
toward Senegal. The U.S. embassy in Dakar found out— 
someone here told them—and they got the Senegalese coast 
guard to intercept the ship. The smuggler dumped his load 
overboard. Well, it all washed up in Biombo. The farmers 
thought it was fertilizer and put it on their crops, which all 
died." The lawyer erupts in a smoky laugh. 

We are at Correia's home, sitting in the courtyard, a con- 
te slab surrounded by crowded rooms. A woman washes 
clothes in a plastic bucket. Several fat children wander 
around. Behind the lawyer sits a motionless young man who 
stares at me with bloodshot eyes. 

"There was this kid from Biombo who had been living in 
Germany,” says Correia. “He came home for a celebration and 
saw all this cocaine. He bought 10 kilos and took it to Europe. 
He made hundreds of thousands of euros." 

"The kid in question is Augusto Bliri, one of the most famous 
drug dealers in Bissau. Bliri started trafficking in drugs in 
Europe about a dozen years ago, moving product from Por: 
tugal to Germany. He affects the hip-hop style of American 
gangsterdom. He presents himself as an underworld entrepre- 
neur who likes to bankroll big basketball games and has tried 
to produce a few local music video 

In 2006 Bliri was busted and actually convicted and 
sentenced to four years in jail. *The conditions they had 
him in were very bad," says Correia. *He was in a base- 
ment. This made him get sick. (continued on page 98) 


LOVE ANDWARSAW 


> 
BH 


EVERY SUNDAY IS JUDGM 
MEN IN ZEBRA STRIPES 


BY STEVE SALERNO | 


t has to be the best part-time job in the 
world. Also the worst. 
Consider The Play. 

With a minute and nine seconds left in 
Super Bowl XLII, as Giants quarterback Eli 
Manning executes his half of perhaps the 
greatest clutch play in Super Bowl history, 
referee Mike Carey is close enough to the 
action to literally reach out and touch it. 


That's the good part. 

The downside is that Carey doesn't really 
get to see it-not the way the rest of us do. 
What's more, he knows if he blows a call 
along the way, he'll get full-time blame, then 
see his ineptitude memorialized in slo-mo on 
highlight reels for the rest of his life. 

Greatness isn't what Carey might have 
expected when The Play began. New England 


Patriots linebacker Adalius Thomas seemed 
to be right alongside Manning in the Giants’ 
backfield at the snap; within seconds both 
defensive ends, Richard Seymour and Jarvis 
Green, had a piece of the quarterback, Green 
stretching Manning's number 10 jersey to its 
limit. Still, to Carey's eye, the quarterback 
was never “in the grasp.” They need grasp and 
control, the ref reminded himself, keeping 


his fingers off the whistle he has sometimes 
been accused of blowing too soon. They got 
the grasp part down. But Manning was still 
squirming, battling. 

Now, as Carey circles in to Manning's 
left, a lunging defender does the Giants 
an unwitting favor-ping-ponging the 
quarterback out of harm's way. Manning 
stumbles, sets himself, takes a quick 


read and rifles the ball downfield. 

Later the postgame pundits can't miss 
the irony. A quarterback often bashed for 
folding under the slightest pressure mirac- 
ulously channels John Elway on the big- 
gest stage of all. A ref known for his quick 
whistle lets things play out a bit longer this 
time. Of such improbable coincidences are 
once-in-a-generation Super Bowls born. 


M PATRIOTS? 
ЖР Y HARRISON 


But with the clock still ticking, sports- 
writers' story lines are the furthest thing 
from Carey's mind. He has a game to run. 
“So,” he'll say afterward, “I see that it's a good 
play"—by which he means no fouls and no 
late hits-"but from my vantage point, look- 
ing past players, | can't really see that it's an 
outstanding play. | just know it's a catch.” 

Just a catch. Such is the life of the NFL ref. 


46 


On the 345 and some days each year he 
isn't shadowing NFL quarterbacks, Carey is 
co-owner of Seirus Innovation, a leadine dis- 
tributor of sports and outdoor accessories. As 
a ref, he belongs to an elite fraternity that has 
included lawyers and longshoremen, dentists 
and podiatrists, cops and colonels. Several 
are former football players. Though they do 
their weekend thing in front of mil- 
lions, only a few get a shot at some- 
thing akin to celebrity by uttering 
phrases like "Personal foul, number 
64, 15 yards, still first down.’ Many 
more gain notoriety when their work 
is picked apart in high-def superslo- 
mo from every angle. 

“They,” of course, are the 120 
referees, umpires, head linesmen, 
line judges, back judges, side 
judges and field judges who keep 
NFL games running not so merrily 
along, The 17 seven-man crews 
(plus one floater umpire) experi- 
ence football in strange, jarring 
cycles—“50 seconds of boredom 
followed by five seconds of ter- 
ror," as an inside joke puts it. Their 
duties vary from the sublime (sig- 
naling “good” on a sudden-death 
field goal from midfield) to the 
excruciatingly mundane (making 
sure all game balls are inflated to a 
pressure of between 12.5 and 13.5 
pounds a square inch). 

The pressure isn't just in the 
footballs-it's on the zebras 
themselves, Again this year they 
seek to prove that the only part- 
time officials in any pro sport can 
cut the mustard in a realm where 
their efforts have historically elic- 
ited responses like “out of hand” 
and “an all-time low.’ This season 
has been a particularly brutal one. 
Take, for example, that flubbed call 
on the last play of the Chargers- 
Steelers game in week 11 that 
stripped Pittsburgh of six points. 
The Steelers still won, but without 
those six points they didn't cover 
the spread, so Vegas sports books 
walked off with about $32 million 
that bettors should've won. "It 
was chaos,” one big-shot Vegas 
handicapper commented. “I've 
never seen anything like it.” 

You begin to understand what 
another NFL ref, Bill Leavy, means 
when he says, "I was a fireman. | 
was a hostage negotiator. Offici- 
ating in the NFL is the toughest 
thing I've done.” 


Head linesman Gary Slaughter and line 
judge Carl Johnson bookend the line of 
scrimmage as The Play takes shape. For 
Johnson, Super Bowl duty is gravy: His 
life's wish was already granted in 2001 
when the league called to invite him in. 
Unfortunately, that was the season of 


the lockout; the NFL due in its heels and 
turned to scab officials. When it appeared 
the stalemate might never end, Johnson 
looked skyward and implored, “Lord, | 
don't know what the future brings, but 
if you're gonna take me, let me have one 
NFL snap." He eventually got that snap 
in Phoenix, with Atlanta in town. What he 


remembered most was the athleticism of 
theFalcons' rookie quarterback, this Michael 
Vick kid. Bright future, Johnson thought, a 
guy who'll make headlines someday. 
Earlier this afternoon Johnson was at the 
heart of one of the game's few disputed 
plays, an illegal-batting call against Giants 
rookie running back Ahmad Bradshaw. 
Manning had fumbled, and when the ball 


squirted away, Johnson ruled that Brad- 
shaw had slapped it forward to a team- 
mate. The call nullified a key Giants first 
down. Johnson hopes to get through the 
remaining one minute, 15 seconds of the 
Super Bowl without further controversy. 
He knows a minute is enough time for 
anything in a close contest. 

Johnson and Slaughter read their 
respective tackles at the snap: pass. 
Johnson polices the line of scrim- 
mage. Slaughter instinctively back- 
pedals five yards downfield to the 
first-down marker-Amani Toomer 
is by him in a blur-and scans a five- 
yard zone across the width of the 
field. If someone catches a pass 
at the precise first-down distance, 
Slaughter will be there to affirm it. 

Glancing back at the line of. 
scrimmage, Slaughter thinks Man- 
ning is toast. But Manning doesn't 
fall. In fact-unreal-he's cranking 
up to throw. 

Johnson pivots, his revised mis- 
sion to spot pass interference or 
grabbing the face mask. 

Slaughter reverses himself 
again, releasing downfield, where 
the receivers, having broken off 
their routes, seek open space. 
Slaughter is looking past safety 
Rodney Harrison as David Tyree 
comes to a dead stop in the middle 
ofthe field. Receiver and defender 
leap as one, Tyree soaring a hand 
higher than Harrison, who takes a 
desperate swat at the ball; it briefly 
slips out of Tyree's grasp. No way 
he hangs on, thinks Slaughter. 
Fourth and five. But Harrison's 
lower body slides under Tyree, who 
lands on the safety instead of the 
field. That breaks his fall. The ball 
stays in his hands. 

Johnson runs to mark the spot, 
expecting a booth review. None 
comes. Slaughter, though, is cer- 
tain the guys in the booth are 
frantically eyeballing replays. “I 
promise you, it was reviewed,” he 
says later. "The eame just wasn't 
stopped for it.” 


The two-week lockout that had 
Carl Johnson making bargains 
with God ended the week after 
9/11 when the head of the NFL 
Referees Association, a success- 
ful and outspoken lawyer and NFL 
ref from Arizona, helped win offi- 
cials an immediate 50 percent pay hike. 
Fans know the guy as Ed Hochuli. 
There exists a cult of Hochuli. There's 
actually a website-one of dozens set up 
in homage-called WhatWouldEd 
HochuliDo.com. Fifty-eight years young 
this past Christmas, the messiah of mid- 
field remains a commanding presence in 
voice, manner (continued on page 106) 


“You lent her your evening dress, she's wearing your perfume.... How could I resist?" 


MILF OF THE YEAR: 


SARAH PALIN 


Sassy, spunky, igno- 


rant—and cute as a 
button! Alaska gover- 
nor Sarah Palin (1), a 
Miss Alaska hopeful in 
1984 (2), was picked 
as John McCain's 
(3) running mate. 
She had the GOP's 

needy base at 

hello. Liberals 

loved to hate 


the aspiring VPILF (4) and 
Republican action heroine (5), but 
both sides agreed: She is hot, you 
betcha. Sex shops sold an inflat- 
able Palin (6), activists put her on 
condoms (7), humorists sniggered 
(8), Internet fakers Photoshopped 
(9), pornista Lisa Ann played 

her in Who's Nailin' Paylin? 

(10), Vegas strippers held 6 Sarah 
a look-alike pageant (11), 

and tabloids dug for dirt 

(12). And so our inaugu- 

ral Sarah Palin MILF of the 


Year award goes to.. 
Sarah Palin! 


HELP. STRANDED. NIPPLES 

VERY HARD 

Hiker Jessica Bruinsma, injured and 

stranded in the Alps for 70 hours in 
chilly weather, peeled off her sports bra and sent 
it down the mountain on a cable used for moving 
timber. Workers understood her signal and dis- 
patched a search party. "It certainly beats sending 
up a flare," said one rescuer. 


ald Trump fired PMOY 
Hef to buy a $10,000 
nore sense with 


ALBANY VICE 
Crusading moralizer 
Eliot Spitzer resigned 
as New York governor 
after wiretaps linked him 
to the Emperors Club 
VIP escort agency. The 
scandal made call girl 
Ashley Alexandra Dupré 
a celebrity—but can it 
help her music career? 
For now, wife Silda 
stands by her man, 


PETER OUT 

Christie Brinkley 
split with Peter 
Cook in truly nasty 
divorce proceed- 
ings that included 
detailed accounts of 
his affair with then- 
teenage assistant 
Diana Bianchi and 
his $3,000-a-month 
Internet porn habit. 


her BO naked "i أ‎ 
і. m = 
SEX STILL SELLS 
Eva Mendes took it all off for a bootylicious 
PETA advertisement; Heidi Klum chan- 
neled Tom Cruise in Risky Business for a 
high-energy television 
commercial for the pop- 
ular video game Guitar 
Hero World Tour. 


Ve 


2 


p 


L m 
wil A» ! 


WORLD 
Cyber Girl of the | 

Year Jo Garcia Í | 
(right) sexed up 
Nintendo's Wii Fit 
add-on in videos | 
featuring topless ski- 

ing and yoga. British | 
model Emma Frain | 
followed with topless | 
Wii hula hooping for | 
zootoday.com. 


< | 


DAD AGAINST 
DRUNK DRIVING 

When he was busted 
for DWI in Virginia, 
then-New York rep- 
resentative Vito Fos- 
sella blurted that he 
was en route to visit 
his sick daughter— 
the product of a sur- 
reptitious affair with 
retired Air Force lieu- 
tenant colonel Laura 
Fay. End of career. 


ART IMITATES LIFE 
David Duchovny, 
who plays an over- 
sexed writer on the 
series Californication, 
entered rehab for sex 
addiction. He denied 
he had cheated on 
wife Téa Leoni with 
a tennis instructor 
(and forced a Brit- 
ish tabloid to retract 
- claims that he had). 
Reports pointed to 
an overfondness for 
< 1 Internet porn. 


ATTACK OF THE LIPSTICK CELESBIANS 

Miley Cyrus had sugar for singer Katy Perry (whose 
"| Kissed a Girl" topped the charts), DJ Samantha 
Ronson liked Lindsay Lohan for the same two rea- 
sons we do, and Scarlett Johansson smooched 
Penélope Cruz on-screen and Natalie Portman off. 


LIFT, SEPARATE, DEFEND 
When Hull, U.K. barmaid Vicky 
Parsons was attacked by a 
young robber, the tip of his 
knife pierced her skin, but the serrated blade 


REALITY TV IS A CRUEL NAKED 
| LESBIAN MISTRESS, INDEED 

On her reality dating show A Shot at 
Love Il, TV bisexual Tila Tequila (a 
Cyber Girl in 2002 as Tila Nguyen) 
chose pıaygoy model Kristy Morgan 
from among the 30 male and female 

| candidates—only to be rebuffed. 


JOHNNY, 
WE HARDLY 
KNEW YE 

The National Enquirer 
busted former presi- 
dential hopeful John 
Edwards, whose wife 
has inoperable can- 
cer, for having an affair 
with campaign videog- 
rapher Rielle Hunter. 
Edwards fessed up to 
the fling but denies he's 
Hunter's baby daddy. 


CHÉRIE PICKING 
French president Nicolas Sarkozy 


struck a blow for average- ж 
looking world leaders 
everywhere when he an 


married singer and for- 

mer model Carla Bruni. (EA 
Bruni's history of exhi- 
bitionism moved car- 
toonist Christo Komar 
to do a riff on Eugene 
Delacroix's iconic 
painting Liberty Lead- 
NEWS FLASH ing the People. 

New Zealand's first naked newscaster, Lisa 
Lewis, helped draw a crowd of 100,000 to 
Auckland's Boobs on Bikes parade. 


-— 
STAR FUCKERS 
Sarah Silverman's “I'm 
Fucking Matt Damon” video 
on Jimmy Kimmel Live! was 
funny. Kimmel's “We Are 
the World"-style comeback, 
“I'm Fucking Ben Affleck,” 
featuring Brad Pitt, 
Cameron Diaz, 

Perry Farrell, 

Macy Gray and 

a gospel choir, 

was epic. 


SWINGIN’ SISTER 
CBS set Swingtown in suburban Chicago, so it was only 
logical that Playmate Qiana Chase would be recruited to 
play a Bunny in the Windy City's historic Playboy Club. 


GUESS WHAT—I'M PREGNANT 

"Abstinence only"—the sex-ed cop- 
out favored by conservatives—didn't 
work for Sarah Palin's daughter Bris- 
tol (and hapless mimbo boyfriend 
Levi Johnston), whose rabbit 
died when she was 17. 


THE YEAR IN SEX qe DO U THINK THEY R 
— = Е ON 2 US? 


After denying the charges for 
PORK VINDALOO А NA months, then-Detroit mayor Kwame 
India’s “first toon porn star” debuted in the lom Kilpatrick admitted he had lied under 


online pornographic comic Savita Bhabhi. oath about his affair with his chief of 
The adventures staff, Christine Beatty. The smoking 

| of a lonely, insa- RUSSIAN TO gun? Sexy text messages. 
| tiable sister- — JUDGMENT 


| in-law аге the | 
h h ^ 
| Indian equiva- E When the Mos 


Gee, it's 


^ di kovsky Kor- 

| lent of horny- 2 respondent en felony 
housewife ж E reported that 
f | Porn—see | then-president 
(«| it at savita ” Vladimir Putin 


7 | bhabhi.com. Г. 


| | planned to get 
| | a divorce and 
| | wed flexible 


former gymnast 
ра Alina Kabaeva, CB: And did you 
** the paper was miss me 
mplly shut sexually 
ЗЫ ӘНІН KK: Hell, yeah! 


You couldn't tell, | 
want some more. 
Don't sleep! 


SAVED BY ] KNICK OF TIME 
UNDERWEAR] When a fire broke out in a 
Hartlepool, U.K. kitchen, a 
quick-witted man extinguished 
it with a water-soaked item close at hand: 
large granny panties. "I'm lucky my knickers 
are like a parachute," said their owner. “If they 
were skimpy, they'd have been no use." 


THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID ; 


* оо о ө ө ө ө ө ө ө ө ө ө ө ө о 


"If Paris Hilton thinks my butt looks М 
gross, Т really don't care. At least | 
Thave a butt." 
IT’S ALL GEEK TO HER —Kim Kardashian, responding to 
Playboy Cyber Girl Amanda Hilton's remarks 
Corey and partner Tommy > ч 

Severo walked away CA "I wish I could 
with $250,000 after be sexier, but I 
winning season haven't done badly 

five of the hit reality 4 for myself with 

show Beauty and à ; what I've got." 
the Geek. —Cate Blanchett 
on her image 


# 


"I will never regret 
any of my raunchier 


"I always bare my 


outfits.” n. breasts! It's not like it's 
—Christina only in this film." 
Aguilera on "m —Keira Knightley on 
dressing to thrill 7“ 2008's The Edge of 


© 
E Love; below, proof from 
a 20015 The Hole 


х 
"І plan to wear as % 
little as possible for ^ 
as long as I сап." & 
—Kate Hudson on 


flaunting it 


CHANNELIN' MARILYN 

Lindsay Lohan didn't have a new 
movie in theaters in 2008, but relent- 
less clubbing with her lesbian lover 
made her an evergreen news story. 
A highlight was her tribute to the leg- 
endary Marilyn Monroe—the star who 
launched rLAveov—in New York maga- 
zine. The cover and inside photos are 
re-creations of Marilyn's famous "Last 
Sitting," taken by Bert Stern in 1962. 


NE 
CMS 


WE LOVE A PARADE 
No tax protest this time: These bare- 
naked London ladies rode for a cancer- 


support center—and to promote the 
DVD release of Lady Godiva. 


"т 
THE АВТ OF THE POSSIBLE 
Less than two months before 
the election, controversial sculp- 
tor Daniel Edwards unveiled 
his bust of Michelle Obama 
reimagined as a topless African 
queen. And to women looking 
to get off with a sex toy based on 
our 44th president, headostate 
‚сот said yes, you can. 


GUESS WHAT-I’M 
PREGNANT TOO 
Thomas "Pregnant Man" 
Beatie, a transgender 
male who became great 
with child, gave birth to 
a daughter in June and 
was up the stick again 
by November. 


MR. PLAYBOY MEETS NEW PLAYMATES 
Hef's 82nd year started out with a fond tribute from a birthday- 
suited Pamela Anderson, Miss February 1990. His love life hit a 
speed bump with the departure of main squeeze Holly Madison 
but soon picked back up with the arrival of at least three potential 
new Girls Next Door: college student Amy Leigh Andrews and twins 
Kristina and Karissa Shannon. 


PORN WILL EAT ITSELF 
Porn sales are slumping, no thanks to free 
amateur sex clips on YouPorn and Red- 
Tube. In response, some pros are seeding 
free sites with their own smut. Users beat 
on, boats against the current. 


54 


SIZE MATTERS | 
In Christchurch, New 
Zealand an 80- 
foot-long purple sperm lazed 
about the town square as part 
of the city's art festival. Pur- 
ple? “Probably if | had made 
< it white, peo- 
ple would say, 
“Оһ,” said the 
artist, Dutch- 
f man Joep van 
Lieshout. 


SEX WITH 
CELEBRITIES 
Blowin' Up: 
Pipedream Products' celebrity sex 
dolls include JHo (a Jennifer Lopez 
knockoff), Dirty Christina (an ersatz 
Aguilera), Crazy Daisy (Jessica Simp- 
son) and Jessica Sin (née Alba). See 
pipedreamproducts.com. 

Hey, Ho, Let's Go: Marky Ramone 
lent his name to a safe-sex kit con- 
taining condoms, lube and an STD 
resource card. The metal case 
bears a modified Ramones logo 
with the slogan TOO TUFF TO BREAK. 
See readytwogo.net. 


SAY WHAT? 
Notable terms, titles and buzzwords 
from 2008: 
The Bling-Blinger, the Dripper, the 
Milker, the Sleeper: A few of the more 
than 100 classifications of orgasms in 
Karen Manning's Orgasm Dictionary. 
“Finger in the Butt, Mexico”: Pop 
ditty by German singer Mickie Krause 
that raised the hackles of Mexican dip- 
lomats. (In German the title rhymes.) 
Krause's previous releases include 
“Go Home, You Old Shit" and “10 
Naked Hairdressers." 
Slutbucks: Name given to Star- 
bucks by a Christian 
group that claimed 
the chain's tempo- 
rary logo showed a 
| “naked woman with 
mm her legs spread like 
^ a prostitute." 
Gastrosexual: The lat- 
est “-osexual” tag, this one 
describing men who learn to cook in 
order to get laid. 


CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 

Why Can't We Do It on the Road? 
In Miami Beach cops busted a rolling 
whorehouse operating in a $250,000 
bus and charging a $40 cover fee. Extras, 
such as oral sex, went for $100. 
Exhibits A and B: Japanese "big bust" 
bikini model Serena Kozakura, con- 
victed in 2007 of property destruction 
after supposedly breaking into a man's 
room through a narrow opening, was 


defense success- 
fully argued she 
could not possibly 
have squeezed her 
44-inch chest through a nine-inch- 
wide space, as alleged. A much-viewed 
YouTube clip shows her trying and fail- 
ing—miserably—to do so. 
Sucking on a Pole: In London a 
Polish building contractor doing work 
in a hospital was fired for having sex 
with a vacuum cleaner. He explained 
he was vacuuming his underwear, 
which he asserted is a "common 
practice" in Poland. 


Fuhgeddaboudit: Italy's highest 
appeals court deemed grabbing one's 
own crotch in public a criminal offense. 
The decree applies not only to scratch- 
ing but also to the superstitious practice 
of grabbing the jewels at the mention 
of illness or death—an Italian way of 

knocking on wood (which may 

occasionally ensue). 


WHY CAN'T WE 
ALL JUST GET 


No Picnic for the Table: In Ohio a man 
was arrested for having sex with his pic- 
nic table. Sex with a picnic table isn't a 
felony; doing it naked near a school is. 


UNCONVENTIONAL SOLUTIONS 
Shooting Blanks: In a bandit-ridden 
region of India officials are using guns 
to fight overpopulation: Men who 
submit to vasectomy surgery are fast- 
tracked for a firearms license. 

Safe Garter: Brazilian lingerie maker 
Lucia Lorio introduced ladies' undies 
fitted with a GPS tracking device. Lorio 
touted it as a safety feature for women 
in urban areas; feminists called it a 
high-tech chastity belt. 


SIZE MATTERS II 

To protest the innate chauvinism of 
vehicles (?), Finnish artist Mimosa 
Pale offers rides in her Mobile Female 


SIZE MATTERS Ill 


Monument—a giant 
vagina on wheels— 
which she tows 
around the streets 
of Helsinki. 


ANIMALS IN 
THE SACK 
Okay, But No Kissing: Researchers 
in the Republic of the Congo snapped 
the first photos of gorillas performing 
face-to-face intercourse. It had been 
believed that humans and bonobos 
were the only primates so inclined, with 
the rest favoring rear entry. 
Fresh-Picked: According to a study 
published in Animal Behaviour, some 
male monkeys trade grooming for sex. 
Female macaques normally have sex 
1.5 times an hour, but after grooming 
by a male the rate jumps to 3.5. 
Mushy Stuff: A researcher at the 
University of Washington found that 
oysters, long thought to be aphrodi- 
siacs, are hardly intimate in their own 
lovemaking. Male and female oysters 
release into the water millions of sperm 
and eggs coated with a massive num- 
ber of proteins, not all of which are 
compatible. It's then up to the little bug- 
gers to figure out for themselves who 
can fertilize whom. 


SCIENCE! SCIENCE! SCIENCE! 

As always, researchers can't keep their 
mind out of the bedroom. A roundup of 
findings from all over the globe: 
Australia: Depressed women have more 
sex! University of Hawaii: Fat women 
have more sex! India: Sex can make you 
fatter! Pfizer: Viagra may help women 
on antidepressants achieve orgasm! 
University of Miami: Viagra may help 
you win the Tour de France! Texas A&M: 
Watermelons may have Viagra-like prop- 
erties! Sweden: Coffee may cause a 
woman's breasts to shrink! 


UNPLEASANT SIMILE OF THE YEAR 
How the mighty have fallen. Guy 
Ritchie cited, of all things, wife 
Madonna's body as a deciding fac- 
tor in their divorce. He reportedly told 
friends that making love to the super- 
buff sex symbol was “like cuddling up 
to a piece of gristle.” 


A British documentary focuses on women 
with a condition called objectum-sexuality: 
Unable to connect emotionally with fel 
low humans, they fall in love with objects 


great and small. Its star is Erika, an Ameri- 
can woman who married that ultimate phallic 
symbol, the Eiffel Tower, and changed her name 


to—wait for it—Erika La Tour Eiffel. 


“Td like to be your valentine again—as soon as you're up for it.” 


o 
E 
K 
© 
© 
a 
= 
En 
d 
um 


Seven Things You Should Know 
About Our New World Order 


> 1 PEEP IS MAINSTREAM 


Don't be embarrassed about exposing your 
private life. Everyone's doing it. Take John 
Egly and his family, They hail from Pooles- 
ville, Maryland. In 2004 the Fox television 
show Trading Spouses called up Egly. He 
had never seen Trading Spouses or imagined 
himself on television. In fact, his 15-year-old 
daughter sent in the requisite application 
to the then fledgling show. "I picked up the 
phone,’ Egly tells me, "and they said, ‘This is - 
Trading Spouses calling: And I said, "Thank 

you very much, but we're not really into that. " 

But guess what. The Eglys were into it. A fun- N 1 
loving liberal Jewish couple living their ver- | 
sion of the American dream, complete with | 
four kids and seven horses, the Eglys seemed 
eccentric enough to be interesting and nor- 
mal enough to appeal to the mainstream. 
As for the Eglys, well, they were offered 
the chance to trade a week of their lives for $50,000 and a stint on 
national TV. Who wouldn't do that deal? What's notable about real 
estate appraiser John Egly and his family is what they aren't: They 
aren't freaks, exhibitionists or yokels. Egly is a father and husband 
from Maryland. He's the everyman of peep, a symbol of the moment. 
when peep culture went mainstream. Fifty years ago Egly's stint on 
reality TV would have led to humiliation and social isolation. His fam- 
ily would have been considered pariahs. As David Lyle, the bombastic 
president of cable TV's Fox Reality Channel, tells me, "Fifty years ago 
the only confession people made was 'Forgive me, Father, for I have 
sinned.” But by 2004, when the Egly family made its debut, televised 
wife swapping was just one more peep-culture sensation in a society 
rapidly becoming inured to titillating domestic revelation. Reality TV 
had already exploded into the mainstream with the 2000 release of 
Big Brother in the U.K. and Survivor in the U.S. Jennifer Ringley of 
JenniCam had already wired her dorm room and gained notoriety 
as the first no-particular-talent Net celebrity. Paris Hilton's "private" 
home sex video had already spread the virus of peep from computer 
to computer, a flickering night-vision portent of things to come. 


№ 2 THE LONELY-PLANET THEORY: PEEP SHOWS 
US THAT OTHER PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE US 


Peep culture, in which we exchange our personal lives for the chance 
to provide entertainment, advice, inspiration or catharsis to others, is 
not about the money. As David Lyle, president of Fox Reality, puts it, 
"They're not doing it for money, They're doing it because they want to." 
Consider the case of New Jersey blogger Lisa Sargese, She writes an 
excruciatingly detailed blog about her life before and after gastric- 
bypass surgery. Here's a sample: "Most people stand in the shower. 1 
did not, Holding my body upright was a workout I could not sustain. 
Instead, I sat on the edge of the tub with the shower curtain tucked 
under me to keep the shower water inside the tub." Sargese tells me 
she started blogging because she wanted to tell the truth about her 
lonely, isolating life. As she writes on her blog, "Sometimes knowing 
that we're not alone with our weird habits or our uncomfortable feel- 
ings makes us less ashamed," This is the lonely-planet theory of peep 
culture, We peep because the world is a big lonely place, and this is a 
way to make connections and alleviate some of that loneliness. When 
we peep, we learn that our problems are your problems. We share 
something, and that makes us feel better, alive, part of the world. 


> З PRIVACY IS OVERRATED 


The challenge isn't to protect your privacy in the age of peep culture, 
It's to figure out how best to capitalize on your private life—whether 
that's selling your intimate stories to the highest bidder or agreeing 
to have your purchases monitored in exchange for rewards. Privacy 
is no longer an inalienable right; it's just another commodity to sell. 
The arc of Washington, D.C. law professor Daniel Solove's thinking 
is instructive. In his first book, The Digital Person: Technology and 


Ө "ex. FREE! 


mia 


Privacy in the Information Age, Solove makes a familiar argument: 
He warns that post-9/11 antiterrorism initiatives, coupled with cor- 
porate zeal for customer databases, threaten to end privacy. But in 
his second book, The Future of Reputation: Gossip, Rumor and Pri- 
vacy on the Internet, Solove notes that where once "it was easy to 
take sides," the landscape has now changed, As he puts it, today 
"we're invading each other's privacy, and we're also even invading 
our own privacy." It's simple to accuse governments—in collusion 
with big bad corporations—of stealing privacy. But it's harder to 
blame bloggers, reality-TV supplicants and high school MySpacers 
for revealing their own secrets. Actually, there's little to suggest 
that privacy was ever a big part of human life. As Janna Malamud 
Smith writes in Private Matters: In Defense of the Personal Life, 
"Much that is written about privacy is premised on the idea that 
privacy, once plentiful, is only now endangered. While privacy is en- 
dangered, it was hardly a staple in the past, when most people had 
little" A survey of the anthropological record shows this to be true: 
The Iroquois of upstate New York, to pick just one of many possible 
examples, dwelled in longhouses filled with multiple multigenera- 
tional families. The peep explosion suggests we'd rather live in the 
longhouse than in the gated suburban community. We now enthusi- 
astically exchange isolation and privacy for the shared reciprocity of 
community that people took for granted 500 years ago. 


> 4 PEEP MAKES US MISERABLE 


Despite our eagerness to exchange private life for community, peep 
doesn't make us happy. Peep culture does a good job connecting us 
to others and making all of us feel we have the potential to be spe- 
cial, but seemingly effortless connection turns out to be a lot of work, 
Peep comes with a price. It turns us into actors. We're always pre- 
tending, posing, working on our profiles. In return we expect atten- 
tion and anticipate stardom. "One amazing thing that doesn't seem to 
change; says Los Angeles casting director Tamra Barcinas, who cast 
the documentary American Teen and countless reality shows, "is that 
each person seems to think they are a unique and special snowflake 
and have something to offer that nobody else has ever seen." In the 
age of peep, the onus is on us to get noticed. We're special, and our 
life stories deserve attention. If you don't pay attention to me, I need 
to come up with better ways to get you to pay attention to me. Today, 
as psychology professor Jean Twenge, author of the book Generation 
Me, explains, "Your identity is your product." The pressure to create 
an identity worth peeping at can make us miserable. Lisa Sargese's 
career is interesting here. Early in her campaign to reveal the truth 
about her life as an obese woman undergoing gastric-bypass surgery, 
she railed against the silence that met her posts. "LEAVE ME A COM- 
MENT,” she begged in all caps on Wednesday, December 13, 2006. 
"Let me know you're out there! ;-)" Two years later Sargese no longer 
begs for comments. They arrive with enough frequency to convince 
her she has a future as a celebrity therapist. "What is this DRIVE I 


: БШ A Шы 
What compels people to post about their most intimate thoughts and moments? And what 
compels us to read about them? Maybe peep culture simply fulfills a basic human need. 


have to be some bad-ass rock-star celebrity?" she writes. 
"I don't know why I want more. I just do." So Sargese has 
gone from just wanting to reach out to others to believing 
she may be the next Oprah. She tells me her ultimate aim is 
to look "hot" and achieve stardom as a self-help guru. I ask 
her if maybe she isn't deluding herself a bit. After all, there's 
a big difference between being encouraged by a small group. 
ofardent readers with a like-minded worldview and believing 
you're destined for fame. She is unruffled by the question: 
"Even if I'm deluding myself, if it perpetuates the delusion 
that people can be rich, famous and successful, that may 
give them the inspiration to continue doing it. Just by their 
persistence they will succeed." But persistence doesn't 
always succeed. Ask the millions of bloggers who post daily 
in anonymity or all the Lonely teenagers with 500 friends on 
Facebook. Now as before, many of us remain anonymous in 
the crowd no matter how hard we try to get noticed. We're 
not being peeped, and it drives us crazy. 


»5 


Go to photo-sharing site webshots.com and enter the search 
phrase "breaking the seal.” You will find hundreds of photos 
of people about to take a piss. We peep for friendship, for 
community, for the opportunity to reinvent ourselves, There 
are plenty of reasons to peep, but none explains why we want 
to look at ourselves and others going to the bathroom, Peep 
is addictive. Or to put it another way, peep culture teaches us 
to "break the seal." Consider the rise of Twitter, Twitter users 
(there are as many as 6 million of them) report on their lives 
several times a day. The messages go to the in-boxes, cell 
phones and websites of friends, family, acquaintances and 
even the occasional stranger. For instance, by clicking on a 
random face on the Twitter website, I discover that Bridget 
of Buffalo ("Bio: dancer. baker. teacher. student. soon to be a 
librarian. *smiles*") is complaining about the rain, is listen- 
ing to her dog snore, is at work. Twitter is peep without the 
drama of reality TV or the pretension of blogging. "We became 
addicted very quickly," says rumpled and tattooed Twitter 
founder Jack Dorsey, explaining how the concept of con- 
stant life updates immediately took hold in the office, Dorsey 
tells me about "connection with very low expectation." He 
talks about using Twitter to achieve a greater rapport with 
his family. He describes one night when he Twittered 700 or 
so people, telling them he was in a bar, drinking whiskey. "It's 
funny because 1 actually started drinking late in life, at like 
22 or so. So my parents, who live in St. Louis, never really 
knew I started drinking. We were drinking whiskey, and I de- 
cided to Twitter about it. And my mom was like, "Т knew you 
drank cider sometimes, but whiskey?'" The more we peep, 
the more it seems okay to put everything out there for public 
consumption. Like going to the bathroom when your bladder 
is full, you start doing it naturally, without thinking. "There's a 
sense,” says Dorsey, “that you're just putting information out 
there, so there's not so much weight to what you're writing." 
Connection without expectation turns out to be addictive. 
Once you start, why stop? 


be 


We like to think of peep culture as an amateur phenomenon, 
something the kids are doing for fun. But peep isn't a fad; 
it's big business. Corporate entities actively encourage us to 
consume the lives of others as if they were bags of barbecue 
potato chips. They promise to protect our privacy, but they 
make money by recording, retaining and repurposing every 
blog post, Amazon book review, text message, product pref- 
erence and YouTube upload. Some of the biggest companies 
in the world are in the business of fostering and making pos- 
Sible what are often self-destructive peep behaviors. A quick 
example: Roughly two years (concluded on page 110) 


American Innovation takes peep cul- 
ture to the next level when photog- 
rapher Tom Howard sneaks a camera 
Into the execution of Ruth Snyder. 
The resulting photo covers the front 
page of the New York Dally News. 


DAILY.F| NEWS EXIRA | 


Allen Fünt starts his radio show 
Candid Microphone. The following 
year it moves to television, where It 
lives in various incarnations for the 
next 50-plus ye. 


A PBS show chronicles the real-life 
problems of the Louds, a fragmenting 
California family, Camera crews film the 
Louds for seven solid months to get 
enough material for the 12-hour serias, 
Highlights include son Lance coming 
‚out of the closet and the captured-on- 
camera moment when Pat tells hus- 
band William she wants a divorce. 


In this "documentary" Madonna 
shows future starlets how to stay 
in the límelight no matter what, As 
Warren Beatty puts It in the movie 
Kafter Madonna's doctor asks her 
if she would prefer to talk off cam- 
to live off 
Why would 
you say something if it's off camera? 
What point is there of existing?" 


MTV premieres The Real World. Five 
hundred people try out to be one of 
seven to share a four-bedroom down- 
town Manhattan loft for 13 weeks. 


Jennifer Ringley wires her dorm 
room with webcams and starts 
Jennicam. She lives her life in full 
view of the public from 1996 until 
the end of 2003, inspiring upcoming 
tions of lifecasters, including 


т does not show up In 
184 but in 2000. That's 


Blg Broti 
London ii 
аг the TV show of the same 
bunch of 


the 


house and filmed 24 hours a day, 
becomes a worldwide phenome- 
non, Also їп 2000, a bunch of extro- 
verts trapped together becomes a 
huge hit called Survivor. 


Heather Armstrong Is fired from her 
web-deslgn Job after she mocks her 
employers online. Armstrong warns 
her fellow bloggers, “I was fired from 
my job for this web- 
site because | had 
written storl 
included people in my. 
workplace. My advice. 
to you is, be ye not so 
stupid." Dooce, the 
name of Armstrong's 
blog, enters the pop- 
ular lexicon as dooced—getting fired 
for blogging about your job. 


A French Canadian kid films himself 
pretending he's Darth Maul, School- 
mates accidentally find the videotape, 
and the first viral-video super: 
is born, The Star Wars Kid's vides 
viewed more than 900 million times, 


A few weeks before the start of Paris 
Hilton's TV. 
ries The Simple 
Life, her sex 
tape Is all over 
the Internet, in- 
augurating the 
craze of celeb- 
rity sex tapes 
suddenly com- 
ing to the atten- 
tion of an unsus- 
pecting public. 


The website Is the first to offer detalls 
of Mel Gibson's drunk-driving arrest 
ind subsequent anti-Semitic rant, The 
site (a joint venture with Telepictures 
Productions and AOL, which is owned 
by Time Warner) goes on to bring us 
the first online pictures of Britney 
Spears's shaved head. 


60 


MISS FEBRUARY JESSICA BURCIAGA IS A QUEEN OF HEARTS 


very hand is a winner when your cards are dealt by 

woman with a perfect pair. Meet Jessica Burciaga, a 

25-year-old southern Californian who had been study- 

ing sports broadcasting in college before she hopped 
to the Mansion and auditioned to be a Bunny blackjack dealer. 
Out of hundreds of hopefuls, Jessica was chosen to work at 
the then new Playboy Club at the Palms in Las Vegas. (This 
was 2006.) *We were all young and didn't have a lot of experi- 
ence," she says. *They literally trained us in eight weeks, and 
we were nervous because we were dealing with a lot of money. 
The pit boss and security were looking over our shoulders at all 
times.” Jessica caught on in a snap. “One time,” she says, “I got 
a $5,000 chip as a tip." Jessica grew homesick and returned to 
the L.A. area after a few months, though she still loves to visit 


Sin City. “I am so close to my family, and I missed not being 
able to go over to my mom's or grandma's or hang out with 
my two brothers whenever I wanted," she says. *My grandma 
is my best friend. Whenever I need to talk to somebody, I want 
my grandma. She and my mom both love the magazine and 
were really supportive of my decision to pose. My grandma said, 
"Take me to the Mansion. I want to meet Hef! I'd be a Playmate 
if I were young again." " Miss February loves the I , the 
ocean and the beach boys, so to speak. “Pm a total flip-flops 
girl. I like to have a few drinks and chill by the beach. That's 
my style. Guys at L.A. clubs try to impress you with talk about 
money and cars, and that turns me off.” Another thing that 
turns Jessica off? Boring men. She says, *I need someone who 
gives me a run for my money. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 


PLAYMATE DATA SHEET 

NAME: ol 

pust: OAC msr ӘЧ нь. DH 
۱ u 

wur. "'O Qe wa: VIO 0 


BIRTH DATE: UT ana ta 


AMBITIONS : To үө 


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TURN-ONS Semone- who is ambitious, 
(a | ( А 

TURNOFFS Laziness у Cocviness $ liac. ——— 

ur sanos OO Younger poters llo +23, _ 


MY ETHNIC BACKGROUND: CON © 

JOBS 1 HAD BEFORE PLAYBOY: ni 5) 

MY FAVORITE TV sum II Love АС 

MY NIGNTLY кіші жиек зю: Д- Ave TO Те е а. 
buoole parh every MAN. 


y 
MY BEST KARAOKE SONG: үе ce Heart 


Deven years old with 
mu big 1980s Mair. 


FEA grade. 


ЕТТЕ РЕТ 
ЖЕ 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


What's the difference between a stockbroker 
and a pigeon? 

A pigeon can still make a deposit on a 
Lexus. 


If the Jacksonville Jaguars are known as the 
Jags, and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers are 
known as the Bucs, what does that make the 
"Tennessee Titans? 


The economy is so bad that wives are having 
sex with their husbands because they can't 
afford to buy new batteries. 


Why don't men stop to ask for directions? 
Because they know how to read a map. 


Whats the worst thing about the rising unem- 
ployment rate? 

It's hard to screw your girlfriend when her 
husband is hanging around the house. 


А man recovering from a heart attack asked 
his doctor how long he should wait before һау- 
ing sex. 

“You can have sex right away,” the doctor 
answered, “but only with your wife—I don't 
want you to get too excited." 


What do a dildo and tofu have in common? 
They're both meat substitutes. 


A lonely old lady was sitting on a park bench 
when a handsome older man sat down next 
to her. 

"Are you new to the neighborhood?" the 
woman asked. 

“I lived here years ago,” he said. 

“So where were you all these years?" she 
asked. 

"In prison," he said. 

*Why did they put you in prison?" she 
asked. 

He looked at her and very quietly said, “I 
killed my wife." 

“Oh!” the woman said. “So you're single..." 


How can you get AIDS from a toilet seat? 
By sitting down before the last guy gets up. 


Аса county fair a little girl walked up to 
a clown who was creating intricate balloon 
animals. 

“What are you making?" she asked. 

He sighed and said, "Minimum wage." 


Question: You are having a threesome, when 
two extra girls enter, one leaves, three come in, 
two go and five more jump in unexpectedly. 
How many people are in your bed? 

Answer: Who the hell cares? 


A slightly overweight woman was opening up 
to the group at her Weight Watchers mecting. 
"My husband insists I come to these meetings 
because he would rather screw a woman with 
a trim figure." 

“Well,” the group leader assured her, "what- 
ever helps you reach your goal!" 

“You don't understand," the woman said. 
"He does it while I'm stuck at these damn 
meetings." 


What do Disney World and Viagra have in 
common? 

‘They both make you wait an hour for a two- 
minute ride. 


ру 


An eight-year-old swaggered into a lounge 
and demanded of the waitress, “Give me a 
double scotch on the rocks.” 

“What do you want to do,” the waitress said, 
“get me in trouble?” 

“Maybe later,” the kid said. “Right now I just 
want the scotch." 


Afer a night on the town a man picked up 
two picture-perfect blondes and took them 
back to his place for a romp. 

“Just out of curiosity," the man asked them, 
"are you two sisters?" 

"No," one of the blondes said, blushing, "we 
aren't even Catholic." 


Send your jokes to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, 730 
Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10019, or by 
e-mail through our website at jokes.playboy.com. 
PLAYBOY will pay $100 to the contribulors whose 
submissions are selected. 


fucking hate Portland. 
So earnest and smug. 
There was a Portland guy 
fiere in Shelton on a meth pop, 
and even he had it—that too- 
sweet-to-believe thing. Like a lot 
of chalkers, the dude's teeth were 
rotted, so he couldn't say his rs. | 
used to fuck with him about it. 
So you're from Poland? 
Po'tland, the dude would say 
calmly. 
So you prefer being called 
Polish or Polack? 
No, I'm Рот Po'tland. 
Fuck off, Polack. 
Then one day on yard, someone 
racked that poor helpless meth 
head for standing too close and 
knocked out two of those black hol- 
low uppers. It was weird—afterward 
he could say his rs again, but he 
had a low humming whistle when- 
ever he spoke. | called him Kenny G 
after that. He actually believed this 
was an improvement. 
| suppose I've hated Portland 
since | took a pop there. It was a 
shame too, because it was the per- 
fect Portland scam. A guy in my 
uilding was a volunteer recruiter for 
reenpeace, and one day when he 
left his car unlocked | stole a bunch 
of pamphlets and sign-up logs. | 
couldn't use that stuff in Seattle 
so | drove down to Union Station 
in Portland, where | picked out two 
runaways who looked old enough to 
be college students. | put the kids 
in downtown Portland, trolling for 
Lexus-and-Rockport money. There 
was this girl, a little redhead named 
Julie, and a loaf named Kevin, | put 
gay Kevin on Burnside a block from 
Powell's and sweet Julie on Broad- 
9 way, in front of Nordstrom. 
She S Kevin was okay—friendly, made 
good eye contact—but Julie was 


sweet. the find: 19, short curly hair and 


what looked like a decent body 


e under her hippie dress. She'd 
vulnerable. >т kicked out of her house for 
accusing her stepdad of feeling 
her up, and while I'd heard that 
story a hundred times, it was harsh 
coming from her because, like a lot 
of good-looking girls, she seemed 

convinced it was her fault. 
| figured the bookstore would 
be the better place, but it wasn't 
even close to Julie's haul at Nord- 
strom—no one more eager to help 
the environment than a guilty 
white liberal dropping 60 on a 
tie. But then | switched them, 
and Julie kicked ass at the book- 
store, too. No, it was all her. She 
had something—! don't know—a 

genuine vulnerability. 

72 (continued on page 94) 


74 


Among TV pitchmen, Justin Lone ranks 
himself near the middle. "| sit some 
where between the ‘Time to make the 
doughnuts' guy and the 'Dude, you're 
getting a Dell’ kid,” he says, In Hollywood, 
however, Long is moving up the ladder 
fast. After teaming with Bruce Willis in 
Live Free or Die Hard and stealing his 
Scene as an adult-film star in Zack and 
Miri Make a Porno, the Connecticut native 
now joins an A-list ensemble—alongside 
Scarlett Johansson and Ben Affleck- 
їп He's Just Not That Into You. Long plays 
an advice-slinging restaurateur with a 
taste for beautiful women and nice 
clothes. Offscreen, things are different 
"Whenever there's a portrait of the 
future in film," he says, "everyone is 
wearing a black bodysuit, That is the 
Ideal situation for me, It makes things 
much easier- plus | like unitards." 


SHIRT C 
TROUSERS 
TIE 

BELT 


WATCH 


LO) 


| 


FASHION BY 


UAL COMPUTER 
UAL COMPL 


JOSEPH 


AC BU 


Y 


TER G 


с 


0 


€ SUIT ($1,990) 


€ SHIRT ($68) 


€ BELT ($150) 


€ SHIRT ($225) 


€ TROUSERS ($375) 


€ BELT ($175) 


€ WATCH ($2,499) 


€ SHOES ($195) 


76 


OUR TEAM OF DEDICATED GEARHEADS SPENT THE 
PAST 12 MONTHS DRIVING EVERYTHING NEW UNDER 
THE SUN ON ROADS AND RACETRACRS ACROSS THE 


UNITED STATES AND EUROPE. THE MOST PROGRES- 
SIVE GREEN TECHNOLOGY, THE FASTEST SPORTS 
CARS, LOAD-HAULING PICKUPS AND STEALTH 
SPEEDSTERS—IF IT'S OUT THERE, WE HAMMERED ITS 
THROTTLE. HERE'S THE BEST OF THE BEST. 


БЕШ LEST YOU forget, the Mini was launched in 1959 by 
Sahighway | the British Motor Corporation and became a 1960s 
turbocharged 172 icon, Under the stewardship of BMW the marque was 
1.6-liter 14 6.7 seconds 524,350 relaunched in 2001. Today it endures as the little car 
that does it all. The new and very affordable S Clubman—really an extended hatchback with a neat third door on the passenger 
side—adds space and rear legroom to the standard Mini. There's plenty of room for a couple of surfboards, yet the S Clubman 
doesn't lose any agility, go-kart adroitness or efficiency, combining the footprint of an econobox with the athletic ability of a sports 
machine. We took one to our favorite West Virginia back roads, where deserted byways whisper, "Get on it!" With plenty of engine, 
backed by a crisp six-speed manual, this automobile has more than enough to raise your blood pressure. For just under 25 grand 
you get 177 foot-pounds of torque and a top speed of 139 mph. The standard suspension rides a tad rough, but if you're into this 
car's mystique, all seems as it should. Mini claims it has around 150 trillion combinations of options, accessories and performance 
upgrades to personalize your model. Buy one and you're driving an icon that just gets better with age. 


auto industry is in free fall, We don't even know if General Motors 
will be in bankruptcy by the time you read this. What a bizarre moment for the com- 
pany to unveil the new ZR1—the meanest, most powerful Corvette ever. Zero to 60 
faster than any current production Ferrari. More horsepower than any Lamborghini 
you can buy in America. A top speed of 205 mph. And the $104,820 tag is half what, 
say, a Ferrari California will run you. This torrid beauty is the answer to every Vette 
owner's prayers, as well as a reason to wave the American flag. The second you step 
into the spare but cool cockpit, you know you're in for an experience. With superb 
carbon-ceramic Brembo brakes, fat and sticky Michelin Pilot Sport PS2 rubber, 
a competition-style dual-plate clutch and a close-ratio six-speed manual, the ZR1 
loafs at legal speeds and still delivers 20 EPA highway mpg. The magnetic road- 
sensitive suspension compensates for surface changes. On the track, the ZR1 squats, 
accelerates without fishtailing and absolutely streaks. Altogether you get race-car 
performance and a surprisingly compliant commute. If you can get your hands on a 
ZR1—Chevy is building fewer than 2,000—it will hold its value for a long time. 


77 


78 


ALFA ROMEO 8С COMPETIZIONE 


Horsepower: h 
Zeroto60: - ls 


is a magi- 
cal Italian name—a main- 
stay on European roads 
and once the most domi- 


nant marque in international racing. But Alfa has been gone from these shores for years. Now the swoopy 8C Berlinetta—launched 
as a 2009 model—has arrived in the States. Bolstered by the mighty Fiat organization, its soul a 450 bhp twin cam front mid- 
mounted V8 (similar to the Maserati GranTurismo's), the Alfa is poised to make history. It's packed with exotic features like carbon- 
fiber seats; drilled, vented and floating front disc brakes with six-piston calipers; and an electrohydraulic transaxle with normal, 
manual and sport modes. But the 8C's styling is what grabs us: It's quintessentially Italian yet unlike anything we've ever seen. 


Can Alfa Romeo make it in the States again? The 8C proves the company is willing to give it a hell of a go. 


Corvette ZR1 vs. 
Nissan GT-R 


PLAYBOY PITS THE TWO HOTTEST 2009 


LAUNCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER IN 
A RUBBER-SHREDDING TRACK DAY 


By A.J. Baime 


When we turned up with the Corvette ZRI and 
Nissan GT-R at the new Monticello Motor Club 
northwest of Manhattan, jaws hit the pavement. 
How hot are these machines? Club members who 
own $400,000 superexotics wanted to drive our 
cars. We were there to see which would outdo 
the other on Monticello's awesome track, with its 
22 corners and flat-out back straight. The dri 

ing team: myself and Bloomberg News car col- 


umnist Jason Harper. | started off in the Nissan, 
with Jason behind me in the Vette. When you 
accelerate in the GT-R you're struck by the 3.8- 
liter twin-turbo V6's aeronautical exhaust note. 
With the transmission in R-mode (racing), you 
can paddle-shift in ,2 seconds, You hit 100 mph 
faster than you can say "Nabeyaki udon,” But 
it's not the GT-R's acceleration that makes for an 
unbelievable track experience. The car can do 


the timing for a 1970s-style 
muscle-car revival is horrendous. Yet 
Dodge's Hemi Challenger SRT8 is a 


pec 58 
Zero to 60: е blast to drive. We hustled опе around 


California's Willow Springs raceway and couldn't believe its agility and poise. The steering is spot-on, and the brakes seem 
fade-proof. The lusty V8 blows an exhaust rap through its oversize tailpipes that sends chills up your spine. Cutting the Chal- 
lenger down to merely oversize, the Dodge boys clipped a Charger sedan platform by four inches, kept the fully independent 
suspension all around and fitted huge Brembo disc brakes, ABS, ESP and a lateral g-force sensor that knows when you're 
ripping into a hot corner and primes the brakes for you. Stylists kept an original 1970 Challenger in the studio for reference, 
thus the born-again beauty's muscular hips and outside filler cap. Purists will want the six-speed manual with an old-style 
“pistol grip" shifter. To complete the effect, go for the black-on-black leather, aluminum-accented interior and four-bomb 
analog gauge panel. The sound system mates 13 speakers with a 322-watt amp and a booming 200-watt subwoofer. Don't 
try to challenge this tough coupe on any score except fuel economy. You'll Lose. 


DODGE CHALLENGER SRT8 — — 


BEST GAS SIPPER: upto 
45 highway 


1.3-liter 14 


E 110 
with electric motor 


11 seconds 


$24,220 you get 


$24,220 Soric 14 engine 


THE REVISED Honda Civic Hybrid is a little late to the party 
that Toyota's Prius started, but it was worth the wait. For just 


a roomy compact four-door with a 1.3-liter 
and an electric motor, plus a continuously 


variable automatic transmission. Feather foots claim up to 45 mpg highway (though your mileage will vary). Compared with the 
Prius, the Honda's price tag and mileage are roughly equal, though we prefer its plain body to the Toyota's wonkish styling. The ride 
is surprisingly comfortable, and the roomy trunk is a plus. No plugging in is necessary; the battery recharges automatically during 
braking. To keep the sticker low, Honda engineers replaced the rear discs with drum brakes and ditched the folding rear seats and 
sunroof. But stability control is now standard. You can jazz up your fuel sipper with a leather interior, ABS and traction control, but 
if you buy this greenie as a daily commuter, our advice is to keep the extras down and take your savings straight to T-bills. 


anything. Take a corner too hot? No problem. 
The computer guts deliver power to the proper 
wheels so you don't get sideways. Downshift 
mid-corner? The transmission is so smooth you 
barely feel the jolt. You can break all the rules. 


Still, after a few laps Jason blew past me in the 
Corvette. Bastard. We switched cars, and | knew 
the moment I revved the Vette's supercharged 
6,2-liter V8 that | was dealing with a different 


animal. This is GM's most powerful production 
car ever (638 hp to the Nissan's 480). You feel 
confident on the track—until you enter a turn 
too quickly and you realize: This car will bite 
you if you're not careful. The more comfortable 
1 grew, the faster 1 went, diving deeper into 
corners before crunching those massive disc 
brakes, then ripping out with no hint of over- 
steer. Approaching Monticello's back straight, | 


tucked in behind Jason. After the right-hander 
1 jumped to the side and summoned all 638 of 
those thoroughbreds. There Jason was, fading 
in my rearview. Our decision: The Vette's faster, 
but the GT-R can do no wrong. A driver with 
technical skills will go for the Vette any day. 
Most others will prefer the GT-R. A five-year- 
old could put up impressive lap times in this 
masterpiece of Japanese engineering. 


BEST PICKUP: 


5.4-Ійег V8 320 


Dodge's redesigned Ram and Ford's new F-150 are both outstanding. It was close, but we went with 
the Ford (though the Platinum is pictured, we tested the Lariat 4x4 SuperCrew with a 5.4-liter V8). 
The F-150 will haul a 3,030-pound payload and tow a whopping 11,300 pounds. FoMoCo's biggest 
V8 has 390 foot-pounds of torque and runs on gas and E85. The precise steering and rigid chassis 


6.2-liter Vi 


that hammers you from zero to 60 


9 seconds 14 and 18 with the 4x4 option 


make twisty roads a treat. Ford offers 35 variations in three cab styles with four box options. 


BEST VALUE SPORTS SEDA! 


3.7-liter V6 272 


Mazda's gone edgy with the new Mazda, a stylish, perfectly balanced six-speed sport sedan 
built especially for the North American market. We blazed a Mazda6 on L.A's challenging 
Mulholland Drive, with its off-camber turns and steep cliff drops. Cornering with confidence, 
diving into blind corners and stopping on a dime, the rock-steady Mazda6 proved it's the 


closest thing Japan has to a BMW 3 Series. TI 


BEST CONVERTIBLI 


$38,965 


$135,875 


4.5 seconds. 12 city, 19 highway 


The 2009 51.63 AMG traces its ancestry to the still coveted 1956 30051. (the open 
version of the classic gull-wing coupe) and is hands down the best-handling SL 
ever. MB engineers married a huge AMG engine (AMG being the exclusive perfor- 
mance arm of Mercedes) to a seven-speed multiclutch gearbox and tossed it all 
into an incredibly stylish convertible body with lots of added electronic perfor- 
mance voodoo, Bonus feature: Race Start, an F1-inspired launch-control option 


mph in 4.5 seconds. 


$67,025 


ity, 
5,3 seconds 18 highway 


Think of the new BMW X6 crossover as a classy four-door coupe on stilts, with 
all-wheel drive and loads of electronic drive technology. Opt for the Sport pack- 
age, with 20-inch wheels and Electronic Damping Control, as well as the engine 
upgrade (a 400 hp V8). On the corkscrew-like Angeles Crest Hi 
nia, this car dazzled sport bikers with its quickness, agility and bizarre styling. 


hway in Califor- 


It's the best all-around BMW people package, and it hauls. 


$24,800 


6.3 seconds 17 city, 25 highway 


a lot of car for very little money. 


СА 


AN INTERNATIONAL cult car built to win the Japan 
Touring Car Championship and originally not imported 
to the U.S., Nissan's Skyline GT-R bundled the finest 
high technology into a brutally effective street-legal 
racer. Scandal erupted when Nissan engineers claimed 
their GT-R had lapped Germany's Nürburgring 
Nordschleife—one of the world's most challenging 
circuits—faster than a Porsche 911 Turbo (which costs 
about $50,000 more). True? Not true? This is a fact: 
The folks at Porsche were not pleased. Now this razoi 
edged four-seat coupe is available for the first tim 
the U.S. We loved its intense power delivery, amazing 
grip in wet or dry conditions, blindingly quick brakes 
and nasty attitude. It's not a light car, weighing in at 
3,836 pounds, yet the acceleration (430 foot-pounds 
of torque) feels furious. The car combines an aggres- 
sively programmed electronic all-wheel-drive system 
and a six-speed paddle-shifted transaxle with three 
distinct shift settings—Normal, Snow and R-mode 
(for racing). You also get three suspension modes: 
Normal, Comfort and R-mode. Massive 15-inch ven- 
tilated cross-drilled Brembo disc brakes ensure the 
GT-R's stopping matches its hyperfast going. The best 
news of all: The GT-R is priced under $77,000 and 
only about $82,000 fully equipped. Pound for pound 
there's no better performance bargain. That's why the 
Nissan GT-R is PLAYBOY's 2009 Car of the Year. 


CAR OF THE YEAR: Mpg: 
Engine: Horsepower: : қ 
ri 1 Zeroto60: | РИ T: 


Powering 


car ru 
moving and st 
tric motor cap! 


nd is easy to incorporate into current c 
and truck models 
Down: At highway 
are less apparent b 
ing more on the gas engine. 


Power players: 


Hybrid Gas-Electric 


How it works: Hybrids have both a gas 
tery-powered electric 


gine and a battery-powered electric 
the Future engine, the latter providing additional 


thrust (exactly how and when depends 


cause y 


yota's Prius ha: 
more than a million uni 
Hybrid is our 2009 Gas Sipper of th: 


Star rating: Five out of five. 


— a 


The YEAR 


The GT-R's interior 
styling is all about per- 
formance. Left: Notice 
the red push-button 
ignition. Above: The 
tachometer is front 
and center. 


Clean Diesel 


How it works: The days of dirty, stinking 
diesels are over, thanks to ultra-low-sulfur 
fuel and engines that trap pollutants and 
neutralize 'em. Clean diesel already powers 
many of Europe's cars. 

Ups: Diesel scores about 30 percent 
better in fuel economy than gasolin 
and pumps out 20 percent less carbon- 
dioxide emissions. 

Downs: Higher costs. The engines are 
more expensive to mak diesel has a 
premium over gas—currently, on амега 
80 cents a gallon over regular. 


Power players: The Germans. The new 
Volkswagen Jetta TDI is a sweet little ride 
d gets 41 mpg highway. BMW and M 
re both now offering clean 

St; 


Star rating: Four. 


Hydrogen Fuel Cells 


How they work: Fuel cells are like miniature 
power stations that convert the chemical 
energy of hydrogen into electricity, which 
then powers an electric motor. Hydrogen is a 
gas, and it's stored under either 5,000 psi or 
10,000 psi in a reinforced tank 


Up: The only emissions? Water and heat. 


Downs: The $500,000 or more it currently 
costs to build a hydrogen car. On top of 
that, an entire hydrogen-refilling infrastruc- 
ture needs to be built so you can refuel on 
the road. 


Power player: GM has 100 hydrogen Chevy 
Equinoxes running around southern Cali- 
fornia, Washington, D.C. and New York City 
with no-cost leases right now. The car drives 
just like the gas-burning Equinox (boring but 
fine), though it produces zero emissions. 


Star ratin: 


Electric 


How it works: Power stored in batter- 
ies fuels an electric motor. And yes, you 
plug your car into a regular 110/120- or 
220/240-volt outlet. 


Ups: Clean and silent 


Downs: Range is usually limited to less 
than 150 miles, and recharges can take 
up to eight hours. Oh, and electricity in 
the U.S. still comes mostly from burning 
coal, so while your car may run clean, 
you're still pumping carbon dioxide into 
the atmosphere. 

Power players: Tesla Motors, with its 
$109,000 supercar that roi о 60 mph 
in less than four seconds, has been get- 
ting oodles of press. But the real potential 
player is the Chevy Volt—"fully charge: 
as GM puts it, for 2010. 


Star rating: Three. 


Ethanol 


How it works: Ethanol is made from corn 
and other grains, Today E85, which is 15 per- 
cent gas and 85 percent ethanol, is sold at 
1900 gasoline stations across the States. 


Ups: E85 is cleaner to burn than gas, and 
ethanol is a renewable resource that could 
cut our dependence on oil-producing 
countries that hate us. 

Downs: A roughly 10 percent to 15 percent 
drop in fuel economy. More important, if all 
our fuel needs end up on the shoulders of 
farmers, we will have, as one biofuel critic 
put it, a "humanitarian disaster." 

Power players: Many gas-burning cars 
these days can run on E85 without any 
modifications; see e85fuel.com to learn 
if your car is among them and where the 
fueling stations are 


Star rating: One. 


20 


BY STEPHEN REBELLO 
PHOTOGRAPHY BY 
BRIAN BOWEN SMITH 


JOSH 


LOST'S NUMBER ONE BADASS CHANNELS HIS INNER SAWYER, EXPLAINS WHY EVERYONE ON 
THE SHOW GETS SPEEDING TICKETS, RELIVES HIS DAYS AS A SKINNY MALE MODEL AND TELLS 
WHAT MAY HAPPEN NEXT ON TV'S FAVORITE ISLAND 


ат 

PLAYBOY: You're heading into your fifth 
season on the hit TV show Lost, playing 
hot-tempered con man James "Sawyer" 
Ford, who hoards stolen guns and medi- 
cines and harbors a lot of secrets. When are 
you most Sawyer-like in real life? 
HOLLOWAY: If someone cuts me off in 
traffic, Sawyer pops right out. When 
| was 17 | fell asleep at the wheel one 
morning. The car was destroyed going 
end over end, and all | got was a cut on 
the back of my neck from hitting the roof 
multiple times. Since then I've slowed 
down a lot, so people cut me off because 
I'm kind of a cruiser. But everybody has a 
Sawyer inside him 


Q2 

PLAYBOY: Vou film Last on the island of 
Oahu in Hawaii, where four cast members 
have been arrested for car-related incidents 
and five others have been cited. When the 
police nabbed you for speeding last year. 
was your inner Sawyer at the wheel? 

HOLLOWAY: it's an island, very easily 
patrolled, and we are the only big celebri- 
ties who stay there all the time. | was going 


around 50 in a 35 zone, and that's embar- 
rassing. | should have been going faster, 


оз 

PLAYBOY: Because you play such а badass 
on the show, how do actual badasses 
respond to you? 

HOLLOWAY: | get a lot of letters from 
prisons and the military. | had to film 
in a prison one day, and all the inmates 
were going, "Sawyer! Sawyer!" | asked the 
guards what | should do, and they said, 
“Be totally normal. Don't be scared, or 
they'll laugh.” That was an eye-opener. | 
don't ever want to go to prison. 


Q4 
PLAYBOY: Women dig bad boys. What kind 
of response do you get from female fans? 
HOLLOWAY: That's another thing that 
shocks me. I've been with the same woman 
for 10 years. We're married, and we've been 
very public about our relationship. Young, 
attractive girls won't give you the time of 
day, but you have to watch the older tourist 
ladies loose in Hawaii who have had a few 
cocktails and come over and are suddenly 


like, "Aww, give me a hug." Even if you give 
a respectful hug, you can get in trouble. 


as 

PLAYBOY: Did fame come into play when 
you and your wife were victims of a home- 
invasion robbery three years ago in Oahu? 
HOLLOWAY: It still gets me. The guy was 
a crackhead who had hit 22 people in two 
and a half weeks. He took an 80-year-old 
couple and duct-taped them up, He also 
attempted to murder another guy, | had a 
nightmare about it last night. 


Q6 

PLAYBOY: How did that incident change 
your life? 

HOLLOWAY: Having a gun held to our 
heads when we're naked in our bedroom 
at four in the morning is never going to 
happen to my wife and me again. | took 
the FBI training course. | have home 
protection. | accept that we live in a gun 
society, especially in America. Of course 
there's also the statistic that owning a 
gun increases your chances of being shot 
by 300 percent 


83 


PLAYBOY 


84 


97 

PLAYBOY: What will happen on Lost this 
season, especially considering the rumors 
that a major character or two—maybe 
even yours—won't make it to season six? 
HOLLOWAY: I don't know shit. In last sea- 
son's finale some characters are trying to 
get back to the island. I have a feeling— 
this is just my projection—we're going to 
get deeper into the lore of the island and 
where the people on the island will end 
up. I love that Sawyer is still on the island 
and not back in society, where he's such a 
bastard. He has evolved a bit, but I don't 
know how he fits into society anymore. 


as 

PLAYBOY; What would you miss least 
about the show if your character were 
killed off? 

HOLLOWAY: I wouldn't miss wondering if 
I'll have to take my shirt off each weck. 
Normally, the guy who takes off his shirt 
is 25, but I'm 39. The producers have 
already told me this season, "You can't 
find your shirt in the first episode—at 
least." I'm trying to become a better actor. 
If I can get really good, I won't have to 
be that shirtless guy all the time. 


ag 

PLAYBOY: You and Evangeline Lilly throw 
off serious heat together on the show. 
What do you find sexiest about her? 

HOLLOWAY: Evie's most attractive quality is 
her willingness to just throw herself into 
shit. She's a pretty girl who's unafraid to 
take a big handful of dirt, shove it in her 
hair and wipe it across her face. She’s 
always saying, “We're not dirty enough.” 


ото 

PLAYBOY: What does winning so much 
fame for your looks and physique do 
to your head? 

HOLLOWAY: Honestly? It makes me inse- 
cure. I get nervous. When people look 
at me, I'm like, Have I got a booger? 
We've been living in Hawaii, which is a 
blessing because the local people are so 
chill. When they see you, they just give 
you a nod. I'm superhappy to work, 
but the fame thing is not cool. 


an 

pıAYROY: How does your wife deal with all 
the rumors about you in the press? 
HOLLOWAY: My wife is really good with 
it all because she knows me and knows 
Ihave a part to play. Sometimes quotes 
are taken out of context, like when I was 
asked about high school crushes and I 
said Olivia Newton-John. Suddenly it was 
made to look as if 1 had a crush on her 
now. Pm still madly in love with my wife. 
She knows how to handle that stuff. 


@12 
PLAYBOY: You grew up in Georgia and 
have called yourselfa typical Blue Ridge 


Mountain boy. What does that mean? 
HOLLOWAY: We’re pretty hardworking, 
tough, straight-shootin’ country peo- 
ple. We were not quite hillbilly but hill- 
billy adjacent. I grew up on 33 acres 
with a dirt road. My parents were col- 
lege educated. My father majored in 
chemistry and worked as a surveyor 
for the state. My mother was a teacher. 
The rural people around us were 
always like, “Y'all are city boys,” and 
I was like, "Have you seen my trailer? 
It's next to yours.” 


Q13 

PLAYBOY: What kinds of jobs did you 
have before you started acting? 

HOLLOWAY: My first job, at the age of 
11, was picking up dead chickens in a 
chicken house, After that I worked in 
a restaurant. At the age of 13 I went 
into construction, which is what most. 
rural people do—either that or become 
a mechanic or chicken farmer. When I 
was 17 I got a haircut in Atlanta, and 
the lady said, "Do you want to do a 
hair show? I'll give you а free haircut." 
I said no, but when she said, "It's you 
and 12 girls," I said, "I'm in." The guy 
who organized the show worked at a 
modeling agency, and I started doing 
ads for Macy's. Then I got an offer to 
model in New York, so at 18 I took a 
Greyhound bus and off I went. 


914 

PLAYBOY: Did you go to New York hav- 
ing had much sexual experience? 
HOLLOWAY: My first time was when I 
was, I think, 14. My older friends on 
the construction crew were like, "You 
been laid, boy?" I was trying to avoid 
the question, so they said, "We're going 
to take care of that." Sure enough, they 
did, with a girl they knew. She was 16, 
and it was wonderful, educational and 
kind of innocent. 


915 

PLAYBOY: How were things as ап 18-year- 
old model on the loose in New York? 
HOLLOWAY: I wasn’t getting much mod- 
eling work because back in the 1980s 
they were using men who were beef- 
cakes, not boys, and I was kind of 
skinny and young. The agency shipped 
me to Europe, saying, “Go put on some 
miles—party or something,” and for 
three years I lived in Milan, Paris and 
Bologna. All sorts of drugs were going 
around, but the men never got into the 
chemical thing. They'd go to the park 
and maybe smoke some doobs. We had 
some fun—crazy, wild parties—but 
that's as far as the wildness went. 


916 
PLAYBOY: You didn't have many acting 
credits when you were cast on Lost. 
HOLLOWAY: There aren't many to know 


about. I took acting classes and eventu- 
ally got an agent; then it was nine frig- 
gin' years of this town kicking my ass. 
At the time, I told my girlfriend, now 
my wife, "I'm going to quit and do real 
estate. You cool with that?" She was. I 
got my real estate license in the mail 
four days before I booked Lost. Try nine 
years of getting your ass kicked in L.A. 
and you'll have a lot of anger saved up 
to play Sawyer. 


Q17 

PLAYBOY: Have you had to curb any fun, 
potentially self-destructive pursuits 
because of your importance to Lost? 
HOLLOWAY: I had to give up my dirt 
bike, which hurt because that's the most 
fun I've ever had on a toy. I go fishing 
probably 30 miles out on my boat, and 
I've gotten into some hairy situations 
Lost would not approve of. I surfed 
until someone on the Lost crew got 
injured surfing and needed 40 stitches. 
An injury means death on the show, so 
I dropped that right away. 


018 

PLAYBOY: Your arms аге tattooed these 
days, and your hair's all funky. What's 
that about? 

HOLLOWAY: The tattoos are just transfers. 
I play a tattoo artist in the movie Stay 
Cool with Winona Ryder, Sean Astin and 
Hilary Duff. It’s about a writer who goes 
home to deliver the commencement 
address at his high school. I play a guy 
who is no stranger to weed. It has been 
liberating as hell because it's a comedic 
role, and I hope it opens up the percep- 
tion that I'm not just Sawyer. 


019 

PLAYBOY: Does coming home with tats 
spice things up with your wife? 
HOLLOWAY: It seems as if all women want 
a bad boy until they hook up with one, 
and then they want to make him a good 
boy. I got these tattoos for the movie, 
went home and said, "Hey, baby." My 
wife said, "Ooh, that's hot," but then she 
went, "You're not that cool." I mean, 
damn it, I had her for a minute. 


Q20 

PLAYBOY: People often say no one truly 
knows himself until he hits it big. With 
everything that has happened to you, 
have you ever been caught being a jerk? 
HOLLOWAY: If you're a celebrity, people 
allow you too much leeway. I don't want 
to be that person. I want to be respect- 
ful and considerate of other people. My 
wife and I keep each other real, The 
people we hang out with aren't the type 
who go around treating waiters badly. 


Read the 21st question at playboy.com/21q. 


Wy, 


Жата 


GOOD 
BYE 


¡RLS 


The Girls Next Door are moving down the street 


'e met them nearly four years ago: three young, 

unsophisticated, wide-eyed blondes who gave TV 

viewers a look at the strange and wonderful life 

behind the gates of the Playboy Mansion. They 

came from up and down the West Coast, from San Diego to 
Alaska, to slip into this adult fantasyland as the girlfriends of 

86 PLAYBOY'S Editor-in-Chief, Hugh M. Hefner. But after E! debuted 


The Girls Next Door, in August 2005, Holly Madison, Bridget 
Marquardt and Kendra Wilkinson didn't stay wide-eyed unso- 
phisticates for long. Over the course of five seasons viewers 
got to know Holly's old-Hollywood glamour, Bridget's Hallow- 
een obsession and Kendra's crazy laugh, and before long E! 
had its biggest hit and the Playboy brand had attracted a 
huge new (and largely female) following. 


| 
| 


; ) Ж 4 
ACA АЛЕ 


X RA AA 
V NE 


cc mam. 


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\ 


As for those three young blondes: In 
Hef's words, “You can't begin to over- 
estimate the extent to which their lives 
have been changed. They are much 
more mature, sophisticated people now. 
They're celebrities, but they're also a 
good deal more than that.” 

In a way, it all made perfect sense: 
PLAYBOY, after all, had been showcasing 
“girls next door” since the summer of 
1955, when Janet Pilgrim went from a 
desk in the subscription department to 
a spot as Miss July. But Holly, Bridget 
and Kendra brought a new twist to a 
longtime tradition, turning pLayeoy’s girls 
next door into The Girls Next Door. "It 
personalized what goes on here at the 
Mansion," says Hef, *and brought us a 
whole new group of fans." 

And now, as you may have heard, 
there are big changes. As the fifth sea- 
son of The Girls Next Door comes to an 
end, the story lines for season six have 


taken an unexpected turn: The original 
girls are leaving the Mansion to follow 
different paths, while a whole new cast 
of contenders (and maybe a few pre- 
tenders) is moving in. 

All three girls are undergoing major 
life changes, but for Holly, perhaps, the 
change is most dramatic. Holly has spent 
the past seven years at Hef's side, first as 
one of seven girlfriends, then as number 
one among three and lately as the one 
who shared his room and his life. “І can 
say without reservation that Holly really 
is and has been the love of my life," Hef 
says. "Over the past couple of years, even 
though | had three girlfriends, it increas- 
ingly focused into a one-on-one relation- 
ship with Holly. | expected to spend the 
rest of my life with her." 

But Holly wanted something more. She 
wanted marriage and children. Hef is still 
legally married to his second wife, Kim- 
berly Conrad Hefner, Miss January 1988. 


90 


That marriage ended badly, and he wasn't eager to try 
wedlock again. So Holly has had a change of heart. Her 
decision to end the long, intensely romantic relationship 
was unexpected, Hef says. But she says he should have 
seen it coming. 

Rumors of a romance with Las Vegas magician Criss 
Angel have added fuel to the fire. “Не! and I will always 
be close,” Holly says, “but | just want different things. 
| don't want to be on somebody's arm all the time. | 
want new experiences. | want to see everything life has 
to offer." 

When Holly told Hef she wanted to end the relation- 
ship, he says, “I was literally blindsided by it, and for a 
couple of weeks | was roadkill." His adjustment to the new 
single life was made easier with the arrival of the Shan- 
non twins, Karissa and Kristina, two upcoming Playmates 
from Florida, who said they were interested in becoming 
his girlfriends. Those two have now moved into the Man- 
sion, where, Hef says, "an extraordinary number of young 
ladies" are also vying for his attention. "The only advice 
1 ever gave Hef," Holly says, "is to look for nice girls who 
will treat him with respect." 

Holly now has her own place near Playboy Studio West, 
where she works in the magazine's photo department. 
She swears she doesn't miss the staff that was ready to 
attend to her every need inside the Mansion. "When | was 
in college | lived with roommates in ghetto-esque apart- 
ments, so I'm used to running out to the grocery store or 
McDonald's in the middle of the night," she says. "Ever 
since | moved out of the Mansion I’ve felt more in touch 
with the girl | used to be." 

The Holly-Hef breakup came as a particular shock to 
Kendra, who had already been thinking about the day 


a jr 


she would be on her own. “The timing was 
a huge surprise to me,” Kendra says. “1 
was like, What? Everybody thought | would 
be the first one out of the Mansion!” 

Kendra had been planning her move 
even before she ran into Philadelphia 
Eagles wide receiver Hank Baskett at a 
Playboy golf tournament. A huge football 
fan, she had always sworn never to date 
the players, but something about Baskett 
made her reconsider, “| always thought 
football players were like hot boy toys, 
kinda," she says, laughing. "I like to go with 
the good guy, not the bad boys. But there 
was something about his energy and the 
way he carried himself. | knew I couldn't 
leave without giving him my number." 

They started dating, Baskett popped the 
question a few months later, and Kendra 
immediately knew whom she wanted to 
give her away at the wedding. Hef was 
"proud and pleased" to do so and offered 
to host the wedding and reception at the 
Playboy Mansion (where Holly will be 
a bridesmaid). “I think Hef has always 
looked at me like a lost little soul,” Kendra 
says, “and now | think he’s really proud 
of me. If it weren't for Hef, | would never 
have met Hank. Hef carried the torch a 
long distance and then handed it to Hank, 
and Hank lit it.” The wedding will figure 
into the next season of GND and in a spin- 
off series focusing on Kendra's life outside 
the Mansion. 

Bridget, meanwhile, has her own televi- 
sion series. Bridget's Sexiest Beaches, which 
debuts on the Travel Channel in March, has 
sent her around the world in recent months 
on trips to Australia, Jamaica, Fiji, Thailand, 
Ibiza and (text concluded оп page 106) 


See more of Holly, Bridget and Kendra 
at club.playboy.com. 


PLAYBOY 


94 


(continued from page 72) 

It was almost too easy. I had the kids 
stop shoppers, flash a brochure and ask 
them to sign up for Greenpeace. We didn't 
actually want the fish to say yes, but if they 
did, the kids had them fill out a long sign- 
up form and still the mark usually dug 
out a 10 for the stop-the-whaling fund. 
But most people are in too big a hurry, 
so they'd rather give a onetime donation. 
This was the cash side of the business— 
fives, 10s, 20s, a few 50s. I printed up tax- 
deduction receipts off the IRS website, 
and this helped convince people we were 
legitimate. On the first day alone, Kevin 
got almost 400, and Julie took in six and 
a quarter, I chopped my half, five bills for 
running the thing, and then sold Kevin 
a half ounce of weed from the trunk of 
my car for the rest of his take, at a decent 
profit. I tried to sell Julie some bud, too, 
but she looked away. 7 need money a lot тоте 
than I need pot, Danny. 

Of course, some shoppers got suspi- 
cious and didn't want to give us cash, 
or claimed they had none. This was 
good. I told the kids: Make them give you 
the thing you're taking. So they'd say that 
Greenpeace discouraged credit cards and 
checks, then wrinkle their brows and say, 
"But I guess...if you have ID," as if the 
person had insisted, Nothing kills suspi- 
cion like suspicion. 

"This was the real haul: checks, which 
we used to make templates for phony 
checking accounts, and especially credit 
cards. I gave the kids 10 bucks for every 
card number they got, but I got 40 apiece 
from a guy in Mexico. In two weeks I had 
given him 39. Give me your number and 
I can have four grand run on that card in 
Mexico before you put away your wallet. 

All of this was a nice and profitable 
diversion from my real business, the 
thing I've done since I quit college my 
freshman year—running bud down from 
B.C. My territory was Washington and 
Oregon, from the Canadian border all 
the way down 1-5, eight regular stops on 
the Green Corridor: Bellingham, Seat- 
tle, Tacoma, Olympia, Portland, Salem, 
Eugene and Ashland. Two trips a weck, 
up and back, meant two nights a weck 
in the midpoint, Portland. People have 
in their minds a picture of a bud smug- 
gler—white-boy dreads, Marley T-shirt — 
but I'd be a moron to dress like that for 
15 hundred miles a week with six kilos in 
the trunk. I wore a plain suit and kept my 
hair short, hard-parted on the side, like a 
'50s superhero. But the key was my car: 
1 had to be the youngest man in America 
rocking a loaded gray '06 Buick Lucerne. 
Cop could pull me over blazing a spliff, 
coke spoon up my nose, syringe hanging 
from my tied-off arm, dead hooker in the 
passenger seat, and still just tell me to 
case off the gas and have a nice day. 

No game works forever, of course, and 
Iknew this Greenpeace scam could bust a 
hundred ways: Kids steal from me, some 


fish gets suspicious and calls his credit- 
card company, real Greenpeacies get 
wind. I put the half-life at three months. 
This was early November, so I figured to 
run the game through Christmas—when 
the banks and credit-card companies are 
too busy to notice the extra draws—make 
a little side money and move on. In the 
meantime I was careful. On my return 
run through Portland I always collected 
the Greenpeace material so the kids 
couldn't freelance, 1 moved Julie and 
Kevin around a lot and worked hard to 
stay away from the real fund-raisers. 

And once each, 1 had Julie and Kevin 
strip in front of me—this was one of my old 
weed-dealing precautions—to make sure 
they weren't holding any money back. This 
is drastic stuff, but done right it only has to 
happen once. It makes a real impact, kid 
standing in front of you freezing his ass off. 
while you go through his clothes. I learned 
it from the guy who recruited me. You 
make the mule stand there while you ignore 
him to look through his clothes. It's not the 
search; it's standing there naked that gets 
to him, With a dealer, the last part pb ie 
humiliation is having him spread 
cheeks—not because I suspect anyt er 
up there, but just so the kid knows how 
far I'll go. Like a jail search. The guy 
who did me took it a step further, split 
my ass with a cold handgun. Of course 
Kevin and Julie weren't muling drugs, 
so I didn't need to check their asses, 
and I didn't carry a gun, anyway, but 
I wanted to send the same message. 
You're nothing to me. Meat. 

Now ГЇЇ be the first to admit 
kind of looking forward to t 
little Julie. It wasn't like she had a strip- 
per's body; she was tiny, almost sickly. I 
wasn't into the waif thing, but there was 
something about the way she moved, 
like poured syrup. I couldn't help being 
curious about what lay underneath all 
those clothes. 

Like my car, I chose my hotel rooms 
carefully. No sketchy motels on the out- 
skirts of town for me. In Portland, I always 
took a room at the Heathman downtown. 
I liked the porters in their beefeater cos- 
tumes, and 1 liked sitting on the mezza- 
nine by the fire, drinking Chivas and 
making eyes with the married busi- 
nesswomen. That's what did it for me, 
women in suits, not little homeless girls. 
On my first night at the Heathman, I 
hit a blonde, married prescription-drug 
rep—impeccable makeup, Pilates-hard 
ass. I'm in the same business, 1 told her. 
I wouldn't be surprised if they had to 
re-drywall my room after we finished 
banging around in it. 

I was a month into my Portland gig 
when I called Julie up to my room at the 
Heathman. I sat spread-legged on the 
big fluffy bed and told her to take every- 
thing off. I'd strip-searched Kevin a week 
earlier and he'd thrown a fit—Danny, how 
could you think ГА steal from you?—but Julie 
didn't say a word. Her eyes just got big. 
and she nodded slightly, turned away 


from me, looked out the window and 
started unbuttoning. Her hands were 
shaking. I couldn't believe how many lay- 
ers she wore—wool scarves and flannel 
and Army surplus and little cotton pant- 
ies. And there she was. Just her...pale 
little body, skinny freckled arms. She was 
shivering. When she turned away shyly, 
1 could see every disk in her spine. Her 
shoulder blades were like two drawn-in 
wings. In fact, it was her back that got to 
me, that little back tapering down to this 
tiny waist, which I could've put my two 
hands completely around if I'd wanted, 
could have lifted her up and.... 

She started crying in these jerking little 
hiccups, Please, don't make me—— She didn't 
finish. Tears curled over her cheeks. 

God, she was small. Not a tattoo or a 
ring anywhere. 1 said, / just need to make 
sure you're not stealing from me. Гуе never 
felt so horny and so shitty at the same 
time. I turned away as I went through 
her clothes. They were warm. 

Hell, I knew she wasn't stealing from 
me; she was outdrawing Kevin two-to- 
one. And it's no wonder she thought I was 
going to fuck her. These were the rules I 
was operating under: When you're steal- 
ing from people, you assume people are 
stealing from you. And sex? Just another 
thing to steal. 

I'm sorry, Julie, I wanted to say, but all 
I managed was: It's okay. Get dressed now. 

I hadn't touched her, and still the strip 
search changed things between Julie and 
me. She stopped meeting my eyes. Even 
her take started to go down. I'd watch 
her from coffee shops and it was like she 
was shrinking. Where before she stepped 
up to fish confidently, now she huddled 
against the wall, waiting for them to make 
eye contact with her. Soon Kevin was out- 
drawing her. This happens to dealers, 
too; they lose nerve and start shrinking, 
and one day they're done. 

Played out. Whole thing was played out. 

It rains in Portland, probably as much 
as in Seattle, although it doesn't have the 
shitty reputation for it. The downtown is 
half again too funky and half again too 
clean: Black-clad white kids skate in spot- 
less parks and the packed light-rail trains 
hum quietly on busy tree-lined streets 
past old warehouses and tenements gen- 
trified into lofts and nightclubs and art 
galleries. Fuckin’ city creeps up on you, 
and you start to believe you could fit in 
there. You could live there. 

Then, one day in mid-December, 
toward the end of the deal, I bought 
Julie and Kevin each a slice of pizza at the 
place across from Powell's. I explained 
that we were going to have to quit after 
Christmas but that I wanted to use them 
for some other things. I wasn't really 
going to use Kevin again, but you want a 
guy like that to think that you might have 
more work for him so that he stays loyal. 
As for Julie, I had been forming this idea 
in my head. It was probably stupid, but 
I spent so many nights in Portland, and 
since it was the halfway point of my bud 


“You remembered!” 


PLAYBOY 


96 


route, rather than pay for a hotel every 
time, maybe I could get a little apartment, 
have Julie take care of it for me. Purely 
business. So. .if you're up for doing something 
else, 1 said Julie's way. 

Гт ир for anything, Kevin said quickly. 

Julie said nothing. 

How about you? 1 asked her. 

You don't want her, Kevin said, and he 
snickered. 

It seemed Kevin and Julie had some sort 
of secret. She shoved him like she was try- 
ing to shush a seven-ycar-old. 

What's goin' on? Y asked. 

Julie gave her money to Greenpeace, Kevin 
said, and then he broke into laughter. 

She just stared at the ground as Kevin 
told me the story. There was this shaggy 
hippie market every Saturday in Old Town, 
and Julie had apparently dragged Kevin 
down there over the weekend to show him 
something. It turned out there was a real 
Greenpeace booth under the Burnside 
Bridge, and Julie had stood there rcading 
the material and looking at these dread- 
locked white kids behind the booth—so 
earnest, such believers—and then she 
just...freaked, Lost it. She took the money 
she'd saved from our gig, almost 12 hun- 
dred bucks, and donated it. 

To save the fucking whales. 

Christ, Julie, 1 said. 

But that's not all, Kevin said. Then she tried 
to get me to donate my money, too. This was the 
part that really broke him up. 

As Kevin told the story Julie's eyes got 


bleary again. It made me feel better, she said 
quietly. Then to Kevin: / thought you might 
want to feel better, too. 

1 feel fine, Kevin said, and he bit into 
his pizza. 

Julie, Y asked gently. Do you think what 
we've been doing is wrong? 

She gave a tiny nod. 

Well, Y said, it IS wrong, Julie. Then I 
leaned forward. I'm the West Coast distributor 
of wrong. I could tell you that what we're doing 
is no different than what other businesses do, that 
Microsoft or Nordstrom, they're just another kind 
of scam, some shit like that. I could tell you a 
million lies, Julie, but I'm not gonna do that. Рт 
just gonna ask you one simple question: 

Do you think for one second those kids at that 
market can save a fucking whale? 

She swallowed and looked down. 1 
never saw her anymore without thinking 
of that tapered little back, those freckles, 
chin pointed down, sniffling away the 
tears, They can try. 

Oh, come on. You know better than that. 
You know this is a hard goddamn world, You 
know what the world does to helpless things, 
don't you, Julie? 

Yes, she whispered to her lap. 

That's right, Y said. You know. Those whales 
are fucked. So. I say, Fuck the businessmen 
amd fuck Nordstrom and fuck your creepy step- 
dad and fuck your blind mother! And fuck my 
old man, too, while we're at it, son of a bitch 
bounced me around for breakfast every other 
fuckin" day. Well, fuck them all. And if you 
wanna go home to your mom and her husband, 


"Getting a mention in a poem by Edgar Allan Poe doesn't turn 
you into a star overnight, you know." 


if you wanna go save the fucking whales, then 
fuck you, too, Julie. Fuck you! 

Now I've given the Fuck You speech—or 
some variation—a dozen times or more. 
But I’ve never had happen what happened 
with little Julie. She jerked a little when I 
mentioned her stepdad and then, after 
staring at the table a few more seconds, she 
stood up. Okay, Danny, she said. Thanks. 

‘And just like that, she walked away. 

Tknow a girl we can get, Kevin said. 

I just sat there watching her walk off, 
thinking about the sliver of girl who lived 
under those clothes—that back, that waist— 
and wishing I'd said something else. So this 
was it. We were done. I told Kevin I'd see 
him in two days, when I came back through 
town, but I didn't figure to see either of 
them ever again, 

That week I picked up my regular load 
in Bellingham and started south, I made 
my drop in Seattle and collected the 
money, and made my drop in Olympia and 
collected the money. I drove south on 1-5, 
Portland creeping up on me. I hadn't been 
able to stop thinking about little Julie. And 
I didn’t really plan to do it, but I got off the 
freeway and drove to the bus station, where 
I'd met her five weeks earlier. 

She wasn't there, but Kevin was. I tried 
to casually ask about Julie. 

She got the shit kicked out of her, he said. 

What? Who did it? 

He shrugged. He said Julie sometimes 
hung out in this boho coffee shop in Old 
Town, so I gave Kevin a free eighth for his 
trouble, and drove into Old Town, and sure 
enough, that’s where I found her, in this 
foul, patchouli-smelling shit hole, reading 
a book of poems, all wrapped up in those 
layers of hippie clothes. When I got closer 1 
could see a yellowing bruise below her eye. 
And her bottom lip was swollen, 

She flinched when she saw me. 

Who the fuck did this? 1 asked. 

She looked confused. No one. 

And that's when I knew. You went home, 
didn't you? After I told you to. Did your step- 
dad do this, Julie? 

Those tears slipped again. She stared 
down at her lap and sobbed. 

I sat in the booth next to her and put 
my arms around her, carefully. 1 touched 
her gingerly, like she was made of glass. 
It's okay, Y said. 

I took her to the Heathman. When the 
valet tipped his silly British hat to her, she 
smiled. I took her upstairs so she could 
shower and clean up. I wanted to be in 
that room, but I also didn't want to be in 
that room. So I went to Nordstrom and 
bought her some clothes. When I got back 
she was staring out the window again, this 
time wearing the white terry-cloth hotel 
robe, cinched around that tiny waist. I left 
the clothes on the bed and told her I'd be 
downstairs in the mezzanine. 

The clothes were too big—a pair of black 
pants, a sweater and a heavy coat—I should 
have gone to the kids' section. But she didn't 
seem to mind. We ate on the mezzanine, in 
front of the fire. She glanced up at me a few 
times over the tall menu. Smiled. She was 
a vegetarian. Ordered sun-dried-tomato pasto 
ravioli. Y wanted to kick the waiter's ass when 
he corrected her: You mean pesto? 


She ate like it was her first real meal, or her 
last, closing her eyes and moaning after every 
bite. I was careful not to talk about anything. 
When we were all done, I had the valet get 
the car. We climbed in. It was 8:30. 

I turned to face her. Told her what I 
wanted to do. 

No, she said. Please don't. It will only 
make it worse. 

Listen, Y said. I promise you...whatever hap- 
pens, this will not make it worse. 1 wanted to 
grab her hand, but I didn't, This is a hard 
world, Julie. That's all. 

We started driving. They lived in Beaver- 

ton. We turned in front of this little strip 
mall; she led and pointed to the Coffee 
People store where she used to work. She 
ed out the window and seemed to shrink 
le her new coat as we got closer. 
Turn here. Turn there. 
And finally, that one, 
she said in a whis- 
r. Т parked in front 
two-story white 
se leaning out on 
four big porch pillars. 
Everything about 
the house pissed me 
off—the Colonial 
bullshit black shut- 
ters, the Christmas 
lights. But what really 
got me was the black 
BMW in the drive- 
way. Here I was, lay- 
ing low in grandpa's 
fucking Buick, and 
this molester rolls a 
BMW? 

Please, she said. 
I changed ту mind. 
Don't. Let's just go. 

Julie, remember how I 
told you my old man used 
to knock me around? 

She said she 
remembered. 

We had this old cof- 
feepot, one of those big 
aluminum percolating 
things...made 20 cups 
or something...he used 
to come in from the 
road, and I'd be eating 
ту cereal and one day, 
he just clocked me, no 
good reason, and for 
some reason I lost it. I grabbed that fuckin" 
percolator by its black handle and swung as 
hard as I could. Right at his head. It didn't 
do much. Hell, I burned myself worse with the 
coffee that flew out. And he gave me a good 
pounding right after, but you know what? It 
was worth it. Because every time I saw the dent 
in that coffeepot, I knew this: that I was gonna 
survive that fucker. 

I grabbed her little shoulders. Her bottom. 
lip was quivering. Look, Julie, Гт just gonna 
talk to him. Гт not going to hurt him. Okay? 
She nodded a little, then grabbed me 
and hugged me. Even under the sweater 
and the new coat I could feel that tiny back, 
and as wrong as it was, I was turned on, and 
I couldn't wait to do this and get back to 
the Heathman. She was shaking. I’m cold, 
she whispered, will you leave the heat on? Y 


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ranked the heat, pushed her gently back 
into her seat and climbed out. 

I walked up to the house and rang the 
bell. There was a little reindeer next to the 
door. Honestly, I didn't know exactly how 
far I was planning to go. I really did just 
want to scare the guy, but when he answered 
the door, something about him set me off. 

He was probably 50, with black ha 
parted on the side like mine. He was in 
good shape, but his face was flabby, like 
he'd recently lost a bunch of weight. 

Can I help you? he asked. 

Can I help you? After that, it was like my 
hands belonged to someone else. I pushed 
him backward into the house. Can you help 
me? Can you fuckin’ help me? 

He fell. Scrambled backward. Tried to 
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I kicked him in the side. It made a dull 
sound, like someone clapping with gloves 
on. Yeah, you can help me, you fuckin" child 
molester. And that's when I realized that I was 
going to kill this guy. Now I've done some 
shit, but I'd never killed a guy before. 

But I knew that I simply couldn't stop 
until he couldn't hurt Julie anymore. 
He crab crawled toward the steps. Deb! 
And this woman called from upstairs, 
Carl? 

Stay in your fucking room, Deb! I yelled up 
the stairs. And I thought about stopping 
someone's life, just...ending it, and I kicked 
him again, harder, in the ribs. This one took 
the wind out of him, and he collapsed against 
the stairs. I grabbed his hair and gave his face 
a short bounce on the stairs. God, I wanted 
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Julie in the car and I remembered my prom- 
ise to her, and more than anything I wanted 
her back in the Heathman, and in the apart- 
ment where she would be waiting for me, so 
I gathered myself and I bent down and took 
this old pervert by his hair again and I said 
into his ear: You ever touch her again and PU 
kill you so slowly that you won't even realize you're 
dead. Do you understand me, Stepdad? 

Yes, he said. Please... 

And even though I wanted to keep 
stomping him to dust, I stood up and just 
stared down at him. His shaking arms cov- 
ered his blood-gobbed face, 

Restraint: That's what keeps a guy like me 
in business. I started for the door. On the 
foyer walls were pictures of Deb and Carl 
and two little kids. Christ, I thought, 
holes don't even have a picture of her up. 

Maybe that's when 
I knew. Or maybe it 
as a second later, 
when I stepped out 
onto the front porch. 

The Lucerne was 
gone. I stood there 
a minute doing the 
math. I patted my 
suit coat. My wallet 
was gone. The hug. 
I'm cold. In a hatch in 
the trunk th was 
60 grand in cash from 
my Seattle, Olympia 
and Portland drops. 
I hadn't made the 
Salem, Eugene and 
Ashland drops, so 
that meant there 
was another or 
40 thousand in weed 
behind that hatch. 
very pop is bad 
luck. Who'd have 
thought, for instance, 
that as nice as that 
neighborhood was, 
a cop could afford 
to live nearby? But 
a property-crimes 
detective was kitt 
corner and Deb 
apparently called 
him from upstair 
So while 1 stood on 
the porch doing the 
math, this fat son ofa 
bitch came huffing across the street, yelling 
and drawing down on me. I had no choice 
but to drop and put my arms out. 

I was smiling as he put the handcuffs 
on me, and smiling still when they threw 
me in the overnight tank with meth- 
twitching chalkers and mumbling drunk- 
ies, and smiling still the next morning 
when they hauled me in front of the stern 
judge who arraigned me on first-degree 
assault charges. 
My public defender said that I really 
scared poor Carl, who, coincidentally, was 
the stepfather to those kids in the picture. 
I showed suitable regret, bonded out and 
eventually pleaded guilty to misdemeanor 
assault with a big fine and restitution but 
no jail time. I sent Carl a letter of apology, 
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truth—that Га had the wrong house. Of 
course, 1 had to replace the Lucerne and 
make good on the money and dope that 
Julie stole, but in a way 1 could see that 1 
had been lucky. Shit, what if I'd killed poor 
Carl? For nothing. 

I fucking hated Portland after that. I 
started staying in Eugene. I did stop in Port- 
land a few times to ask around about her, 
but I knew she was long gone. In fact, it was 
sort of like she'd never existed. I found that 
puff Kevin working at a Quiznos sandwich 
shop, but it was clear she'd played him, too. 
He didn't even know her last name. I asked 
about the day she got beat up and if she'd 
told him to tell me about it. 

No, he said. She said it was nothing and that 
I shouldn't worry about it. 

And that's what got me, in the end, 
How it was all so subtle. Perfectly played. 
I made my share of mistakes, sure—sell- 
ing weed to Kevin in front of her so that 
she figured out what was in my trunk; 
falling for that crying shit, telling her 
about my own father, leaving the car run- 
ning because she was cold. But it wasn't 
me. It was her. All her. 

Make them give you the thing you want to take. 

And shit, after (Һа! everything felt so....frag- 
ile. Something like that happens and it shakes 
your faith in people, in yourself. And once 
you realize how shaky and frail the world 
is, you start to imagine other mistakes. And 
when you can imagine cracks in the world? 
Well, then it's only a matter of time, 

1 had always figured the roll would come 
from below, but when I finally got snaked, 
it was by the guy on top of me, the guy I 
bought my dope from, the guy who had 
recruited me and taught me to search kids 
by sticking a gun up my ass. He'd gotten 
popped for something else and agreed to 
wear a wire for a month while they kept 
him under surveillance. They even put 
GPS on my car to make sure they got my 
contacts, Four months to the day after Julie 
scammed me, the DEA arrested me with 
four pounds of sweet green bud in the back 


of the new Lucerne. I pled to nine years. 

Six to go. 

I think about Julie a lot in here. And I 
think about the last night I spent in Port- 
land, four days before my arrest. I hadn't 
planned to stop there, but I was tired. And 
nostalgic, I guess. I had a few drinks and 
drove down into the Pearl District, looking at 
brownstone condos and townhouses, think- 
ing of the place I'd have rented for us. Then 
I got a room at the Heathman. I sat on the 
mezzanine and had sun-dried-tomato pesto 
ravioli. Next morning, I went down to Old 
Town for the Saturday Market. The place 
was just as I imagined it, fucking Portland, 
full of shithead artists and tie-dyed dead- 
heads, pottery morons selling henna tattoos 
and alpaca scarves and tall Goth chicks sha- 
kin' their hair, dudes on skateboards, and 
rasta-fucks playing bongos, ass-smelling 
ponytail-wearing hippies playing Chilean 
flutes—a real fucking circus. 

There was no Greenpeace booth. 

I was about to leave when I saw a skinny 
little redhead boho chick walking away 
from me, in a coat like the one I'd bought. 
Julie that day. I ran after her. Hey! 

1 didn't know what I was going to do. T 
didn't feel angry—not as angry as I thought 
I'd be. I really just wanted to talk to her. 
Hey! Y yelled again. 

But when the girl turned, it wasn't Julie, 
It looked nothing like her. It was just a red- 
head in a coat. Jes, she said. 

I'm sorry, 1 said. My mistake. 

It's okay, she said. 

Itis a hard goddamn world. 

The girl started to turn away. And I don't 
know why I did it, but I said, Wait, and I 
reached out and grabbed her wrist, and 
maybe she was too surprised to be scared 
at first, because for a few seconds, before 
she screamed and jerked away, we just 
stood there, the two of us, as people flowed 
around us, just me and some random red- 
headed girl, still as stones in a river. 


DRUG 


(continued from page 40) 
Because he was sick, I forced the judge 
to have him released." 

Was Bliri guilty? Is he really a drug 
smuggler? "Absolutely," says Correia, 
grinning. "He's a professional." Augusto 
Bliri himself is unavailable for comment— 
"away on business." 

Another case Correia handled was more 
serious and involved defending two Colom- 
bians after a shoot-out on September 26, 
2006. The Judiciary Police—the only armed 
force in this country that doesn't seem to be 
up to its neck in drug money—arrested two 
men: one by the name of Juan Pablo Cama- 
cho, the other calling himself Luis Fernando 
Ortega Mejia. The raid netted laptops, 
firearms, radios, 674 kilos of cocaine and 
$39 million in various currencies. It was the 
biggest bust the country had ever seen. 

But then a funny thing happened. The 
money and drugs were put into the trea- 
sury vaults for safekeeping. The next night, 
armed men wearing military uniforms 
seized both the cocaine and the cash, (The 
military claims the thieves were impostors, 
but few believe that.) 

As for the Colombians, with no evidence, 
there was no case, They walked, and Cor- 
reia gained his second great victory. He's 
now trying to get back their cash and lap- 
tops. The Colombians are said to have left 
the country, skipping bail, though one of 
them was interviewed in the Portuguese 
press shortly after his arrest. He claimed 
to be a simple businessman planning to 
move his wife and four children to Bissau 
from Colombia. The story hardly made any 
sense, And then the man was gone. 


Тһе hotel I am staying in—a single-story 
maze of red-tiled hallways and clean, 
cavernous rooms—briefly became inter- 
nationally famous last year when French 
intelligence agents and local cops arrested 
two Al Qaeda terrorists here. The Al Qaeda 
men had traveled through Senegal and 
Mauritania after murdering a family of 
French tourists. They figured the lawless- 
ness of Guinea-Bissau would shield them. 

The restaurant and its open-air patio are 
empty. Brazilian soap operas and clown 
shows play on the TV in the lobby. Occa- 
sionally, Portuguese and Spanish import- 
export men pass through. They all tell me 
they're here to buy cashews. 

It's time to explore the nightlife. I catch 
a cab, or rather I step out to the old Euro- 
pean sedan that always waits in front of 
the hotel, never seeming to have any busi- 
ness—its driver is forever either polishing 
the hood or reading a newspaper. I wade 
through the local Portuguese with my semi- 
functional Yankee Spanish. The driver will 
give me a tour of Bissau. 

First stop is the Avenida da Che Gue- 
vara. There are two cafe bars here where 
the few NGO types and forcign business- 
men park their SUVs and drink beer at 
sidewalk tables. Strolling up and down the 
avenue are the young women of the night: 
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temporary boyfriends to take them out, as 
well as a few drunken and addicted Nige- 
rian hookers who in their clipped English 
accost any white man. 

Then we head along a dark tree-lined 
avenue. The traffic is minimal, the moon- 
less night unbroken by strect lamps. Thick 
old trees, planted generations ago by Por- 
tuguese colonialists, stand over the road, 
their smooth gray trunks slowly muscling 
up through the flagstones and leaning out 
from the walls and courtyards. The head- 
lights of passing cars briefly reveal an occa- 
sional pedestrian but only a few. Farther 
out, toward the edge of town, the canopy 
of old trees gives way to open space. 

In the middle of one barren lot sits the 
Palace Hotel. This is where Bliri hangs out. 
It's a new and gaudy structure. Inside, 
bottles of whiskey cost $80. This is where 
the children of the country's elite—the 
generals and ambassadors—party on weck- 
ends. Set back from the road, the Palace 
is a tinted-glass box approached by a long 
rise of steps, like a Chinese-built Versailles, 
When it's hopping, the place is mobbed 
with suave young men and beautiful young 
women in tight miniskirts, stacked up on 
high heels, their hair perfectly coiffed. The 
tables are packed with cliques of friends try- 
ing to talk over the pounding reggae and 
Afropop, The desperate attempt to scream 
exclusivity only heightens the feeling of iso- 
lation that defines this country. 

Interestingly, few people here do 
cocaine, Use of the drug has not caught 
on among the better-off in Bissau, and 
the poor struggle just to buy rice. But one 
girl tells me she saw Bliri snort cocaine at 
the Palace—"right off the table!” Then she 
adds, “He always has a gun.” 


"I am ashamed to say this, but the highest 
levels of the military here are involved in 
drug trafficking," says Edmundo Mendes, 
the top antidrug cop in Guinea-Bissau. 
Mendes is second in command of the Judi- 
ciary Police. Its offices, arranged around a 
muddy parking lot, are dark because the 
electricity is off. They have only two jail 
cells. One is crowded with 19 men awaiting 
trial, none on drug charges. In the other is 
a woman who allegedly killed her child, 


As l interview Mendes two of his officers 
interrupt to complain there is no gas for one 
of the Judiciary Police's two cars. He rum- 
mages around for the keys to the other. 

Mendes unfolds a sad tale: The police 
have nine redundant divisions controlled 
by five different ministries. These little 
plots of armed power are run as the per- 
sonal fiefdoms of vying big men—soldiers, 
ex-guerrillas and party cadres who have 
known and often hated one another for 
40 years. They are of the generation that 
won independence from the Portuguese, 
and they treat Guinea-Bissau as their 
personal property, the spoils of their war. 
These dysfunctional fiefdoms have become 
tribal, each controlled by an ethnic group. 
Each piece of the state struggles against the 
others for access to resources. Most refuse 
to cooperate with European law enforce- 
ment in the fight against trafficking. 

The big man in charge of the Judiciary 
Police is actually a woman, Lucinda Aucarie. 
Above her is another woman, the justice 
minister, Carmelita Barbosa Rodrigues 
Pires. Pires is one of the more powerful 
women in the country's hierarchy, though 
she controls a force of only 63 undercover 
detectives. Those who know her say Pires 
has a social conscience and worries the 
drug economy in Guinca-Bissau may be its 
final undoing. 

For whatever reason, she seems to run 
a clean, relatively accountable operation, 
which makes her competitors hate the 
Judiciary Police all the more. When I visit 
Guinea-Bissau both women are out of the 
country. "Just away on vacation" is all Mendes 
will say. Later in my trip I hear about the 
death threats against Minister Pires, 

The threats get worse throughout the 
summer. When I follow up by phone from 
the States, the minister puts me off with no 
real explanation. I want an interview or 
at least an opportunity to e-mail her a few 
questions. Her office demands I explain my 
request in a notarized letter and send it as a 
PDF attachment, I comply with this silly for- 
mality, but they keep putting me off without 
really saying no. A friend of mine in Bissau, 
a young Lisbon-educated sociologist, tells 
me the situation is becoming too intense. 
He and others suspect the minister feels 
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efforts—by October, UN Secretary-General 
Ban Ki-moon is publicly calling for sanc- 
tions—and the increasingly powerful narco 
elements in her own government. 

The JP's archrival is the Ministry of the 
Interior. Run by Certorio Biote, it operates 
less like a ministry than like a gang, a net- 
work of kinsmen who seem to be involved 
in smuggling. In April the internecine 
struggle turned bloody: Members of an 
interior ministry SWAT team broke into 
Judiciary Police headquarters to torture 
and kill an officer who had threatened the 
operations of a drug gang. 

I press Mendes for confirmation of stories. 
like this, for details and names. He is ner- 
vous. He fidgets and tries to avoid specifics. 
His lonely office begins to feel like a hide- 
out. The window by his desk is shielded by 
metal bars. Ou a lush tree rises over 
the building, allowing only a murky green 
light to filter in. The office manages to be 
both barren and cluttered: The shelves 
are largely empty of papers, but what few 
exist are stacked haphazardly, spilling over, 
neglected, in disarray. 

The young interpreter with whom I'm 
working is the somewhat sheltered daugh- 
ter ofa prominent ambassador; she becomes 
frightened by Mendes's nervousness. Here's 
a cop who is uncomfortable saying things 
that are a matter of public record. A fear 
lies upon the city like a pall. It is expressed 
in the way no one asks any questions and 
never wants to answer any. Eventually 
Mendes says that among the military men 
making money on drugs are the head of the 
navy, Rear Admiral Jose Americo Bubo Na 
"Ichuto, and the armed forces chief of staff, 
General Batista Tagme Na Wai. 

Critics of the Judiciary Police wave away 
its antinarcotics efforts as nothing more 
than pandering, playing up to European 
donors and hustling rich countries for aid 
grants. Indeed, the EU has pledged 2 mil- 
lion euros’ worth of training to the JP. But 
that’s chump change when compared with 
the income from one cocaine shipment. 
Ultimately, the ragtag JP is well-meaning 
but outnumbered, 


In Bissau’s weekly newspapers and on one 
of its community radio stations, a few local 


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journalists have had the guts to report on 
the government's links to drug trafficking. 
But the price has been high. One writer, 
Allen Yero Emballo, had his home raided by 
the military. He was beaten, and his papers 
were seized. As the soldiers departed they 
told him, "Next time we'll leave the papers 
and just take your head." Emballo soon 
decamped for France. 

Fernando Jorge Pereira also had trouble. 
He writes for papers in Bissau and for Por- 
tugal's Expresso. I meet him at his house one 
evening. A wall of lush green plants stands 
between us and the potholed street outside. 
Nearby is a stadium of sorts: a raised basket- 
ball court flanked by cement bleachers, It is 
hot and there is no electricity for a fan, so 
we sit in the caged-in patio of Pereira's small 
colonial bungalow, its cement walls stained 
with mildew. I take 
notes as he speaks. 
After about an hour 
and a half the light has 
faded into dark shades 
of blue, and my note- 
book has faded away 
in the darkness. 

Pereira explains 
how he started by 
investigating some 
Colombians who ran 
a car dealership at 
the edge of town, "It 
was strange that they 
showed up here and 
started such a bu; 
says Pereira. 
It soon became clear 
the business—import- 
ing, exporting and 
selling used cars for 
cash—was a front 
for drug and money- 
laundering schemes. 
Like many such 
schemes, it operated 
for a while and then 
quietly closed up. 

In May 2007 
Pereira was fe 
particularly balls 
went out to the island 
of Bubaque, a known 
staging point for the 
drug trade, and lay in 
wait to photograph a 
small plane he knew 
would be landing. The security forces were 
also there and arrested Pereira, threatening 
him with imprisonment. Since then he has 
backed off the drug story. "It is too risky if I 
am going to continue living here," he says. 


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Few people know how the western African 
cocaine trade works. The sub-rosa world of 
smuggling is necessarily opaque. Regional 
and international police forces all admit 
ignorance. "Even we speculate on how it 
really works," says Mody Ndiaye, a Sen- 
egalese detective who now acts as a drug 
specialist in Guinea-Bissau for the United 
Nations Office on Drugs and Crime. His 
office is on the top floor of Bissau's high- 
est building, a six-story office block on a 
muddy road. He has a sweeping view of 


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the swamp and the dump, in which white 
cranes pick for scraps. 

Several factors have caused South Amer- 
ican traffickers to pivot toward Europe. 
The U.S. cocaine market is saturated, but 
cocaine use in Europe is on the rise, and 
the euro is strong. More robust antinar- 
cotics enforcement in Central America and 
the Caribbean has increased the cost of 
business. And there's the rise of metham- 
phetamine production and trafficking out 
of northern Mexico—competition from a 
cheap imitation. 

Over the past three years South Ameri- 
cans looking to open markets in the EU 
have started using western Africa as their 
transshipment arca. Ndiaye says the Latin 
Americans here do not operate as a cartel 
of any sort. In reality, organized crime is 


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less organized than we usually suspect. "It 
goes deal by deal, and the networks change 
according to the relationships of the indi- 
viduals in them," he says. "It is opportunis- 
tic and ad hoc, not formal organizations." 

Nor are there many Latin Americans 
here at any one time, Reading a few reports 
on Guinca-Bissau's drug trade, you get the 
idea the place is overrun with mustached 
Colombians. In fact, the drug scene is much. 
quieter. The illicit foreign businessmen 
appear much like their legitimate counter- 
parts: They live in secluded, well-guarded 
haciendas, or they stay at one of the nice 
hotels. They drive Land Rovers. They wear 
clean pressed clothes that never seem to be 
sweaty. But it's hard to tell who's export- 
ing cashews and who's exporting cashews 
packed to conceal cocaine. 


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In western Africa there has long been 
a class of independent foreign business- 
men involved in importing and exporting. 
You find them from Angola to the Congo 
and up through the west, small pockets of 
Portuguese, French, Italians and lots of 
Lebanese. They live with their families in 
fortified frontier-style luxury and travel 
back to the old country two or three times 
a year. Their walled-off hilltop compounds 
are clustered above the ragged towns 
where they do business exporting (timber, 
rubber, cocoa, coffee, diamonds and baux- 
ite) and importing (machinery, electronics, 
pesticides, guns, medicines and grains). 
To the extent that cocaine traffickers have 
partnered with this class of colonial mid- 
dlemen, they have also blended in. 

“I think there are only about nine Latin 
Americans here, 
says John Blacken, a 
former U.S. ambas. 
sador to ine 
Bissau, Like most 
countries, the U.S. 
no longer has an 
embassy here, so I 
meet Blacken in his 
cluttered office in an 
old colonial building 
in downtown Bissau. 
“They are here and 
have connections to 
the government,” he 
says, “but they keep 
it all very low-key. 

“There could be 
20 to 40 or maybe 
50 Latin Ameri- 
cans involved in the 
cocaine trade all 
across west Afri 
says Antonio Mazz- 
itelli, the United 
Nations Office on 
Drugs and Crime's 

or for western 


very fluid, mobile 
and spread out.” 
Mazzitelli believes 
Latin American 
smugglers visit 
Guinea-Bissau to 
make arrangements 
with local criminal 
networks, but he isn't 
sure if cocaine is sold to locals or if the locals 
handle the cocaine for a fee. At first the local 
links seemed to be extensions of the Ghana- 
ian and Nigerian gangs that have long dom- 
inated the western African underworld, but 
the deals increasingly involve new networks 
formed in Guinea-Bissau. The locals have 
contacts in the military, friends and family 
who can provide security and access to air- 
strips, the port and warehouse: 
"The cocaine itself is produced in Colom- 
bia and Peru, with much of the raw coca 
leaves being grown in the jungles of Bolivia. 
From Colombia and Peru the cocaine enters 
Venezuela and eastern Brazil, jumping-off 
points to Africa. From the easiern edge of 
Latin America the narcotics travel across 
the Atlantic in cargo ships or large yachts. 


8% 


These boats are met at sea by trawlers 101 


PLAYBOY 


102 


and smaller boats that smuggle the drugs 
ashore. Another common method is to use 
small passenger planes fitted with extra fuel 
tanks for the transatlantic flight. The drugs 
are resold and/or broken into smaller loads 
that are then shipped to Europe. The prod- 
uct may go to yet another western African 
nation before heading north, or it may be 
exported directly from the port at Bissau to 
Lisbon or Rotterdam. 

Most drugs leave western Africa hidden 
in cargo containers, stashed in loads of hard- 
wood, cashews, peanuts, yams and even 
African arts and crafts. Only a fraction of 
the intermodal shipping containers entering 
Europe are opened and physically searched. 
Another common smuggling method is the 
use of paid couriers who swallow drugs or 
simply stash the product in their luggage 
on the weckly Air Portugal flight to Lisbon. 
In 2006 Dutch authorities found 28 west- 
ern Africans carrying cocaine on a single 
flight from Mali. Á year later they found 22 
smugglers on a flight from the neighboring 
country of Guinea-Conakry. “We think this 
indicates a pretty constant flow using com- 
mercial air travel,” says Emmanuel Leclaire, 
assistant director for drugs and criminal 
organizations at Interpol. According to local 
UN personnel who spoke on condition of 
anonymity, diplomats from Guinea-Bissau 
have even used diplomatic mail pouches to 
smuggle cocaine. 

‘The drugs also move north from Guinea- 
Bissau by land, in trucks through Senegal 
and Mauritania and across the Sahara to 
the Mediterranean coast of Morocco. Tran- 
sit through this lawless interior is secured 
by bribing local security and militia forces, 
On occasion, it appears, Europeans are 


involved in this link as well: Not long ago 
a Frenchman driving a Land Rover full of 
cocaine was arrested in Mauritania, 

Increasingly, the western African drug 
trade—and its associated money launder- 
ing—works through legitimate front com- 
panies. The Colombians Correia helped to 
freedom claimed they were restarting an 
old construction firm, Sociedade Metro- 
politana de Construcées is housed in the 
now defunct branch of a Portuguese mul- 
tinational that years ago built a new, some- 
what modern port facility. Police say a small 
group of Colombians bought SOMEC and 
now use it to store and smuggle cocaine 
and launder money. 

Another interesting firm is Cervejas e 
Refrigerants de Guinea-Bissau. A state-run 
company that closed during the late 1990s, 
it was purchased by a Moroccan in 2006. 
It has huge warehouses near the port that 
were locked but clearly occupied when I 
visited. Edmundo Mendes of the Judiciary 
Police asked me not to poke around too 
aggressively because the JP is trying to 
crack the case. The company says it will 
be up and running soon. "They don't 
produce anything. They don't bottle 
anything," says Mendes. “This Moroccan 
owner, we don't know who he really is." 
Mendes and the UNODC suspect cocaine 
is hidden in refrigerant bottles and trans- 
ported north overland. 

Still another method involves the 
airport. A woman who ran part of the 
ground operations at the small national 
airport describes how the military would 
regularly take over the airport to allow 
small planes to land and take off at the 
far end of the runway. 


“It’s a bit like acupuncture, but I don't use needles!” 


"In the middle of the night the military 
would come in and just push us all aside," 
she says. "Planes would land and take off, 
and they would say, "Those are tourist 
flights, charter planes going to the islands." 
But it would be at three in the morning." 


European authorities want western African 
states to crack down on cocaine. Aid is on 
offer to local cops who at least make the 
gesture of combating drugs. Midsummer 
2008 saw a flurry of arrests. Fi a small 
Venezuelan-registered jet bearing a fake 
Red Cross sign was seized after it forced its 
way onto the tarmac of the Lungi Interna- 
tional Airport in nearby Sierra Leone. The 
plane held about 1,500 pounds of cocaine, 
and the police soon arrested more than 
60 people, including the brother of Sierra 
Leone's transportation minister, three Ven- 
ezuelans and cight other foreigners. 

Then Senegalese police noticed a group 
of about 15 Latin Americans were regularly 
shuttling between Brazil, Bissau and Dakar. 
The police started running background 
checks on these men before issuing them 
visas, but then the group stopped coming 
negal and started traveling through 
ea-Conakry instead. The mysterious 

sojourners included Colombians, 
Mexicans, Venezuelans and a Guatemalan. 

In early August the military in Guinea- 
Bissau seized two planes at Bissau's inter- 
national airport. One was a Gulfstream 
jet registered in Venezuela. Details were 
kept quiet, but there seems to have been a 
standoff between the military and the Judi- 
ciary Police. The police arrested the jet's 
three-man Venezuelan crew and the local 
head of the air-traffic control tower. But in 
a familiar pattern, the military seized the 
plane and would not allow the JP to search 
it, then claimed it contained no drugs. 

Another plane, which apparently came 
to fix the Gulfstream, was also impounded. 
A few weeks after this botched bust Justice 
Minister Pires announced she was receiving 
more death threats and warnings to drop 
her investigation. 

"The crisis took a strange turn on August 
8, 2008 when one of the biggest traffickers 
in Bissau—head of the navy, good old Rear 
Admiral Jose Americo Bubo Na Tchuto— 
was arrested by his main competition, the 
military, on the orders of General Batista 
Tagme Na Wai. "We have foiled a coup 
attempt that was to have been carried out 
early on Thursday by a group of officers," 
said a military spokesman, Was the army-vs.- 
navy struggle related to money and drugs? 
It's hard to tell. 

"Then on November 23, just after local elec- 
tions, there was a second attempt: About a 
dozen gunmen attacked the presidential resi- 
dence. During the short but bloody shoot-out 
President Joao Bernardo "Nino" Vieira was 
pinned down in his bedroom. The attack- 
ers were repelled, and a few were arrested, 
among them a navy sergeant named N'tchami 
Yala, who is said to be close to the now dis- 
graced Rear Admiral Bubo Na Tchuto. 


There aren't many luxury hangouts in 
Guinea-Bissau—three or four clubs in 


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the capital, one sort of nice hotel on one 
of the big islands. There is (or was) the 
Hotel Mar Azul, about an hour outside 
the capital city. For years Mar Azul was the 
rural party spot for Guinea-Bissau’s small 
elite—the same crew who now graces the 
Palace Hotel. But Mar Azul is currently 
off-limits, part of the drug maelstrom, The 
locals stay away, and the business has been 
leased to new owners. 

On а suffocatingly still afternoon I hire a 
car and drive out to Mar Azul, At the end of 
along, sandy road, the resort finally reveals 
itself. In marked contrast to the impover- 
ished landscape around it, Mar Azul sits on 
the banks of a wide river delta. It doesn't 
seem truly luxurious. Scattered about the 
grounds are a few thatch-roof bungalows. 
At the water's edge is a clean blue swim- 
ming pool surrounded by a tile patio. Down 
a few steps is an alfresco restaurant and a 
bar with a high roof. 

There are no guests, and the bunga- 
lows look sealed up. But the swimming 
pool is full, the bar is open, and the beer 
looks cold. The jungle presses up to 
the water, save for a thin sliver of beach 
lined with palm-thatch cabins. Several 
men are working at the water's edge 
but disappear when I sit down and ask 
the languid old barman, again, for that 
beer. Moored just off the beach is a small 
fleet of speedboats supposedly for use by 
sport fishermen, but not many of them 
are visiting. 

The trouble at Mar Azul began on Decem- 
ber 2, 2006 when Caterina Schwarz—the 
beautiful daughter of a former politician 
from a Portuguese immigrant family —was 
leaving after a weekend here and was 
stopped on the road and roughed up by a 
group of angry soldiers. 

“They smacked me and called me—I 
don't even want to say. Like, they called 
me a bitch,” says Schwarz, still shocked 
that a class of men she had been raised to 
see as servants would act so insanely. She 
complained to all her powerful friends, 
but nothing was ever done, and she was 
told to be quiet. 

It seems she had stumbled onto some 
sort of drug shipment going into or out 
of the coast near Mar Azul. Word got 
around that the hotel was unsafe, which 
led to a boycott by the rich locals. Busi- 
ness fell off, and Houssein Farhat, the 
Lebanese businessman who owns Mar 
Azul as well as a food import-export busi- 
ness, leased the place to new manage- 
ment, some of them from Latin America. 
“I have nothing to do with the business 
now,” says Farhat. 

The police and the UN say Mar Azul isa 
front for a smuggling operation, They are 
not clear about Farhat's role. As 1 drink 
my beer I talk with the new manager. “The 
new owners, I don't know where they are 
from, but they speak Spanish," explains 
Anthony Ferrage. I look out at the five or 
six speedboats moored off the coast. "The 
new owners are very interested in the 
dolphins," the manager says, gesturing 
to the water. "They want to restart this 
as an ecotourism business. They want to 
train the dolphins to swim with the tour- 
ists. They spend lots of time out on the 


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104 


water, studying the dolphins. They were 
also going to try to import some dolphins 
from Latin America—Mexico, I think. So 
they go there sometimes.” 

He says these ludicrous things with a 
totally straight face, and I nod earnestly. 


Guinca-Bissau's government is kept on life 
support by a UN peacekeeping mission and 
generous handouts from the EU. The cen- 
terpiece of this effort is a military reform 
program; if that fails, there won't be a func- 
tioning state, and the country could drift 
toward Somalia-style ruin. 

When I ask to speak with the military 
about drugs, they send me to the National 
Defense Institute, the office tasked with 
implementing the EU-funded transfor- 
mation agenda. The president is a civilian 
named Baciro Dja, a player in the ruling 
party. The offices are situated in a govern- 
ment compound of old colonial-era build- 
ings. The walls are freshly painted, the 
floors newly tiled, and air-conditioning 
keeps the interior cool and dry. There are 
even a few desks scattered around. But 
the place is empty. 

Dja's staff consists of two very young men. 
I arrive early for my interview, sit back and 
observe: One is watching YouTube videos 
of women shaking their asses. The other 
walks back and forth from room to room. 
Dja's office is clean and uncluttered. He is 
gracious and friendly. His discourse is equal 
parts NGO-speak and ham-fisted denial. 
One moment he's telling me about the 
byzantine structure of the security sector, 
then that it doesn't matter anyway because 
in Guinca-Bissau all relationships are per- 
sonal. Now he is defensively playing dumb: 
“I don't know. You tell me: Is the military 
involved in drug trafficking?" 

I explain that I am under the impres- 


sion it is and rather heavily, too. Toward the 
end of the interview Dja fixes on me and 
says, "Now let me ask you a question. Who 
really sent you? CIA? DEA? Interpol? Why 
do you wear those boots?" 

Like the discussion of dolphins and eco- 
tourism, it's another ridiculous but sinister 
exchange. The interview is a joke. It's clear 
there will be no real reform of the military. 
The EU doesn't even restrict the travel of 
Guinea-Bissau's drug-connected generals, 
who thus have no reason to change their 
ways. Even UNODC regional director 
Antonio Mazzitelli says he is “pessimistic 
about the possibility of change here." 

Why is this place such a mess? The lon- 
ger I stay in Bissau and the more I read 
its history, the more I feel the drug prob- 
lem is like another problem—the coun- 
try's foreign-aid addiction. The aid began 
to flow during the country's liberation 
struggle in the 1960s. Amílcar Cabral, 
the revolution's charismatic leader, was 
adept at courting international support. 
Cuba, the USSR and Czechoslovakia 
gave the most aid, but Japan and Sweden 
gave money too. In 1973, on the eve of 
independence, rivals in the party assas- 
sinated Cabral, his half brother Luis took 
power, and the revolution soon devolved 
into a one-party state. 

But the aid kept flowing. Instead of 
funding field hospitals and training for 
the guerrillas, it funded vanity proj- 
ects that looked like economic develop- 
ment: a paved highway to the airport, 
a Citroën auto factory that produced 
about seven cars, and an equally unpro- 
ductive export-oriented fruit cannery. 
Rural society—where the majority live 
as subsistence farmers—was ignored, 
while in the capital the incestuous politi- 
cal machinations grew more intense. A 
coup in 1980 was followed by sporadic 


"No, Kevin. It wasn't romantic and it isn't the thought that counts." 


unrest and then a real civil war. By 2006 
Guinea-Bissau's external debt was three 
times the size of its GDP. 

In some ways the cocaine trade is just 
another chapter in this story: A small urban 
clique looks for free money from overseas. 
The poorly managed western African war 
on drugs will likely operate in the same 
fashion, as an scam. This struck me 
while interviewing Carlos Pinto Pereira, 
a lawyer who, according to the Judiciary 
Police, handles paperwork for narco- 
connected officers. He denies that. 

Pereira works in the heart of Guinea- 
Bissau's old colonial town, which looks 
like New Orleans's French Quarter minus 
the paint, the commerce and most of the 
people. His second-story office, entered 
through a cramped stairwell, feels as if 
it were leaning over the street. Pereira is 
dressed in a white shirt and dark slacks, 
and he exudes seriousness, organization 
and business. “Tam not sure I want to talk 
to you,” he says when he finally receives 
me. “You are very unfair in the Western 
press. Your governments do nothing. If 
they wanted to help fight drugs, we are 
completely open. What will solve this 
problem? Send Special Forces. Help us 
defend our borders." 

But the army is the problem, no? Why 
give them money if the generals steal the 
wages of the troops? "I don't know about 
that," says Pereira. 


The day before I leave I walk to the 
port through the narrow streets. In a 
small bar I meet with the young sociolo- 
gist who earlier had shared his insights 
about the justice minister. He has agreed 
to show me the waterfront. We poke 
around the fish dock and look at various 
warehouses, all sealed up. The stench is 
powerful, and the area is filthy. A muck- 
smeared lane runs out to a concrete pier 
along which is tied a cluster of open boats 
heaped with nets. A few local fishermen 
lingering on the wharf lament that for- 
eign fleets overfish the local waters, "No 
one controls the national boundaries," 
explains one. 

We wander back to town, eventually 
arriving at a little plaza at the bottom 
of Avenida da Che Guevara. The small 
space is overgrown and strewn with 
trash. On one side stands a huge rusting 
sculpture of a black-power fist. Opposite 
that, at the bottom of the empty avenue, 
is a bust of Amílcar Cabral in his trade- 
mark wool cap and glasses. 

Once conceived as the city's seaside 
rallying point, the little plaza now encap- 
sulates the country's failures. The Cabral 
bust stares out toward the port, where 
nothing is moving except for a single 
crane at the end of a long pier. It is load- 
ing scores of bright-blue cargo containers 
onto a ship bound for Europe. "Chances 
are a few of those boxes contain cocaine," 
says the sociologist. "If you were the 
smuggler and one of your two containers 
were seized but the other got through, 
you would still be rich." 


HUGH LAURIE 


(continued from page 36) 
want to take. It's a sanctuary where you can 
retreat and silence the world. By contrast, 
most of the women were thinking, I go to 
the bathroom because I want to chat with 
other women, then they rush to get back to 
the table because they fear they're missing 
something. Men and women are very differ- 
entin how they relate to other human beings. 
Except on Facebook, of course. 

PLAYBOY: What do you mean? 

LAURIE: Well, I was with a group of people 
the other night who were comparing—I 
don't have a Facebook page—their own 
Facebooks or however you put it. “Oh, 
I've got 450," one said. "Oh, I've got 
600," said another. It turned out they 


to sway. The lamps started to move. I 
loved it. I loved it. It passed quickly, and 
we were back to work. But let's say that 
had been, you know, the big one, if that 
were the end. I can't tell you how many 
things I would regret not having done. 
The list would have a billion things on it, 
a billion things. I do feel it's something 
about, I suppose, my infantile nature. I 
don't really feel as if I've got going yet. 
Like so many eternally adolescent males, 
I still feel I'm going to live another thou- 
sand years and there's plenty of time. 
PLAYBOY: But then the earth starts rocking 
and—— 

LAURIE: Exactly, You're shaken out of 
your dream. I'm deluded, obviously, 
because, as you say, 1 am approaching 
50. But part of me still fears, for instance, 


When I'm making a television show, eight 
months go by just like that. It’s a wonder- 
ful thing to have a completely opposite 
experience, which is to get into the ring 
for three minutes and have time essen- 
tially stop. You cannot believe how long 
three minutes is until you've spent time 
in a boxing ring. If we could live our lives 
as intensely as one does in those three 
minutes, it would be like living for 10,000 
years. I love that feeling. 

PLAYBOY: Do you ever wonder where you 
would be if House hadn't come along? 
LAURIE: Yes, I do. I mean, I was aware of 
the fact that this was my shot. Not a shot at 
just anything but a shot at doing an Ameri- 
can network television show—to play the 
lead on one, anyway. Because I was already 
too old for that. I think if their dreams 


were talking about 
friends—Facebook 
friends. Now, I don't 
think I've met 450 
people in my life. I 
certainly can't keep 
track of them, and I 
certainly don't want 
to stay in touch with 
that many people. 1 
don't know how on 
earth you do that, 1 
realized very quickly 
I am too old for 
this level of social 
engagement. 
PLAYBOY: You're 
about to turn 50. 
LAURIE: It sounds so 
ominous when you 
put it like that. 
PLAYBOY: What are 
some things you 
wish you knew ear- 
lier in life? 

LAURIE: To tell you 
the truth, the older 1 
get, the less I know. 
I keep meeting peo- 
ple, both older and 
younger, who seem 
to have accrued so 
much more knowl- 
edge or expertise 
or certainty about 
who they are and 
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years, for one thing. 
That would have 
suited their demo- 
graphics. So this was 
my shot. I thought, 
If it doesn't work, 
fine. ТЇЇ be playing 
the neighbor or the 
kindly uncle or Mr. 
Smithers the geog- 
raphy teacher, but 
I won't be the main 
guy. Fortunately, 
things worked out 
differently. 

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LAURIE: Happy. In 
a relationship with 
a kindred spiri 
Understood, But if 
it doesn't happen, 
it's probably just 
as well. See, 1 have 
these practical theo- 
ries about television, 
which is that charac- 
ters don't grow and 


I just marvel at it. 
I don't know how they get that certain 
about what they're doing. I certainly 
don't have that. I look back on what 
we've done on House and think, Wow, 
it's like we've come through a minefield. 
One wrong move, one bad casting deci- 
sion, one story line that didn't work and 
the air would have gone out of the thing. 
People would have started to whisper, 
"Oh, that show? It's not very good." And 
suddenly we'd be canceled. I don't know 
how anything works, frankly. I'm quite 
conscious of the fact that no secrets are 
being revealed to me with age. 

Which is not to say I don't have things 
I want to learn and do as I look ahead. 
For example, I had my first earthquake 
the other day. We were shooting, the cam- 
era was rolling, and everything started 


that I haven't chosen my profession yet. 
I certainly haven't worked out who I am. 
I haven't worked out what to do with my 
life. I haven't made half the choices and 
decisions I want to make. It's insane, I 
know, but that's sort of how I felt. I think 
that's what I like about boxing: You're 
forced to live intensely. 

PLAYBOY: Boxing? Are you any good? 
LAURIE: I'm hopeless, but I love it. I abso- 
lutely love it. Well, I sort of love it. But it's 
love mixed with fear. Not fear of physical 
harm, because unless you do it repeatedly 
and get hit in the head a lot, you'll sur- 
vive. It's more the fear of being humili- 
ated, which sort of messes with your 
perceptions of, I suppose, maleness. To 
question your maleness is a very intense 
experience. But there's something else. 


change. They can't, 
or you wouldn't have a series. Columbo 
didn't grow and change; he just solved 
more stuff. My theory with House is he'll 
continue to be separated from joy right to 
the end. That's just who he is. 

PLAYBOY: And what about you? 

LAURIE: No, no. Joy is absolutely the 
essential thing for me. It has become 
my obsession to find it, to hold on to it. 
One of the biggest things I fear is hap- 
piness. Fear is probably my only obstacle 
to it right now. I have a very good life. I 
am fortunate in so many ways. Now the 
secret is simply to delight in every breath 
and every step. Oh my God, that was a 
Sting song! I can't believe I'm ending 
this on a Sting song. 


105 


PLAYBOY 


106 


GIRLS 
(continued from page 92) 


Croatia, among other locations. (In those 
last two spots she was recognized on the 
beach by GND fans.) 

“From the beginning I've wanted to 
host my own show, and I think this is 
the start of a whole new career,” Bridget 
says. “But I don't think this is the end of 
the road for the Girls Next Door, because 
I truly believe Holly, Kendra and I will 
be friends and do things together for the 
rest of our lives." 

Will viewers embrace new girls the 
way they've embraced Holly, Bridget 
and Kendra? "That's the big question,” 


admits Hef, "and at this point there is 
absolutely no way of knowing." But he 
does know the next season will pro- 
vide a little of everything: the further 
adventures of our old favorites, plus the 
arrival of new girls with all the attendant. 
drama, as well as the life of Hefner him- 
self, unexpectedly "back in the game" at 
the age of 82. 

“We always knew season six would be 
a season of transition, but nobody knew 
exactly what that meant,” he says. Then 
he laughs. “Reality caught up to what we 
were planning, and now we're dealing 
with a whole new adventure." 


Eus 


m е. 


Кш 


WHISTLE 


(continued from page 46) 
and certainly appearance. Donovan 
McNabb once said of Hochuli and his chis- 
eled physique, “He stands on the sideline 
looking like one of the linebackers.” 

You can therefore excuse skeptics who 
may wonder, Exactly how does a 58- 
year-old guy nurture so much muscle? 
Hochuli—who compares reffing to “a 
mainline of adrenaline going through your 
system”—has left some fans musing about 
what else may be going through his system. 
And early this season he showed that even 
messiahs have mortal moments: a horren- 
dous call in a complex late-game situation 
that led directly to a Broncos win over the 
Chargers and to hundreds of hate e-mails 
from Chargers fans. 

The veteran of two Super Bowls is 
equally well-known for his expansive— 
some might say wordy—disquisitions sur- 
rounding a given flag. (He does not regard 
it as coincidence that the long-winded ref 
in a familiar Subway commercial wears 
his number, 85.) “As a trial lawyer, I make 
my living speaking extemporancously, 
thinking on my feet, and that's what I'm 
doing on Sunday as well,” he says as he 
kills time in McCarran Airport before one 
of his many corporate speaking gigs. “At 
the same time, when you get comfortable 
talking in front of hundreds of 
of people, it’s not at all nerve-racking to 
speak in front of a few dozen.” 

Though Hochuli makes NFL officiat- 
ing sound like the most natural thing on 
earth, getting your zebra stripes is the cul- 
mination of a multidecade odyssey begin- 
ning on neighborhood fields that might 
have been purposely designed to break 
ankles. “You start at Pop Warner, and then 
it’s how much of yourself you're willing to 
invest," says Hochuli. “It takes 15, 20 years 
of dedication,” 

NFL officiating is one of those don't- 
call-us-we'll-call-you affairs, Each year 
the few dozen prospects (out of some 
3,000 applicants) who reach the recruit- 
ment stage earn the right to be subjected 
to a background investigation worthy of 
the Secret Service. "That's no exaggera- 
tion,” says ref Bill Leavy, who was a Secret 
Service agent. 

The league begins by scrutinizing a 
candidate’s financial circumstances— 
investigations that have grown more per- 
tinent in light of recent gambling scandals 
involving NBA official Tim Donaghy 
and Big 10 football ref Stephen Pamon. 
Post-Donaghy, the league increased 
the frequency of the periodic checks it 
runs on officials, even after they're NFL 
mainstays, from every five years to every 
other year. Also, says Mike Pereira, NFL. 
vice president of officiating since 2001, 
“we used to give out all the game assign- 
ments at the beginning of a season. Now 
we release them three weeks out.” The 
logic is simple: The less notice anyone has 
of which crews will be working where, the 
lower the odds, if you will, of mischief. 

The NFL won't discuss how many candi- 
dates are eliminated because of background 


checks or precisely why they are let go. 
"Hiring is case by case," is all Pereira will 
say. Some red flags are obvious enough. 
If Easter dinner has always meant lasagna 
with the Gottis, don't expect a phone call 
from the NFL. During the season an official 
who merely sets foot in a casino or race- 
track risks immediate suspension. Bet on a 
team sport at any time and you're gone. 

Tf the first check checks out, former 
FBI agents go knocking on doors to size 
up a candidate's romantic history, as well 
as his more casual personal relationships. 
As one official coyly observes, “There 
are presidents who probably wouldn't 
qualify as NFL referees." Recruits then 
huddle with a psychologist and undergo 
a battery of tests designed to gauge their 
emotional and intellectual makeup. "The 
league wants to make sure you're really 
crazy enough to do this," jokes Slaugh- 
ter, an engineer when he's not officiating 
Super Bowls. 

Surviving candidates are dispatched to 
a lesser pro league for a few seasons. With 
the sudden demise of NFL Europe in 2007 
the NFL now relies on its relationships 
with arena ball and the new All American 
Football League. 

At which point, at long last, a candidate 
is poised for...the call. "It's an incredible 
feeling to tell a guy that after his 20-some 
years of effort he's really getting in,” says 
Pereira, who makes all such calls person- 
ally. "Guys break down." His welcome 
packet includes a starting salary of $47,840 
for the 16-game season, which can escalate 
to a current high of $132,800. Though 
modest by overall sports standards, those 
figures have come a long way since the 
aforementioned lockout, when a rookie 
zebra earned less than $23,000. 

The league's seven-man crews take shape 
cach year around April 1. (Cynics find irony 
in the timing.) Rule changes go out along 
with videos of each official's iffier calls from 
the prior year. In July come the clinics: 
three-day dawn-to-way-past-dusk affairs at 
a Dallas facility. Officials must manage not 
to embarrass themselves in a half-mile run, 
a 40-yard dash and assorted agility drills. 
Then it's on to the NFL preseason camps. 

For all that prep and practice, first games 
are always a shock to a rookie official's 
system. “Cleveland at Green Bay, 1990, 
says Hochuli, “I don't remember the first 
quarter at all. The first flag 1 threw, the 
moment it hit the ground I realized, Wait 
a minute. This is Sunday, not Saturday. 
That's not а foul up here.” 

Above all, zebras must adjust to the 
defining characteristic of NFL play: the 
sheer speed of the action. “In college,” says 
Pereira, “you had one or two guys who 
were really quick. In the NFL all 22 guys 
are really quick.” 

Carey cites a moment from his NFL 
debut in Chicago. “I was a side judge 
then,” he says, "so I'm downfield as the 
pass play develops. It’s a deep out, and 
the quarterback overthrows the receiver 
by a long way. I think, There's no way 
that ball gets caught. And U'm getting 
ready to shut it down and go back upfield 
for the next play. All of a sudden not only 
does the receiver run under the ball, but 


as he catches it he does a perfect double 
toe tap to stay inbounds. I'd given up. I 
almost blew it." 


. 


With Manning dead ahead and about to 
take the snap, umpire Tony Michalek sets 
up in the no-man's-land behind the New 
England linebacking corps. When first- 
hand lessons are to be learned about the 
speed and violence of NFL play, it's the 
umpire who usually learns them: A few 
years ago Pamplona-like trampling inci- 
dents ended the careers of veterans Bob 
Boylston and Rex Stuart. Savvy teams will 
even use umpires to set picks for receiv- 
ers, Once, when Michalek experimented 
with slightly different positioning during 
a preseason game, an offensive coordina- 
tor got in his face, saying, "What the heck 
are you doing? That play was designed to 
run off of you." 

The significance of a Super Bowl assign- 
ment to Michalek is such that he recalls 
the exact time—10:48 a.m.—of Pereira's 
congratulatory call. He spent the ensuing 
hours thanking people who had encour- 
aged him along the way. Another natural 
at officiating, Michalck likes to say his 23 
years as a trader on the Chicago Mercantile 
Exchange (“200 guys in a pit, sweating and 
shoving each other") toughened him up 
for the NFL. He was top-rated in 2006 as 
well but, with only five years of experience 
and no postseason experience, ineligible 
for the Super Bowl, which then required 
five seasons plus postseason action, As a 
consolation prize he got the Colts-Patriots 
AFC Championship game, which some 
were calling Super Bowl XLI%. 

Now, with Super Bowl XLII nearing 
an end, Michalek homes in on the hands 
of center Shaun O'Hara; with his periph- 
eral vision he scans the offensive line for 
flinches. O'Hara snaps the ball, and the 
pocket collapses so fast you'd think it was 
a designed play. Michalek searches the 
scrum, making sure the offensive linemen 
don't break the rules as they desperately try 
to protect their harried passer. Whoever's 
getting beat is the guy who's gonna cheat. 
(Defenders know this and will sometimes 
lube themselves up to ward off groping 
hands. That's why part of Michalek's pre- 
game routine consists of checking four ran- 
dom players for slippery substances.) 

Richard Seymour muscles past O'Hara, 
and sure enough, the Giants’ wily vet- 
eran has a huge arm looped across the 
defensive end's chest—but the arm's just 
lying there, in Michalek's judgment, not 
impeding Seymour. Technically it’s hold- 
ing, maybe, but something only a novice 
would call—and then hear about from 
Pereira. No flag. 

Then just like that a leather-clad cruise 
missile sizzles over Michalek’s head. His 
instincts swivel him downfield, where he 
sees Tyree and Harrison crumpling to the 
turf, the ball inches from the grass. Often 
on such plays Michalek will exchange 
glances with the deep guys and they'll 
have that “look”—the look of indecision. 
Not this time. 

Michalek breathes a sigh of relief as he 
runs to set the ball in case the Giants go 


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HAM AND KIMBERLY HILL. 


107 


PLAYBOY 


108 


with a hurry-up. The goal of officiating, he 
likes to say, “is that when the game's over, 
no one's talking about the officiating." 


Jerry Markbreit is among a select group 
of people responsible for minimizing the 
time fans spend talking about the officiat- 
ing. Today the former ref trains his succe 
sors. Each position has a trainer, a man wii 
decades of experience in the trenches. 

"When you're out there," Markbreit 
says, “it's like a war. Seven officials control 
the battle. I felt invincible on the field. I'm 
five-foot-nine, 195 pounds. I felt six-foot- 
nine and 290." Markbreit spent 23 seasons 
on that battlefield —457 games, he'll tell 
you—enforcing the league's version of the 
Geneva Conventions. He remains the only 
ref with four Super Bowls under his black 
uniform belt. 

Markbreit's bottom line? Focus. "At the 
snap," he says, "everybody has one major 
responsibility. When Mike Carey's working, 
if you watch his head, no matter what's hap- 
pening, Mike is watching the quarterback. 
If you lose your focus on even one play, 
something bad can happen." 

Ahh yes, something Бай... Through the 
years, NFL zebras have indisputably taken 
more flak per total number of calls than 
officials in any other major sport. Thus the 
famed Subway ad. For the record, it goes 
as follows: "I totally blew that call. In fact, it 
wasn't even close, But don't worry. ТЇЇ penal- 
ize the other team—for no good reason—in 
the second half. To even things up." 

"I find it humorous," says Hochuli. 
"It's actually one of the clips I use in my 
presentations." 

Pereira is not amused. "It upsets me," he 
says crisply. "And it's not just the Subway 
thing. There's the one with the ref who 


can't get the sugar in the cup and another 
who doesn't have the coin for the coin flip 
in the Southwest Airlines commercial." 
He insists people who buy into buffoon- 
ish depictions have no concept of the time 
and effort that go into analyzing and certi- 
fying an official's performance each week. 
Pereira and his eight-man staff exam- 
ine every play of every game from three 
angles: the TV shot, the coaches' sideline 
perspectives and the end zone. “Judged on 
the accuracy of the roughly 35,000 plays 
during the scason," says Pereira, "I can 
tell you we're accurate 97 percent of the 
time." (Asked to name the play that most 
naturally lends itself to controversy, Carey 
replies, "Pass interference. Is it a catchable 
ball? Who got there first? Was the contact 
relevant to the play? Et cetera.") 

Three verdicts are possible on any given 
play: correct call, incorrect call or incor- 
rect no-call—e.g., a hold that should have 
been called but wasn't. All mistakes are 
known as downgrades. "I'd imagine the 
average is four downgrades a game,” says 
Hochuli, who has been known to award a 
plunger to the crew member who makes 
the shittiest call. “In a bad game there may 
be six, seven.” 

And worse than that? Hochuli says 
bluntly, “You're not there anymore.” 

At the end of a season about one in 10 offi- 
cials aren't there anymore. Not all of them 
take it lying down, Ben Dreith, released in 
1990 at the age of 65, sued for age discrimi- 
nation and settled out of court for $160,000 
in back pay plus attorney's fees. 

‘Top-rated officials, however, qualify for 
postseason play, with its added rewards 
of $5,500 (for cach man) for cach playoff 
game and $11,000 for the Super Bowl. At 
season's end the top eight crews officiate 
the first two rounds of the playoffs, and 


"I never did like Robert's first wife." 


the highest-rated official at each individ- 
ual position gets the Super Bowl. 


Two who have been so designated, field 
judge Boris Check and side judge Larry 
Rose, will converge on The Play from their 
respective flanks, 20 yards deep. 

Throughout this Super Bowl, Cheek has 
seen the Giants come at the Patriots again 
and again, Even after New England scored 
with just two minutes, 42 seconds left, 
Cheek overheard Michael Strahan on the 
sideline, rallying the troops, saying, “Keep 
playin’, man! We're gonna come back and 
win this!” Cheek already knew the Giants’ 
defensive end was a hell of a motivator. 
Now he wonders, Will Strahan turn out to 
be a prophet, too? 

Meanwhile, 11-year veteran Larry Rose, 
undoubtedly one of the league’s more 
regimented officials, cycles through his 
presnap rituals: Make sure the sideline is 
unobstructed, Count the defensive players. 
He also thinks situations: Third and five, so 
it’s probably a pass. During the action, Rose 
will talk to himself—aloud. When a run- 
ning back's knee hits the ground, he'll say, 
"Down. Down.” That registers the result in 
his mind. So if the ball pops out, he knows 
it can't be a fumble. 

With The Play developing between them, 
Rose and Check search for their keys. So 
intent is Rose on wideout Plaxico Burress 
that he's the only crew member unaware 
of the world of hurt Manning is in. Mean- 
while, Check picks up Toomer, who just 
blew by Slaughter; in the process he spots 
Harrison closing on Tyree. 

Suddenly Cheek sees Tyree jump. Man, 
he went up for that ball! Though Harrison 
is all over him, the play looks clean. Rose 
sees it too: The ball appears to be pasted 
cartoonishly to Tyree’s helmet. Rose thinks, 
If he hits the turf, I'm gonna say, “Incom- 
plete! Incomplete!" 

That evening, when Rose watches the 
replay at a postgame banquet, the thought 
that sticks in his mind is, If Carey had 
whistled Manning as being in the grasp, 
arguably the greatest play in Super Bowl 
history never would have happened. 


Nine years ago this season, the NFL 
revived instant replay (supplemented by 
the present system of coaches' challenges). 
Replay's first tour of duty, 1986 to 1991, 
failed largely because decisions were made 
by booth officials who reviewed plays at 
will. They would rewind and freeze-frame 
tapes interminably as fans, players and 
disenfranchised game officials fidgeted. In 
the final year of that system an astonishing 
570 plays came under review—adding, by 
Markbreit's estimate, seven to 10 minutes to 
cach game. Even so, the replays produced 
rulings that couldn't withstand subsequent. 
NFL scrutiny. "The year it got voted out, 
30 plays were reversed," says veteran head 
linesman Mark Baltz, a Hallmark rep when 
away from the field. “Теп of those reversed 
calls were incorrect." 

Then came 1998 and the infamous Phil 
Luckett. Though by any yardstick 1998 was 
a lousy year for officiating, the nadir was 


a cluster of late-season calls involving the 
Luckett crew. In particular the crew mistak- 
enly awarded a crucial touchdown to Jets 
quarterback Vinny Testaverde in a Decem- 
ber 6 Jets-Seahawks game with playoff impli- 
cations. Facing a fourth and goal from the 
five, with 27 seconds left to go, Testaverde 
tried a quarterback sneak. Though his hel- 
met inched over the goal line, TV replays 
from every angle showed the ball itself 
resting a good foot short. Still, head lines- 
man Earnie Frantz ruled a touchdown, and 
despite the outcry from the Seattle sideline, 
Luckett let it stand. The phantom score all 
but eliminated the Seahawks from playoff 
contention and, many felt, cost Seattle coach 
Dennis Erickson his job. 

Ancient history, says Pereira. “Last year 
84 plays were corrected. That's 84 head- 
aches I didn't have to have on Monday 
morning." Which doesn't stop "perhaps 
28 of the 32 clubs" from contacting him 
cach week during the season, he admits. 
"Remember, I deal with 16 teams that lose 
every week. I never go undefeated.” 

Pereira takes some lumps for his tireless 
defense of his crews. Sports blogger Adam 
Rank proposed that "an NFL referee could 
kill an NFL coach with a trident and there 
would be Pereira to defend the move." 
Others bemoan his defense of the officiating 
during the 2005 postseason, when it seemed 
the zebras conspired to “take the game 
from" the Steelers—the quote is from Pitts- 
burgh's Jocy Porter—in their playoff against 
the Colts, then gift wrapped Super Bowl XL 
for the Steelers at Seattle’s expense. 

Some attribute all officiating woes to the 
fact that the league is the only pro sport 
with part-time officials. Retired line judge 
Ron Blum, a golf pro, has no illusions, say- 
ing, "You'll hear things like ‘These guys 
lock up their hardware store on Saturday 
and go to work in the NFL on Sunday, so 
they don't give a shit.’” 

Officiating at the NFL level is hardly 
part-time employment. “You prepare every 
day,” says Carey. “Multiple hours a day. 
You're lucky to have a ‘real’ job that gives 
you that latitude.” Markbreit adds that it's 
not just seasonal work, either. "During the 
off-season, many hours each week are spent 
studying, watching video and attending. 
meetings. I've always said officiating is a full- 
time job masquerading as a part-time job.” 

Pereira sees no need for full-time officials 
in a sport with a schedule that stretches to 
20 games at most, including postseason play. 
Noting that in the decades it takes to reach 
the NFL, candidates will have developed 
their own businesses and lifestyles, he adds, 
“If I said we were going to go full-time, Га 
probably lose 30 percent of my staff." 

The zebras will tell you that regardless 
of what beat writers may think, refs pride 
themselves on having the respect of the 
most knowledgeable football insiders of all: 
the players. Sure, sometimes you'll get called 
out by a Joey Porter. And you're not likely 
to get sympathy when you're wounded in 
action, either. Former umpire Bob Wag- 
ner tells of the time he stopped one of Dan 
Marino's lasers with his forehead. “I did a 
360, wobbled around. One of the lineback- 
ers said, “Bob, you all right? I said, "Yeah, 
I think so.’ Next thing I knew, Marino was 


looking at me and saying, ‘Well, if you're all 
right, then get the fuck out of the way next 
time—you ruined a good pass!" 

Still, says Carey, "for 99 percent of the 
players, it's ‘No, sir. Yes, sir" Even when 
it comes to the trash talk between play- 
ers, says Hochuli, "you'd be surprised how 
much of that is joking.” 

ТО. too? Yes, the refs agree. T.O. too. 

Being realists, officials harbor little hope 
of ever winning over their ultimate critics— 
the fans. You wonder, though: Aren't there 
times when a high-profile ref encounters 
an unusually appreciative fan, say, back at 
the hotel bar? It bears noting, for example, 
that one of Carey's colleagues refers to him 
as "the ebony Elvis." 

"Mike's a genuine rock star,” says the 
official. "He's got that presence. Every- 
body wants to take pictures with him, to be 
around him,” Carey laughs and waves off 
such characterizations. But Hochuli con- 
cedes, "I'd have to say yes, there are group- 
ies. I'm just not sure any of my groupies 
would be found in PLAYBOY.” 


Scott Helverson is this Super Bowl crew's “free 
safety” As back judge, he covers deep middle, 
a good 40 yards from the line of scrimmage. 
"That's where The Play will find him, 

This whole drive, the juices have been 


flowing big-time, because Helverson knows 
it's probably the Giants' last possession—do 
or die. In this clean game it was he who 
called the first foul, a long-ago pass interfer- 
ence against the Giants. He'd prefer not to 
have to call its last one on some Hail Mary. 
Even from half a field away Helverson 
can see Manning is in trouble. And then, 
from out of the melee: Incoming! Instinc- 
tively Helverson shifts his focus to the 
receivers. If he's going to spot an infrac- 
tion, he won't do it by admiring the pass. 
Tyree makes his leaping grab directly 
in front of the back judge, who rushes to 
the pile; his top priority is to peel Harrison 
off the receiver in case the Giants go with 
a hurry-up. The Play becomes Act I of a 
stunning run of game action that unfolds 
in Helverson's neighborhood, climaxed a 
few snaps later by Burress's backpedaling 
touchdown catch. When he sees it again on 
ТУ in his hotel room at one A.M., it occurs 
to Helverson that he may never again offici- 
ate a more thrilling sequence of football. 
"That realization is hours away, however. 
What's on his mind as the Giants prepare 
to kick off again is this: From the start of 
"The Play, it took Manning all of 36 seconds 
to get the Giants into the end zone. Let's 
sce what Tom Brady can do with 35. 


“You folks are in luck—this property just came on the market!” 


109 


PLAYBOY 


Peep Culture 
(continued from page 59) 
ago Rupert Murdoch's MySpace pioneered 
something called interest targeting, which in- 
volves flagging likes and dislikes on its users" 
pages to sell ads. Peter Levinsohn, head of 
Fox Interactive Media, told an investor con- 
ference this scheme would harness the power 
of information that users put on their pages 
for all to see. In other words, we'll make it 
easy for you to peep yourself, and then we'll 
peep you right back. Remember, MySpace 
continues to be the number one social- 
networking site in the U.S. “This is really just 
the beginning for us,” Levinsohn promises. 
“Мо one else in the marketplace can offer 
this kind of concentrated reach.” The more 
corporations make it their business to help 
us reveal ourselves and watch one another, 
the more they know about us and the less 
control we have over our lives, What seems 
like innocent fun can turn nasty. New York 
private detective Steven Rambam tells me he 
has used YouTube to break workmen's com- 
pensation cases. Lawyers have used pictures 
posted on MySpace and Facebook to portray 
people involved in drunk-driving crash 
unrepentant partyers, (Judges who see pi 
feckless undergrads wearing shot-glass belts 
and chugging beers are quick to impose the 
maximum sentence.) The pcep profiteers, 
from Google to Facebook to any number of 
reality-TV producers, know they sometimes 
leave psychological and even physical wreck- 


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age behind them. But what happens after 
your life has been turned into a momentary 
spectacle isn't their problem. As casting direc- 
tor Barcinas explains, “Reality television is an 
industry. We have a product, and that prod- 
uct happens to be episodes of people's lives, 
emotions and experiences. That product 
needs to be turned over and made, just as in 
any other industry. We have orders to fill." 


7. UTOPIAN PEEP 


Ten ycars ago futurist David Brin argued 
in his book The Transparent Society that we 
should stop protecting privacy and work 
toward the utopian notion of transparency. 
In the transparent society there would be no 
secrets. All citizens would have equal access 
to equal information. Since Brin's specula- 
tions on the benefits of transparency, various 
writers have pointed to the new ега of ubiq- 
uitous peeping and widespread surveillance 
(self-directed and otherwise) as evidence 
that we are moving toward just 
ety. But is that what's happe: 
peep has belonged to those individuals and 
corporations with the wherewithal to turn 
themselves into carefully crafted characters. 
‘Transparency in our current peep climate 
has become a new kind of public relations. 
3 ng in Peepville means creating con- 
vincingly transparent identities—"Look, 
I've got nothing to hide!" —while carefully 
hoarding secrets of significance for use as 
future commodities. It's a difficult act. But 
you need to start practicing, because peep 


Duck. 


is a high-wire performance. There's our 
desire to be noticed, but there's also our 
right to rut in private without ending up on 
some horny teen's cell phone. There's the 
desire to peep and the desire not to have a 
juvenile mistake inscribed on a sign you'll 
wear around your neck for the rest of your 
life. If peep culture isn't moving us toward 
a utopian transparent society, why are we so 
caught up in it? Anthropologists talk about 
"human universals," behaviors all people 
have always exhibited. One of the classic 
universals is, as anthropologist Donald E. 
Brown writes in his book Human Universals, 
"sexual modesty. People do not normally 
copulate in public." But in our society peo- 
ple deliberately choose to make their sex 
acts public. That doesn't necessarily mean 
we're freaks, human beings unlike any who 
have ever walked the earth. Think of it more 
as a human universal overturned in order 
to reclaim another even more fundamental 
principle—our natural need to be known 
as individuals, not as statistics and demo- 
graphics. Can millions of people screwing 
themselves silly on low-res video really be 
thought of as natural? Maybe we're going a 
bit too far. Maybe we're not meant to have 
all our secrets displayed. Maybe we need to 
decide if peep is about revealing our true 
selves or feeding our collective hunger for 
other people's secrets. 


SUED одр риск! T NEVER Gtr 
Te NAVE ANY FN £ 


SUCCESS 


(continued from page 26) 
1,000-year-old eggs, sea urchin and all 
parts of the duck, the meal included 
maotai, a Chinese liquor that tasted like 
kerosene mixed with vermouth. Maybe 
not that good. After many toasts came the 
speeches, followed by long translations. 

Much to the delight of our hosts, Hayes 
was developing a taste for maotai. 

The factories themselves were disap- 
pointing. We had expected the machin- 
ery to be old and rusted, which it was, 
but the big surprise was how dirty the 
factories were. There was no effort at 
all for clean conditions. If grease or dirt 
appeared on a shoe coming off the line, 
the response was "It's still perfectly func- 
tional." And of course all factories were 
state-owned, with many bureaucrats 
overseeing everything—and nothing. 


Could we really do this? Could we really 
make Nike a force in China? 

We ended our tour in the commercial 
center of Shanghai. 

I had decided we would take the train 
to see the countryside and maybe get 
away from the guided portion of our visit 
and sce some of the "real" people. 

I got first-class tickets, which meant, 
in those 90 degree, 90 percent humidity 
days, we would have an air-conditioned 
car. "Air-conditioned" turned out to be a 
six-inch fan in the corner. 

The Chinese had a way of dealing with 
the temperature. They stripped off their 
Mao jackets and trousers and walked 
about the car in their underwear. Hayes 
and Strasser thought it was a brilliant 
way to beat the heat. If we drew stares 
in Tiananmen Square, you should have 
seen the looks when two of the only four 
round-eyes on the whole train, weighing 
a combined 700 pounds, strolled to the 
lounge car in their skivvies. 

At first the Chinese wouldn't look. 
Then they would sneak a peek, then 
stare, a slight smile crossing their faces. 
"Then broad grins and finally grcat gales 
of laughter. 

Funny. Hayes had all those phobias, 
but walking around nearly naked on a 
train with 200 Chinese strangers didn't 
make the list. 

On our last night in China Hayes 
decided he wanted to have a drink with 
the locals. The guide told him that was 
hopeless. After all, no Chinese citizen 
without special permission was allowed 
to visit a foreigner's hotel. 

“By God, they'll drink with us," Hayes 
thundered. He still had 10 bottles of 
vodka. So he grabbed one of the others 
and their guide and headed to the near- 
est People's Bar, where the bar manager 
accepted the vodka and Hayes began 
ordering drinks on the house. No tak- 
ers at first, but through various forms of 
sign language and laughter, after a while 
they had one taker. Then two. By two in 
the morning the bar was noisy with song 
and stories. 


“I thought,” I said to the guide, “no 
locals would drink with foreigners.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. Then he 
smiled. 

An odd moment in a strange land. It 
was kind of a breakthrough, maybe one 
that no one from the West had experi- 
enced in a very long time. 

When we returned to Oregon we had 
agreed to try to upgrade a couple of 
factories, and we were hoping to leap 
the bureaucracy to get to all those feet. 
But factory managers could not under- 
stand why the shade of nylon had to be 
the same on each shoe in a pair. And we 
had to get pricing agreements on every 
model from four different ministries; if 
one disagreed, production was halted. 
After a year of frustration we tried 
incentive payments. They didn't work. 
Nothing worked. 

It was clear by any quantitative mea- 
sure that we had failed. Any success Nike 
would have in China was decades off, 
"This mistake would dwarf my earlier lulu 
of famous bad predictions: "Magic John- 
son will never make it in the NBA.” 

Was the trip a waste? As my best 
accounting advisor reminded me, "Earn- 
ings per share are more than a number." 

Something else happened as well—at 
least for me personally, and I think for the 
others, too. Twelve days inside a country 
I had never expected to see changed the 
way I thought about the world. 

Despite the people being so guarded, in 
their uniforms of one kind or another, the 
man in the street had a wonderful sense 
of humor and was aching to reach out. 
The single style of sport shoe was func- 
tional but spoke nothing of a billion indi- 
viduals. Shoes fit more than your feet. 

‘Twenty-eight years after that first visit 
I went back. I watched families in a Bei- 
jing Nike store carefully go through many 
styles and colors until they found the 
right fit for their son or daughter. 

In the 600-person Shanghai office, as 
I was getting ready to have a picture 
taken with employees who administer 
the sales at 5,000 Nike stores, one of 
the 20-somethings said, in perfect Val- 
ley girl English, "This is, like, so cool. 
When will China's Nike sales be greater 
than the U.S.'s?” 

I smiled and thought back to Del Hayes 
and the Nike headquarters near Beaver- 
ton, Oregon. Hayes lives in tranquility 
now with his wife on his farm in Newberg, 
Oregon, and his three kids and a passel of 
grandchildren visit him often. But I still 
picture him, Uncle Remus one more time, 
joking and telling stories, surrounded by 
15 Chinese, none of whom spoke his lan- 
guage but all of whom understood what 
he was saying. 

At Nike we honor our heroes by nam- 
ing landmarks after them. Del Hayes 
Road winds around the outside of the 
campus, connecting all the buildings and 
employees, passing the Mia Hamm build- 
ing, the Tiger Woods and the Lance, with 
occasional zigzags and bumps, out into 
the rest of the world. 


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TRUMP THIS 

The Donald sure can pick "em. Last year he gave PMOY 2005 Tiffany Fallon a chance on The Celebrity Apprentice, and this season he 
extended the invitation to another PMOY, 2001’s Brande Roderick. One of Brande's early tasks was selling cupcakes for charity. Hef 
dispatched Miss November 2001 Lindsey Vuolo to donate $5,000 from the Hugh M. Hefner Foundation to Brande's team. Sweet. 


HOT MAMA 

“Doctors pump 
drugs into preg- 
nant women, and 
these drugs affect 
the baby," Miss 
August 2001 Jenni- 
fer Walcott told us 
and Holistic Health 
Magazine, discuss- 
ing the natural 
birth of her beau- 
tiful and healthy 
son, Jett. *I didn't 
want to poison my 
baby." Jennifer is 
raising Jett organi- 
cally, staying away 
from store-bought 
formula. *I was 
adamant about 
breast-feeding, 
but my implants 
affected my milk 
ducts. I make my 
own organic raw- 
milk concoction 
with whey and other 
ingredients. It takes 
minutes and costs | А 
only $4 a day.” М | 


JULIE 
MCCULLOUGH 

Julie (left) grew up via Grow- 
ing Pains and became Miss 
February 
1986. Always 
the entertainer, 
she performs 
stand-up as 
the Funny 
Bunny.... Forty 
years ago we 
named Lor- 
rie Miss Feb- 
ruary 1969. 
That issue 
caught the eye 
of James Bond 
in On Her — 
Majesty's Secret Service. 


LORRIE MENCONI 


Victoria Silvstedt: My Perfect Life, a real- 


KNOW son wrote an open letter to Barack ity show based on our PMOY 1997,is passed away in the fall. We dearly 
Obama to urge marijuana legalization. big in the U.K. and Australia. miss her disarming smile. 


Buying your girl то FAVORITE PLAYMATE 


a bra for Valen- 
tine's Day and nnn гт от 
Of) CLE 


don't know her 


cup size? PMOY —Emmy Award-winning actor 
2008 Jayde 
Nicole offers an 


Clapp 
appears 
on HBO's 
Taking 
Chance: 
“My favorite Play- 
mate is Miss March 
2002 Tina Jordan. I 
met her at the 2007 
Playboy Golf Scram- 
ble Championship 
when she was assigned 
to drive my golf cart. 
Despite my inability 
to focus on my golf 
game, it was the best 


round I’ve ever had 

Alban denen UT AND ABOUT WITH 

Miss May 2003 Laurie Fetter and Miss August 

2004 Pilar Lastra were invited by the Department 

of Defense to Fort Irwin in California. They took 

a tour of the base's mock Middle Eastern village 

and boosted the morale of the troops shipping 

out to Iraq and Afghanistan... Miss November 

974 Bebe Buell ran 

into Renée Zellweger 
at the premiere of Liv- 
ing Proof at New York 
City's Plaza Hotel. 


A cup is about the 
size of a lemon, Bs 
are oranges, and 
а С is in grape- 
fruit territory. If 
she has anything 
remotely resem- 
bling a melon, 
you are a very 
lucky man." 


Miss December 
1979 Candace Col- | 
lins received Barack 
Obama's John Han- | 
CRUSH GROOVE cock... Miss May 1996 | 
Shauna Sand dropped 
by TMZ to tell the staff they know more about her 
life than she does. Boss Harvey Levin happened to 
be dressed as a handsome magazine editor. 


Putting on Marvin Gaye to get your lover in the mood on Valentine's Day is 
ng roses—it lacks cre and rez n. Don't worry. International 
iss January 2004 Colleen Shannon has you covered. On her site she has 
bled a streaming playlist that features hot remixes of Estelle’s “Ami 

and Pink Floyd's *Wish You Were Here," as well as a mash-up of Oa: 


and Jay-Z. Log on to djcolleenshannon.com to turn her on. 


IDEAL VALENTINE'S 
NIGHT BY 
AMBER CAMPISI 


*End the date with a bub- 
ble bath and some wine. 
But remember, whatever 
you do, don't get too drunk 
before sex, because that's 
the best part of the night— 
and the next morning!" 


aly 
ns Chickipedia named PMOY 2004 Miss December 2001 na DID YOU ғә 

L.A. Temptations made the Lingerie Carmella Garcia (née DeCesare) Moakler has been spotted wearing 

Bowl playoffs this year. “the Hottest NFL Wife (or Girlfriend)" Travis Barker's wedding ring again. NOU 


SU CAN HAVE 88 


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OOS 


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THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


BY ROBERT G. KAISER 


ast fall the House of Representatives set off a stock- 
market collapse by voting against the first version of the 
bailout legislation, which had been hurriedly written to 
try to stabilize American banks and other financial institutions. 
Bailout supporters scrambled to change the legislation in ways 
that would win support from a majority of representatives. In 
a matter of days new provisions were added: an extension of 
an excise-tax rebate 
for makers of Virgin 
Islands and Puerto 
Rican rum (cost to 
the Treasury: $192 
million), an extension 
of a special tax break 
for owners of stock- 
car racing tracks 
(cost: $100 million), 
a tax break for mak- 
ers of movies within 
the borders of the 
United States (cost 
over 10 years: $478 
million) and more. 
These sweeteners—a 
revealing bit of Wash- 
ington jargon—did 
the trick: Days after 
rejecting the $700 
billion bailout, the 
House approved it. 
This dreary se- 
quence is evidence of 
a fact that careful stu- 
dents of Washington's 
ways have known for 
some time: By the first decade of the new millennium the 
government of the United States was broken. It took three 
decades to create the mess. Democrats and Republicans col- 
laborated in its creation, and as the sweetening of the bailout 
bill made clear, money was at the heart of the problem. 
Sweeteners were payoffs of a kind—spending proposals 
that would allow politicians who promoted them to boast 
of their influence in Washington, hoping to win votes in 
the process. Spending on the favored projects of senators 
and representatives had grown exponentially since Repub- 
licans took over Congress in 1994 and decided they could 
defend their majorities if their members brought home a 
lot of bacon. Hence the explosion of the legislative pro- 
visions called earmarks that John McCain assailed in his 
presidential campaign. 
But money became a dominant factor in more insidious 
ys. Over the past 30 years opinion polls, focus groups and 
television commercials became the most effective tools to 
win elections, and all of them are expensive. So are the con- 


sultants candidates hire to make their commercials, shape 
their campaigns, even choose the issues they run on. To win, 
a politician needed a lot of money. 

Money can elect someone to office who has never addressed 
important matters that affect ordinary Americans' lives. 
Money can elect candidates who have no real philosophy of 
governance or a coherent worldview. The result has been 

unreal politics—can- 
didates winning or 
losing office on the 
basis of their posi- 
tions on social issues 
essentially unrelated 
to governance. 

In today's Wash- 
ington, money builds 
bulwarks that defend 
the status quo even 
when political power 
changes hands after 
an election, A classic 
example is the loom- 
ing demographic 
crisis that threatens 
the two most impor- 
tant social programs 
in America, Social 
Security and Medi- 
care, which have 
provided protection 
for older Americans 
for decades. It's not a 
secret these programs 
are going broke; 
indeed, demogr 

phers and statisticians have been warning of the risks to both 
for more than 20 years. There is no avoiding the coming 
crunch that will shake American society to its foundations. Yet 
neither political party, nor any presidential administration, has 
confronted the problem. The players have been paralyzed. 

Not addressing problems has become easy in a political 
environment distorted by money. In these three decades when 
money became so important in Washington, Congress lost 
much ofits effectiveness as a governing institution. Running for 
reelection became more important than running the country 
or keeping an eye on the exercise of executive power—roles 
the founders envisioned for the House and Senate. 

The money needed to sustain this situation is raised from 
the interests and individuals for whom politicians can do 
favors of many kinds. The amount of money politicians raise 
for their c mpaigns increases inexorably every two years, 
and the earnings of Washington lobbyists climb in tandem. 
During these same three decades lobbying became Washing- 
ton's leading industry. "Partisan deadlock" became a cliché 


D 


па 


that, sadly, shared an attribute of many 
clichés: It was true. 

In simpler times, before jet planes made 
travel easy and political commercials 
defeated politicians, Washington worked 
better. Members of Congress knew one 
another personally. They worked collab- 
oratively across party lines. Most mem- 
bers of the House and Senate maintained 
their principal residences in Washington 
and visited their home states occasionally, 
not every weekend as most do today. Old 
institutions now long gone—including 
the Washington hostess and her offspring, 
the Washington dinner party—and the 
traveling delegation of senators making 
relatively relaxed visits around the world 
(often called junkets) thrived back the: 
"They provided natural lubricants for the 
legislative machinery. Many members had 
the time and inclination to master details 
of the subjects before them. 

Members of Congress getting along. 
and working together was called comity. 
Until Richard Nixon resigned as pre: 
dent, іп 1974, Washington had a lot of it. 
"Then things began to change. Not all the 
changes were for the worse, a point made 
forcefully by Fred Wertheimer, an agit 
tor for reforms to reduce the influence of 
money in Washington since the Nixon era. 
president of Common Cause, a c 
pro-reform group, for 14 years. He 
now runs his own organization, Democ- 
racy 21, funded mostly by foundations. He 
isa lobbyist for a nonpaying client: his own 
vision of a cleaner government. 

Wertheimer notes that since Nixon's 
resignation, Congress has removed 
many egregious forms of corruptio 
cash contributions to politicians (which 
once were as common as Capitol Hill 
spittoons), House and Senate member 
irect employment by corporations (as 
lawyers or advisors, for example), cash for 
speeches that went directly into members’ 
pockets (as “honoraria”) and unregulated 
“soft money” contributions from ind 
viduals, unions and corporations, which 


Lobbying, lobbying, earmarks. Blah, blah, blah. Not so fast, 
bro. There are real-life consequences to all this. Take the 


largely funded the 1996 and 2000 elec- 
tions before being banned in 2002. Wert- 
heimer, who has the optimism required of 
anyone engaged in a long-term crusade 
to improve human behavior, took heart 
from the substantial reforms enacted by 
the new Democratic Congress in 2007, 
noting provisions that banned nearly all 
forms of gifts to members from lobbyists 
and lobbying organizations—from dinner 
at a Washington restaurant to a Scotland 
golfing vacation of the kind that made the 


now imprisoned lobbyist Jack Abramoff 
a famous figure. "The biggest change 
made by the new rules is a cultural one," 
Wertheimer says, "making members pay 
their own way as opposed to the tradi- 
tional view that they were entitled to trips, 
meals, etc., paid for by others." If the cul- 
ture of freebies can be altered, he argues, 
so could other deleterious aspects of the 
Washington political culture. 

Barack Obama regularly denounced 
the realities of modern Washington in 
his campaign for president. He promised 
"a new politics" that would diminish the 
influence of lobbyists and special interest 
and produce a spirit of practical coopera- 
tion and bipartisanship. Now we will see 
what he can actually accomplish. 

The culture will change, as it always 
does with a new regime. It could really 
change for the better if the new Congress 


WHY IT MATTERS 


destroys the system that developed from 
the 1970s through today. There are ways 
to destroy it. Congress could provide for 
public financing—money from the Trea- 
sury—for all elections to federal offices, 
something it tried in the 1970s for presi- 
dential campaigns. That system worked 
until 1996, when Bill Clinton stretched it 
so far that it effectively broke down. This 
year Obama himself walked away from a 
pledge to use the system of public financ- 
ing when he realized he could raise a lot 
more moncy outside it. New laws could 
be passed to require broadcast television 
stations to provide free time to politi- 
cal candidates, a reform idea that has 
bounced around Washington for years. 

Lobbyists get much of their influence by 
helping representatives raise money. Con- 
gress could ban any registered lobbyist— 
and any institution that hir 
lobbyist—from raising, soliciti 
ing contributions to federal candidates 
and officeholders. A new law could also 
reduce to a nominal amount—say, $250 
or $500—the maximum a lobbyist could 
personally give to a campaign for federal 
office. These changes would take special 
interests out of the game. 

New rules could also restrict the move- 
ment of officials from government jobs to 
lobbying careers—something that became 
commonplace during the past 30 years. 
Lobbyists could be required to report pub- 
licly on every meeting and conversation 
they hold with an official. History confirms 
that moral behavior cannot be enforced by 
sing laws, but laws can certainly make 
immorality a lot more difficult. 

But to pass such reforms would upend 
the culture that has grown strong in mod- 
ern times. It would require the Democrats 
who now dominate Washington to turn on 
the methods and mores that restored them 
to power in 2008. How likely is that? 


Robert G. 
Money: 
C 


Kaiser is author of So Damn Much 
he Triumph of Lobbying and the 
osion of American Government. 


ing the Clinton administration but failed after first lady Hill- 
ary Clinton publicly criticized it. Then in 2001, after Clinton 


Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer 
Protection Act of 2005. This law made it im- 
possible for ordinary people to get out from 


under credit card debt via bankruptcy. As 
Stanford law professor Lawrence Lessig has 
pointed out, normal folks are thus yoked to 
their debts even as corporations such as Beth- 
lehem Steel can escape their pension obliga- 
tions. Yeah, that's fair. Interesting thing about 
that law: The proposal was first put forth dur- 


had been elected to the Senate, she supported 
the reintroduced bill, which eventually passed, 
What had changed in the interim to make her 
cool with it? Well, there was the little matter 
of her having received almost $210,000 in 
campaign money from credit card and finan- 
cial services companies. Hmmm. You can draw 
your own conclusions. Just be careful not to 
draw too much on your credit card, because 
that’s for life. And that’s why it matters. 


FORUM 


FREEDOM TAX 


LIBERTY CANNOT FLOURISH IN A LOPSIDED SOCIETY. JUST ASK TEDDY 


ith Barack Obama's inauguration in late January, 
redistribution and other buzzwords hurled at the 
Democratic candidate along the campaign trail are 
once again topics for arguments in bars and dorms and will re- 
sult in letters to our office asking why Obama's victory pleased 
us. You know what? It's a debate we're happy to revisit. It gives 
us a chance to break down exactly why politics is so important. 
We hold this truth to be self-evident: Government's role 
should be to focus on economic activities, not personal ones. We 
find it ironic—and maddening—that adherents of the political 
right who deem it utterly anathema for government to intervene 
in any economic affairs feel comfortable advocating government 
intervention in our most intimate personal matters. In fact, it 
seems to us that their approach to government is completely 
backward—not to mention completely at odds with this coun- 
try's founding documents, which were designed to keep private 
life (most significantly, religious beliefs) out of the public sphere. 
Okay, you say, maybe this is just a difference of opinion. Not 
a we're concerned. Our 
entire history—Hefs fight to 
publish the magazine now in 
your hands, his fending off 
attempts to prosecute him for 
obscenity, his remaining stead- 
fast in the face of the vitriol 
aimed at him for champion- 
ing sexual freedoms—has been 
spent defending this position. 
But let's go one step further 
and wade into how the govern- 
ment should intervene in eco- 
nomic affairs, since Obama's 
election suggests a majority 
of Americans agree with us 
on where government should 
focus its attention. The richest 
10 percent of Americans con- 
trol more than 70 percent of 
our nation's net wealth, a por- 
tion that has been increasing 
for decades as President Ron- 
ald Reagan and subsequent leaders reduced various tax rates 
on the wealthy while simultaneously reducing corporate 
taxes. Since government spending as a percentage of GDP is 
relatively stable (and has, in fact, increased under conserva- 
tive administrations), guess who pays that bill if taxes on the 
rich and corporations are reduced. You. Us. The tax burden 
has simply been shifting down the income scale, and it's hap- 
pening under the rhetorical banner of lowering taxes 
Moral considerations aside, rising inequality and the economic 
policies that accelerate it facilitate extremism, bringing not only 
the outside risk of totalitarianism but, more realistically, creeping 
incursions against basic liberties. Great disparity in wealth can 
create political and social violence, crime and instability—or at 


least the fear of these things. We've seen how similar fears have 
been manipulated in the past eight years to roll back civil liber- 
ties. Barry Goldwater, the godfather of modern American con- 
servatism, used to say extremism in the defense of liberty was no 


By Tim Mohr 


vice. But he had it wrong: Extremism is the enemy of liberty. 

The pooling of wealth at the top also limits the fulfillment 
of our American dream, stifling opportunity, limiting upward 
mobility (which aids social cohesion) and putting the lie to the 
rhetoric of meritocracy. During the presidential campaign John 
McCain made frequent mention of his admiration for Theodore 
Roosevelt, the turn-of-the-century Republican president. It's 
worth looking at Roosevelt's comments on the topic of wealth 
distribution, such as this one, from his 1907 State of the Union 
address: "There should be an equality of self-respect and of mu- 
tual respect, an equality of rights before the law and at least an 
approximate equality in the conditions under which each man 
obtains the chance to show the stuff that is in him when compared 
to his fellows.” What is he talking about? In modern terminology 
it's meritocracy—creating if not a level playing field, at least some 
level of parity so every American can succeed or fail based on his 
or her drive and ideas, not his or her access to a trust fund. It's 
telling that advocates of lowering income taxes on the wealthy also 
oppose inheritance tax. A true 
advocate of meritocracy would, 
of course, favor a 100 percent 
inheritance tax, since merit by 
definition cannot be passed 
down from one generation to 
the next; merit is the measure of 
an individual, not a legacy. 

Taxation represents not only 
a brake on the forces that can 
lead to extremism but also the 
recognition that wealth cannot 
be accumulated in a vacuum. 
As Roosevelt, again, said in 
1906 speech, "The man of 
t wealth owes a peculiar 
obligation to the state because 
he derives special advantages 
from the mere existence of 
government. Not only should 
he recognize this obligation in 
the way he leads his daily life 
and in the way he earns and 
spends his money, but it should also be recognized by the way 
in which he pays for the protection the state gives him.” 

Anti-tax advocates espouse a sort of blind utopianism. Greed 
and self-interest are presented as positives in that they make for 
an ostensibly rational market; the blindness is the assumption 
that greed and self-interest will stop at boundaries of law or 
morality. If we've learned anything from the history of finan- 
cial bubbles, Enron accounting schemes, disappearing pension 
funds, S&L and bank failures, tax evasion and offshore wealth 
stashing, etc., it’s the unambiguous lesson that greed and self- 
interest have no limits—which is precisely why hoping for the 
best is not a tenable solution to governing. 

The policy ideas for which Obama is labeled a redistributor 
represent a reality-based approach to governing. Only by 
reversing the extreme and ever-increasing polarization of 
wealth can we ensure a future of broad-based prosperity and 
thus a future where liberty can likewise flourish. 


118 


READER RESPONSE 


AN HONEST DISCUSSION OF RACE? 

If I, a white guy, had penned the words 
"History has demonstrated that...only 
when black and white folk work together 
to confront challenges in our society can 
significant change happen," would I be 
patriarchal or racist ("Welcome to Post- 
Racial America," November)? Might I be 
suggesting significant change can come 
about only if whites help blacks make it 
happen or if whites allow blacks the chance 
to change? Rosa Parks, Bobby Scale and 
Frederick Douglass, to name a few, might 
be offended. I am not surprised Tavis Sn 
ley doesn't want to see the national con- 
versation on race garner less of the 
limelight, since he is so vested in that con- 
versation. But what amazes me is how 
Smiley can diminish the biggest thing to 
happen to black America—and to Amer- 
ica—in 30 years because it is not the final 
solution to all of America's race-relations 


Readers call Tavis Smiley hypersensitive. 


problems. Smiley says many Americans 
thought the Obama candidacy would 
"close the painful chapter on racism." 
Please. Racism will never be completely 
extinguished. But much to Smiley's cha- 
grin, the issue of white intolerance of 
blacks carries a lot less weight as a subject. 
for books, radio and TV programs, and 
Forum essays when the most powerful man 
in the world, who has been elected to that 
position with votes from millions upon 
millions of white folks, is a black man. 
Don Holmes 
Arlington, Virginia 


Smiley's article is typical of the hyper- 
sensitive whining of most black pseudo- 
intellectuals (pseudo via affirmative 
action). Smiley claims the recent column 
by Pat Buchanan is racist and patriar- 
chal. Buchanan enumerates historical 


Obama received millions of white votes. 


facts about blacks. Add the fact that 
blacks in the U.S. have the highest stan- 
dard of living of blacks anywhere. Does 
this warrant white guilt? How can facts 
be racist and truth patriarchal? Appar- 
ently, anyone who doesn't pander to 
blacks gets labeled racist. Black 
pseudointellectuals are afraid of an hon- 
est discussion of race. Smiley will always 
be dissatisfied; he's a professional black. 
John Matolyak 
Indiana, Pennsylvania 


I find it interesting that in the same 
paragraph in which Smiley bemoans our 
need for “meaningful public discourse 
on race and racism,” he dismisses out of 
hand Buchanan's statements as “racist 
and patriarchal.” Guess what—plenty of 
Americans share Buchanan's views on 
the subject, which were in no way derog- 
atory or racist but rather statements of 
fact. So if Smiley desires a meaningful 
discussion of race, he had better acknowl- 
edge such sentiments or we'll never get 
anywhere in this country. It's exactly this 
knee-jerk tendency of the racial- 
grievance lobby to lash out at all but the 
most sanctimonious, condescending dis- 
cussions of race from white people that 
prevents any real discussion from taking 
place. Why would anyone want to share 
their actual feelings if they'll just be 
shouted down and labeled a racist? Bet- 
ter to have a true "meaningful" discus- 
sion—as uncomfortable as it may be for 
many to talk about crime rates, illegiti- 
macy and the insidious worship of gang- 
sta culture in the black community—than 
simply to force people to shove politically 
incorrect thoughts aside. 

Sammy McGee 
San Francisco, California 

We feel compelled to address the Pal 

Buchanan column “A Brief for White) 


defended by more than these two readers. 

Buchanan does indeed note many specifics in 
his piece, but they are hardly “statements of 
fact.” For instance, Buchanan writes, 
"Untold trillions have been spent since the 
1960s on welfare, food stamps, rent supple- 
ments, Section 8 housing, Pell grants, student 
loans, legal services, Medicaid, Earned 
Income Tax Credits and poverty programs 
designed to bring the African American com- 
munity into the mainstream." Take Section 8 
housing: That assistance program dates to 
the Depression era, not the civil rights era. И 
also does not target any specific group for 
enhanced assistance. The same is true of all 
the programs Buchanan lists. Yes, welfare has 
been used as a code word for government pro- 
grams benefiting blachs at least since Ronald 
Reagan's infamous (and, it goes without say- 
ing, completely fabricated) anecdote—used 
repeatedly during his 1980 campaign—about 
a Cadillac-driving welfare queen. But the 
majority of welfare recipients are white—and 
that is a statement of fact. Another example of 
Buchanan's dishonest so-called facts: “Black 
criminals choose white victims 45 percent of 
the time,” he writes, without adding that 
whites make up 80 percent of the population, 
meaning black criminals choose while victims 
about half as frequently as would be the case 
were the perpetrators to choose their victims 
at random. Buchanan's ultimate argument is 
“America has been the best country on earth 
for black follis." This too rubs us the wrong 
way. That Buchanan sees fit to compare the 
living standards of a subset of Americans 
with those of Africans (we assume) rather 


Pat Buchanan’s facts are faulty. 


than of fellow Americans should tell you 
everything you need to know about his moti- 
vations. For Pat Buchanan, skin color trumps 
nationalily. And it's difficult to think of any- 
thing more unambiguously racist than that. 


E-mail via the web at letters.playboy.com. Or 
write: 730 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10019. 


Getting Behind Change 


WASHINGTON, D,c.—Showing a dramatic rise 
in support, 104 former generals and ad- 
mirals signed a statement in favor of get- 
ting rid of the military's "don't ask, don't 
tell" position regarding gays. (The previous 
year, just 28 signed a similar statement.) 
Since the policy was established in 1994, 
the armed forces have booted more than 
12,000 servicemen and -women based on 
their sexuality. The former military leaders 
cited soldiers' professionalism and urged 
the U.S. to join the U.K., Israel and other 
Western countries in allowing gays to serve 
uncloseted. One signatory, retired admiral 
Charles Larson, explained, “| know a lot of 
young people now—even people in the area 
of having commands of ships and squad- 
rons—and they are much more tolerant. 
And they believe, as | do, that we have 
enough regulations on the books to enforce 
proper standards of human behavior." We 


FORUM 


NEWSFRONT 


have always been confounded by the sug- 
gestion that a fellow countryman's sex hab- 
its could threaten people who stare down 
death as part of their routine duties. 


iNarc 


ABERDEEN, U.K.—Scottish police tested a por- 
table machine able to detect cocaine, can- 
nabis, heroin and ecstasy from a swab of a 
person's hand. — 
Ominously, | 

all 753 people | | 
asked to submit | 

to the test out- | 

side pubs and 

clubs agreed to 
be swabbed, 


Power Up 


WASHINGTON, D.c.—With the inauguration 
on our minds, an essay by David Calleo in 
World Policy Journal caught our eye: "Heavy 


Homeland Insecurity 


WASHINGTON, D.c.—In May 2007 we wrote 
about subversion of the Posse Comitatus 
Act, a law that prohibits the federal gov- 
ernment from using the military to police 
citizens. It may have seemed alarmist to 
some, but last fall Army Times reported 
the unthinkable had come to pass: A unit 
attached to the Army's Northern Com- 
mand is training for domestic operations 
and "may be called upon to help with civil 
unrest and crowd control." (The Army 
has since denied this and insists the force 
would respond only to disasters.) The 
unit, the 3rd Infantry Division's 1st Bri- 
gade Combat Team, will be on call for one 
year, through October 2009, but "expec- 
tations are that another, as yet unnamed, 
active-duty brigade will take over and that 
the mission will be a permanent one." In 
an interview on Democracy Now, Colo- 
nel Michael Boatner of USNORTHCOM 
explained how the unit would deploy, 
saying, "They ultimately have weapons, 
heavy weapons, combat vehicles and 
other service capabilities, including tech- 
nical life-saving support, at their home 
station at Fort Stewart, Georgia, but they 
wouldn't bring that stuff with them. In 
fact, they're prohibited from bringing it. 
They would bring their individual weap- 
ons, which is the standard policy for de- 
ployments in the homeland. Those would 
be centralized and containerized, and they 
could only be issued to the soldiers with 
the secretary of defense's permission.” 


military spending helps explain America's 
frequent macroeconomic indiscipline and 
what has now become a perpetual need for 
subsidy from the rest of the world. The ca- 
pacity to attract these subsidies from others 
depends on America’s geopolitical power in 
general and on the global role of the dollar 
in particular. In other words, continuing to 
sustain the power of the U.S. government 
abroad now seems essential for meeting the 
increasingly insistent demands of America’s 
overstretched есопоту..., The need to con- 
tinue to build and exert global power greatly 
affects America’s internal constitutional bal- 
ance. In particular, it enhances presidential 
power. Conversely, sustaining outsize presi- 
dential power will rely, in turn, on maintain- 
ing an overbearing prominence for security 
and foreign policy issues in American politics. 
In other words, there will continue to exist 
for America a domestic symbiosis between 
world hegemony and presidential primacy.” 


118 


E 
GRAPE MINE 


Y Be Gentle, 
3 2%” Liz. Рау 
Attention 
to What 
You're 
Doing and 
Don't Just 
Yank It 
Up and 
Down Like 
It's Some 
Bloody 
Big Light 
S 


у 
big light swi 
Then you 
yank all you 
want. Look! 
LIZ HURLEY’ 
panties! 


A Valentine's Day Gift Idea 

Here's MASUIMI MAX incorrectly applying the Confetti 
Pink lip gloss from her I Am Trouble cosmetics line. 

Visit iamtrouble.com for more shades—and more Masuimi. 


The More 

Things Change... 

You saw MISCHA BARTON in 
this space last month—and let 
us tell you, it's no small feat to 
make it into consecutive Grape- 
vines. On top of that, she's in 
both the last black-and-white 
Grapevine and the first color 
Grapevine. Oh yeah, welcome 
to the first color Grapevine! 


Saw It Here First 
The hot look for sprint 


otted on the runways dur- 
ing New York's Fashion 


clothing that is part see- 


Another Valentine's Day Gift Idea 
No idle hands here. When not shooting for Playboy Special Editions 
and the Club, CARLOTTA CHAMPAGNE ¡s known to make 
handbags, belts, prom dresses and garter belts (pictured) out of 
condoms. See more of her crafts at carlyscondomnation.com. 


See club.playboy.com 
for full galleries of 
Masuimi and Carlotta. 


Fahrvergbooben 
SALMA HAYEK had to don a snug dirndl after losing a bet 
on the German TV show Wetten, Dass..? ("Wanna Bet?"). 
We're guessing the wardrobe department didn't know the 
bodacious-anyway Hayek was still breast-feeding, We'll 
also go ahead and guess Karl Lagerfeld is supercreepy. 


Put the Nipple on the Rekkid 


It's Not Me, It's You, the second album from cheeky British pop sing 
LILY ALLEN, is due in stores on February 10. The publicity campaign will 
likely include concerts, TV appearances and a whole lot of this sort of thing. 


е 


121 


N 


IT'S A BEAUTIFUL O'DAY. 


SEX AND MUSIC ISSUE—WE CELEBRATE TWO OF LIFE'S MOST 
PRIMAL PLEASURES NEXT MONTH, BEGINNING WITH COVER 
MODEL AUBREY O'DAY. HER SEXUALITY WAS STIFLED WHEN 
SHE WAS PART OF DIDDY'S GIRL GROUP DANITY KANE, BUT 
NOW O'DAY IS LIBERATED AND READY TO REVEAL HER TRUE 
SELF IN A SHOWSTOPPING PICTORIAL. 


PLAYBOY'S 2009 PLAYLIST—OUR MUSIC BLOWOUT FEATURES 
LILY ALLEN TALKING DIRTY, OUR RANKING OF THE SEXIEST 
MUSIC VIDEOS OF THE YEAR, PLAYBOY T-SHIRT DESIGNS BY 
THE COOLEST BANDS ON THE PLANET AND THE RESULTS OF 
YOUR VOTING IN THE PLAYBOY MUSIC POLL. 


SEXIEST CELEBRITIES-THESE HOLLYWOOD STARLETS ARE 
STAPLES OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S FAVORITE BLOGS AND YOUR 
FANTASIES. ELISHA CUTHBERT, JESSICA BIEL AND CHRISTINA 
AGUILERA BRING THE HEAT IN A SIZZLING PICTORIAL. 


ROCK THE RABBIT-OUR ANNUAL MUSIC-FASHION FESTI- 
VAL IS HEADLINED BY MOTLEY CRUE, MGMT, PHARRELL AND 
OTHER SPECIAL GUESTS. 


MY BROTHER, TED—THAT'S WHAT DAVID KACZYNSKI CALLS 
HIM, THOUGH YOU KNOW THE SAME PERSON AS THE UNA- 
BOMBER. HIS SIBLING DELIVERS HIS OWN MANIFESTO ON 
WHAT MAKES THE GIFTED BUT TROUBLED TED TICK. 


THE OTHER GIRL NEXT DOOR. 


HIPHOPOPOTAMUS AND RHYMENOCEROUS DISH. 


KENNY CHESNEY—ELEVEN GOLD ALBUMS, 15 NUMBER ONE 
HITS, 86 AWARD NOMINATIONS, A QUICKIE HOLLYWOOD 
MARRIAGE: WHAT HASN'T THIS GUY DONE? THE /NTERVIEW. 


BOOM CAR BOOM—IN SOME CAR COMMUNITIES IT ISN'T HOW 
MUCH HORSEPOWER YOU HAVE UNDER THE HOOD BUT HOW 
MANY AMPS ARE PUMPING THE HIGH-FIDELITY JUNK IN YOUR 
TRUNK. GEORGE PROCHNIK GOES TO A COMPETITION THAT 
ROUTINELY BLOWS OUT WINDOWS. 


FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS—BRET MCKENZIE AND JEMAINE 
CLEMENT HAVE AN HBO SHOW, A GRAMMY AND A GROUPIE. 
THEY SIT DOWN FOR 200 TO DISCUSS BEING "NEW ZEA- 
LAND'S FOURTH MOST POPULAR GUITAR-BASED DIGI-BONGO 
ACAPELLA-RAP-FUNK-COMEDY FOLK DUO." 


THE FASTEST WHITE WOMAN IN THE WORLD—WE'RE ALL 
OBSESSED WITH SOMETHING. IN JIM HARRISON'S VERSE THE 
NARRATORIS INTRIGUED BY A WOMAN AND HER COMPULSION 
TO RUN. BUT ARE WE ALL JUST SPINNING OUR WHEELS? 


PLUS: THE SECOND-BEST THING TO PUT ON YOUR LAP—A 
COMPUTER; IN THIS MOMENT'S FRONTWOMAN, MARIA BRINK, 
HAS A ROCKIN' BOD; MISS MARCH JENNIFER PERSHING IS THE 
PERFECT PLAYMATE FOR OUR MUSIC ISSUE—SHE HAS BEEN 
TO 29 DAVE MATTHEWS SHOWS. 


Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), February 2009, volume 36, number 2. Published monthly by Playboy in national and regional editions, Playboy, 680 

North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Periodicals postage paid at Chicago, Illinois and at additional mailing offices. Canada Post Cana- 

dian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement No. 40035534. Subscriptions: in the U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. Postmaster: Send address change to 
122 Playboy, PO. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. For subscription-related questions, call 800-999-4438, or e-mail circ@ny.playboy.com. 


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