But there’s a catch…
If I win the 800M Powerball tonight, you’re all invited.
Billy can be the guest of honor.
I’d get the hazmat teams in there with a black light before I started having company over.
I had assumed the catch was that it included the herpes pool!
For Democrats that is a feature not a bug.
Cowabunga! You can only catch herpeses once.
I place my bets on a Saudi prince purchasing the estate. Or perhaps an Iranian oil magnate to better the Saudis. *smirk*
Could be. I hear the place is pretty rundown now. Everything dates to the 70’s.
That’s what the Bunny said!
Even those crusty stains on the pool deck and bedroom shag carpets?
What about the stalactites in the pools grotto?
The seventies were a great decade for fashion and interior design.
It’s minus twenty five outside and I could really use a pair of moon boots right now.
In that weather in Ottawa the fashion for young men was Adidas Roms.
The ’70’s is the last time blood went to his dick.
Free online porn
Killed the magazine star!
Excellent Buggles reference. 🙂
there is ???
So I’ve heard. From friends. I mean… overheard on the subway. In Montreal.
Does anybody here remember ASCII porn?
I get turned on when someone tells me A = 65! 🙂
Porn drives technology.
We can credit the Renaissance with the origins of pornography. Well, really of course the printing press, the biggest technological innovation preceding the Internet.
They used to carve their porn from marble or chip it from stone or etched in clay long before the Renaissance.
Ah, yes, sculpture. That’s one valid interpretation I suppose.
Could Litho’d inflatable “partners” be considered a niche form of interactive pornography?
Always did, probably always will. The very first printed bibles off that old Gutenberg press contained some very naughty illustrations.
As Johnny Carson would say, I did not know that.
May a desert weirdo lower his figs into your mother’s soup.
The password to gay porn was C : enter (See colon enter)
I would turn it into monastery.
Maybe cute young bunnies could visit the monks in that case?
It kinda was.
Ha ha ha ha ha! One of the best comments I’ve read on BCF in a while. 🙂
In ancient Rome it was Roman Emperor Caligula in order to gratify his unquenchable lustful desires used the woman in the all female monasteries (to the pagan goddess Athena) as his personal sex servants. Also his primary competitor Penthouse magazine helped fund and produce the 1979 movie Caligula about the life and times of that Roman Emperor. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16oTlXL5E0c
Back in the 70s..
Hefner…..Hefner? Oh you mean the guy with the tit magazine.
Was the famous first issue Marilyn Monroe centerfold included?
That is a pretty high balcony on the left.
Not a monastery…no.
I’d make it a home for indigent ex playmates and bunnies……girls who lusted after the champagne wishes and caviar dreams of their youth….who tried to catch the brass ring and failed…..who saw bunnydom as an enchanted step up to the sound stage in Hollywood and who knows perhaps the Oscars.
Girls now with dreams dashed and heels permanently rounded….their vaginas leathery and cracked….their bubble butts become horripilating raddled saddlebags…..their bosoms become as burnt Belgian waffles.(?)….sinuses ravaged by cocaine…loins clasped now only by Depends…
And I would minister to them…..a grizzly old feller with the heart of a Ma Theresa…..help them finish their high school….teach them simple homemaker arts and crafts….embroidery and such….
‘Dear dead women, with such hair, too—what’s become of all the gold
Used to hang and brush their bosoms? I feel chilly and grown old.’
It is hard to imagine how beautiful young girls would ride the viagra pumped dick of a wrinkled old pervert –for money and fame.
My daughter just sent me a pic, shot from behind– as my 1 year old Granddaughter looks out the window at her Daddy shovelling snow off the driveway. She is waving and he is smiling.
Hollywood and celebrities are rather notorious for that kind of creepiness. Jimmy Savile and Gary Glitter (Real name Paul Gadd) were two notorious examples.
Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion Squalid House of Horror
“Hefner’s bedroom reeked of dog urine and feces.”
“But he just lay there like a dead fish.”
Doubt that stopped their legs from snapping open when he snapped his fingers though.
Like vultures on road kill.
that was gross— ))))))))))))))))0
Like stink on the. monkey
We’d sit around at night….rouse the founder from his bed and gather around the fire…all drinking cocoa and nibbling on digestives(for the roughage)….the gals working on their needlepoint….Hef and I playing pinochle at penny a point….until it was time for Hefs viagra and beddy bye…..we’d draw straws to see who tucks him in and attaches the nocturnal mensurator….Hef insists on a paper record of his occasional tumescences.
It’s got all the poignancy of Brideshead Revisited doesn’t it…
I was thinking Addams family.
So much for romantic spontaneity—-
Dwight always has a song for the occasion:
-not Dwight again—–
May the Saints preserve me.
You shits….here I’m talkin regeneration and rebirth….annunciations and soiled doves become angels ferkrissake and youse bums turn it into Marat Sade.
I get it. Maybe we are just not ready for the Glorious rebirth. ))))
You know those calls from companies that want to clean your ducts? I have a feeling whoever buys this pile is going to want to clean a lot more than ducts. We once bought a house from two 30-ish bachelor brothers who had inherited it a decade earlier. What we found when we finally moved in could fill a book! Ever since then, I always keep lots of new rubber gloves in my tool shed. You never know when you might have to clean up something disgusting…….
I think this hovel could do with a thermite or napalm cleansing.
duct cleaning SOB’s … ‘tell them you have a wood stove and candles
Sounds like Playboy is as threadbare and decrepit as its illustrious founder…
Okay, here’s a thing. Cosby was “America’s Dad” and all that, right? And he was hanging around the Playboy Mansion? What did people think he was doing there, wearing sweaters and eating Jello?
I’m no prude. Actually I’m I think I’m of coming at this from the opposite angle (or something). I just think we should all admit that a whorehouse is a whorehouse. The United States is the only country I’ve ever loved, so perhaps people will forgive me if I point out that America has always had a reputation for naivite in certain weird ways. Apparently it’s escaped everyone’s notice that every celebrity who spent time at the “Playboy Mansion” was hanging out at a brothel with a bunch of hookers. And not a classy brothel. And not classy hookers.
Am I the only person who finds stuff like this weird?
You are hardly alone. Just my cursory reading on that mansion and its history and how it operated leads me to that same conclusion.
A high-end whorehouse is still a whorehouse, even if it rolls out a magazine and is visited/endorsed by celebrities.
Is Bill Cosby the realtor running handling the sale? I digress
But how much for the biohazard cleanup?