Sending Playboy my resume...

(I'm only posting this here so I can email them the pictures!)

Dear Playboy Radio Morning Show Crew (Kevin, Andrea and Manchild)

My name is Militant Ginger – I’ve been lucky enough to be mentioned on your show once (because I used to own Governor McGreevey’s Lincoln Town Car – the one he had the mucky threesomes in the back of.) I listen every day – but because I’m on the East Coast, I only get to hear the repeats. El suck.

McGreevey’s Lincoln can now be seen daily at ‘Ken’s Autobody and Scrap,’ Piscataway, NJ

Anyway. I wanted to reach out to you with my resume – as Hugh Hefner’s replacement.

It strikes me that Hef probably only has another forty or fifty years doing what he does before he decides to move onto new projects (I’m guessing televangelism.) Following his departure, it strikes me that the mantle of ‘World’s Greatest Gentleman Playboy’ would pass into obscurity forever unless a new champion was found and I’d like to suggest myself for that role (in forty or fifty years, I’ll be exactly the right age.)

Hugh Hefner – World’s Greatest Playboy – with 40 or 50 of his closest girlfriends

Now, I know I might not seem like a logical choice – I’m British, married, suburban and very unlikely to be mistaken for Brad Pitt in a lineup – but I believe what I lack in good looks/charm/applicable talents I more than make up for in ambition and planning. Besides, I wasn’t always a sweater-wearing dad. Back in the day, I used to be quite the Playboy myself!

Militant Ginger during my Playboy days…

In my favor, I do have the following:

• A suave British accent and a knowledge of fine boxed wines
• An impeccable sense of style (if we were still living in the 1970s)
• Distinctive ginger hair, making me easy to spot in a crowd of bunnies
• A valid green card
  

I will also bring with me my beautiful wife, who I believe is Bunny-worthy herself and has more than an academic interest in centerfolds, plus my adorable son, who is anxious to start his career with the Playboy empire even though he’s only nine months old.

He can start by answering the phone. He’s grown very adept at hanging up on his grandmother and has mastered the phrase: “Bububububu” (with a raspberry at the end) which makes him at roughly at the same level as your regular called 'Cookie Monster.'

My Bunnylicious wife, suave son and a random picture of the Cookie Monster

As far as for what I could bring to the Playboy empire itself… Well, here my suggestion:

In order to shield Playboy from the economic crisis and the decline of the print media industry, I would pioneer a branch out into one of great industries from Hugh Hefner’s time – supervillainry. (Yes, I know that isn’t a real word.)

I believe the Playboy Mansion would make an excellent Evil Lair. Bond villains and evil masterminds typically fill their hideouts with beautiful women, so we’ve already got that covered. The rest could be filled in with just the following few improvements:

• Fill the grotto with man-eating sharks with lasers attached to their heads.
• Add a ‘No Swimming’ sign to the grotto.
• Add two or three underground nuclear missile silos on the East lawn.
  

In many ways, the Playboy Mansion would be an improvement on secret Evil Lairs of the past, as the Playboy Mansion’s actually in the phone-book, which makes taking delivery of hijacked nuclear warheads, kidnapped secret agents and man-eating shark chow that much easier. Plus pizza.

Man-eating Shark with lasers attached to their heads – an essential for the Playboy Grotto

I hope you will seriously consider my application as Hugh Hefner’s replacement. I already have a pair of silk pajamas on order and those things don’t come cheap, you know! I look forward to meeting you all when I move into the mansion.

With warmest regards – and many thanks for your entertaining show.

Militant Ginger