Hef Dodges The Baby-Oil Yeast Infection Issue

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America’s most famous dirty old man dismisses the lurid tell-all Bunny Tales as “self-serving semi-fiction” and talks Viagra, curfews, condoms and allowances.

In Hef’s interview with the Daily Beast’s Lloyd Grove, he dismisses Bunny Tales author Izabella St. James (“and her name is not St. James; her name is Polish, it’s Kasprzyk”), she of the baby-oil-drenched, dog shit-littered memoir — as a minor member of the harem whom he had to kick out because she was a bitch to “some of the nicer girls” and who’s “been trying to come back ever since.”

Otherwise, though, he’s expansive — forthcoming, even! — discussing Bunny Tales’ charges of STDs and unprotected sex, um, frankly.

Nobody in the group had sexually transmitted diseases. I was very careful and very concerned about taking care of everybody in terms of sexually transmitted disease. Absolutely there was testing. One of the things that can be pointed out is that over all the years of extensive sexual activity, nobody ever got pregnant, and nobody was having any serious problems with diseases. The only time anybody ever got pregnant in a relationship with me was the two times I was married.

No word on the charges of rampant baby oil-related yeasties, but he seems to indirectly confirm that condoms were non grata, saying, “I think one of the ways that you resolve that problem is to have sex with people who don’t have sexually transmitted diseases.”

Oh, and did he infantalize the girls with curfews and allowances? Yes and yes.

That part is true. If you write it and make it sound sleazy, that’s easy to do. But the girls got a clothing allowance… [the curfew] was also true-and widely publicized. It wasn’t a big secret….So they wouldn’t be running around on me!

But now he’s found true love, although “obviously, I could have a richer variety of sex if I wasn’t going to get married. The strange reality is that I’m more of a target today than probably at any other time in my life in terms of attention from young women.” Hm, indeed. But he was willing to sacrifice this Satyricon-level bounty for The One.

The truth of the matter is we’re soulmates. We get on very well. The age disparity really does not make a great deal of difference. If you are healthy, age is by and large a number. You don’t know when you’re going to die. The first girl I had a crush on in high school, who is still a close friend, Betty Conklin, married the fellow she loved and within the next handful of years he was killed in a car accident. You don’t really know-and how many marriages last more than a few years? … Marriage certainly wasn’t a part of my plan. I think it was Woody Allen who said that marriage is the death of hope. And my own experience of marriage led to believe that it didn’t fuel romance. And romantic love is what it’s really all about for me.

When you start quoting Woody Allen on you marriage in some obscure effort to tell the world it’s not creepy, further commentary seems unnecessary.

Getting A Rise Out of Hef [Daily Beast]

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