Greetings all Playboy fans, article nerds, and porno hounds alike. It is with a heavy heart that I, Hugh Hefner, present the final Playboy magazine that will include photos of nude women.
I know, I know, you porno hounds especially are very upset about this, but here we are anyway. After this last issue of nudes-included Playboy, no woman will ever be nude again. We here at Playboy invented female nudity and now we have made the not unchallenging decision to terminate it after the end of this issue’s run on newsstands. From then on, all women will be required to don Permanent Clothes.
First off, for those interested in how Permanent Clothes will work, don’t worry, I’ve put a lot of of thought into this: At the end of the month, when the next and first nudes-less Playboy is released, all women will glue on a pair of Permanent Clothes. Permanent Clothes are a lot like underwear — strips of cloth that cover the breasts, vagina, buttcheeks, and complete buttcrack — only they can’t be taken off. Because of the glue. And for all you amateur human rights investigators out there, I assure you this is perfectly ethical and also officially the law now, at least as I understand it. After all, female nakedness is Playboy’s thing and we can allow or disallow it at our whim and fancy.
Some of you might be asking, why now? Playboy has given us so many great nude women pictures, why stop the nude-train when it’s already picked up so much steam?
In 1953, Playboy ushered in a seminal publication that strived to give America’s gentleman equal doses of culture, analysis, and affable titillation. The latter being a sort of project, a social experiment if you will, to see if we could show every female body part completely naked. And after showing the left butt cheek of last week’s featured Playmate, that last female body part not to be shown nude, I’m both proud and relieved to finally report, we’ve shown ‘em all!
So we accomplished what we set out to do and now it’s over. Turn the page.
What’s next for Playboy and Hugh Hefner? Well, for Playboy, I have complete trust and admiration for current CEO Scott Flanders and I believe he will lead the magazine in the right direction. As for me, I plan to finally take off my signature silk pajamas, lay down in the middle of the Playboy Mansion’s gigantic entrance hall, and calmly wait for the flooring company who I hired to carpet my floor to “carpet me in” to the Playboy Mansion once and for all, permanently sealing me against the floor of sex party Valhalla. For it has always been my dream, after building all that I have built, to rest underfoot of Hollywood’s elite as they socialize, schmooze, and party-hardy amidst my own sexy empire.
Before I forget, I’m legally required to explain more about Permanent Clothes. If you’re worried about how women will pee, b.m., have sex, or breast feed, that will be fixed with a series of tubes.
Now back to my plans to permanently carpet myself into the Playboy Mansion. It’s the perfect burial! I’m tired and ready to die but I don’t want to miss out on any of the great and sexy times being had at my mansion. This way I can be there, feel the weight of celebrity as it enters and exits, all while lying down, cozy and warm under two-and-a-half inches of the finest, most luxurious wool shag carpeting on the market.
People say I’m crazy for wanting this. Well, people also said I was crazy for wanting to show every female body part without clothes covering it. So, yeah, I think you gotta just trust me on this one.
But I’d like to conclude this message to you loyal porno hounds that have made my little magazine one of the most famous magazines in publishing history, not by more explanation of what Permanent Clothes are (everyone will know soon enough) or further specifics about my desire to die under a stapled-down length of carpet (let it sink in, the idea will grow on you), but rather with a big THANK YOU. We did it! We saw all the nude parts of the female body. But that journey is over. Now, it’s time to move on to something new, a mission for someone else. If you need me, you’ll know where to find me…
Lying dead, sealed under a carpet at the Playboy Mansion.