Pulitzer winner Jimmy Breslin spent decades covering organized crime in New York City. In The End of the Mob he eulogizes the Mafia. "Who killed the Mob? I blame lona and Boston College," he says. "The Mafia brought in money and then sent the kids away to college--and they never came back. I don't know if I can say the end of it is a good or bad thing, but if I were still working a daily beat, I would probably kill myself."
Hef's unforgettable 79th birthday weekend began with a screening of his favorite film, Casablanca, followed by champagne and caviar by candlelight. The following night was a gala pajama-and-lingerie party with Centerfolds and celebrities toasting the birthday boy.
Model turned actress Christina Lindley has forever been the new kid on the block. "I was always the new girl growing up because my family moved so often. I went to four different high schools," she says. "I relocated to L.A. from Nashville and started acting only a few months ago." She quickly landed the perfect role on the unscripted Fox comedy series about music producer David Foster's family: "I play Christina Lindley, a model-actress in L.A. I'm literally myself on the show." Her film portrayals have been a little more strenuous, but she's in good hands--working with experienced directors Michael Bay on The Island and Nick Cassavetes on the upcoming Alpha Dog. In The Island, Christina (like star Scarlett Johansson) plays a beautiful clone. "In real life I don't like to look like every other girl," she says. "If they're all driving BMWs, I don't want one. I like to be the center of attention whenever possible." She applies the same philosophy to the men in her life. "If a guy doesn't want me, then I don't want him," she says. "I always tell any guy I date, 'If at any point you meet someone you'd rather be with, please, go ahead.' I always do the dumping but in a very nice way. One of the trashiest things you can do as a woman is fight with someone." That doesn't mean Christina can't appreciate a good right cross. "I'm feminine, but I also like boxing, football and violent movies like Fight Club," she says. "It's weird. I have all the characteristics of a tomboy, but I like to dress up and have my hair and nails done. I guess I'm a girly tomboy."
I have a serious problem. I am in love with a great guy, but he has only an average-size penis. I was married to a guy who was eight inches long and seven inches around, which spoiled me, although his size couldn't make up for the fact that he's a jerk. I am having a hard time deciding if I want to give up the pleasure a better-endowed man provides. I also visually enjoy a man with a larger penis. Should I tell my boyfriend that I will need to be with other men and hope he understands? Maybe he'd like to watch. Should I continue to date him but cheat? Or should I just tell him it's not going to work out?--L.D., Dallas, Texas
As a faithful Democrat for more than four score years, I recognize that my argument goes against the national grain. "Winning isn't everything," as Red Sanders, the old football coach, used to say, "it's the only thing." Nor does my argument imply seeking deliberate defeat as an electoral tactic. I worked hard for John Kerry in 2004 and would have rejoiced at his victory. But I derive a certain consolation from the outcome. President Kerry would have inherited nearly insoluble problems created by President Bush's hubris and incompetence.
Would America be better off if prisoners were allowed to have sex with their spouses? Some legislators think so. Under certain conditions, minimum-security inmates in California, Connecticut, Mississippi, New Mexico, New York and Washington are allowed to have private visits with their husband or wife. The restrictions in Mississippi are similar to those elsewhere: Privacy is extended only to inmates who were married before they entered prison and who have no rules violations in the previous six months. The couple must have a marriage license; common-law unions don't count. Inmates with STDs whose spouses are not infected are ineligible. The prison also enforces a time limit (60 minutes) and allows only soap, condoms, tissues, sheets, a pillowcase and two towels. Both husband and wife are searched on the way in and out of the room. There are no candles, no toys and no Sinatra.
From the Transcripts of tribunals held by the federal government to determine if terrorism suspects should be classified as enemy combatants: (1) Omar Rajab Amin (a Kuwaiti and a University of Nebraska grad): Is it possible for me to see the evidence?
On April 9, 1974 the American Psychiatric Association voted to remove homosexuality from its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The moment was a milestone for the gay-rights movement because it meant that homosexuals applying for security clearances, child custody or employment could no longer be considered de facto deviants.
Trainspotting (1996) Role: A pissed-off, hip junkie trying to kick the habit. Risk: A succession of surreal scenes of low-lifes shooting up and vomiting--and of McGregor plunging his head down a filthy toilet--could have plunged his career into the toilet, too. Reward: McGregor makes addiction seem hipper than mindless conformity; critics and audiences saw him as a new symbol of cool.
Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso, former acting boss of the Luchese crime family, is one of the highest-ranking turncoats in the history of the Mob. The typical Mafia canary sings a few notes, drops a name or two and walks away with a new identity and address courtesy of the United States government. Casso, however, presented the Justice Department with a Wagnerian opera: In a series of interviews in 1994, he confessed to complicity in 13 murders and a plot to assassinate a federal judge. He told of his paid informant--a still unnamed mole--deep inside the Federal Bureau of Investigation, as well as a shocking story about two former New York City police detectives who worked for the Mob as hit men and informants. For this "substantial assistance," Casso says, he was promised a reduced sentence and relocation in the Witness Security Program.
Zero. That's how much gets past the two men behind me. We're sitting in a theater in Las Vegas, watching Zumanity, the new bawdy, naughty Cirque du Soleil show. Fifteen minutes into it--which is to say 14 minutes and 59 seconds too late--they finally grasp the essence of the brassy broad acting as MC. Actual dialogue overheard:
Perhaps by night there would be more water, Lusane had thought, believing that the rising moon might draw it down, but there was not. She must climb as high as she did by day, crisscrossing the thin stream at the lower places where people washed themselves and their clothes, and animals wet their muzzles and trampled and pissed, following the spiraling folds of the ravine whose walls grew higher and tighter around her, sometimes cutting off the moon. She sprang from rock to rock in the darkness, her bare feet sure on the rough boulders, until she reached the cleft where water spilled clear across a lip of stone, blushed in the light of the red moon rising. When the vessel was full she set it on the top of her head, her arms just slightly trembling with the effort. The bones of her back lined up one by one from the top of her head to the base of her spine as she straightened her knees to raise the water glittering with the red light of the moon.
An old friend has returned to the National Football League after an absence of a few seasons. Welcome back, franchise quarterback. The Tom Bradys, Peyton Mannings and Donovan McNabbs are again ruling the gridiron. For years the franchise quarterback was predominant in the league. The first 10 Super Bowl-winning teams and 17 of the first 24 were led by future Hall of Fame quarterbacks. If you had a Terry Bradshaw or a Joe Montana in your huddle, you had a stadium full of frenzied fans and a distinct advantage come January. It was more of the same in the 1990s, when future Hall of Famers John Elway, Steve Young, Troy Aikman and Brett Favre combined to win seven consecutive titles.
<p>Tamara Witmer, 21 and gorgeous, is trying on hats in Ensenada, Mexico. She's elegant in the black sombrero, puppy cute in pink. We've been watching her for a couple of years now, since she first returned to her native California from Columbus, Ohio, too young to have a beer in a bar. A photographer sent us pictures of her modeling swimsuits. You may wonder why it took us two years to bring this beauty to your attention. All we can say is that some things are worth waiting for.</p>
I know why I'm a bad poker player. I have no patience and little interest in other people and have never been all that good at math. Unfortunately I really like playing. I like the way each hand is a little lesson in masculinity: You should have had more guts to see it through, more humility to lay it down early, more cool to sucker him in and more bravado to scare him out.
Golf has one thing going for it that no other sport does: a spiritual epicenter, an emerald mecca that inspires awe in anyone who sets foot on it. Pit the greatest players against one another on this hallowed turf, let the cameras roll, and you will have history in the making. This year, golf's most prestigious championship, the British Open (July 14 to 17), returns to the Old Course at St. Andrews, Scotland, where golfers have roamed for six centuries--why, where the very game was invented. While we can't say for sure who will walk off with the Claret Jug, we can take a look back at the most storied venue in all of sports. Take a stroll on the Old Course with us. Sorry, no carts allowed.
Think of it as a secret initiation rite for the exceptionally beautiful. Late on a serene moonlit evening this past spring, Diora Baird and her closest girlfriends came down from the Hollywood Hills to feast their eyes on an image so savagely attractive, so primal in its sexual urgency that it's sinful to think of it as a mere advertisement. "It was my first billboard," she explains, understandably tickled to be towering above the cars on La Cienega Boulevard.
Below is a list of retailers and manufacturers you can contact for information on where to find this month's merchandise. To buy the apparel and equipment shown on pages 38, 41--44, 108--113 and 162--163, check the listings below to find the stores nearest you.
What do you get when you take 14 digital-effects wizards sick of slaving for other people, give them vast amounts of computing power and tell them to be interesting? You get the impossible. You get sneakers that shed skin like a snake and then burst before your eyes. You get dancing cars. You get urban-warrior robots stalking the streets of Somalia. In short, you get the Embassy Visual Effects Inc. The stock-in-trade of this boutique visual-effects house, which was founded two years ago in Vancouver, is television ads that make the impossible look eerily, indisputably real. (The image at right, a still from a Citroën commercial, is 100 percent digital fiction down to the cracks in the pavement.) "As a small firm, we can pick and choose the work we do," says 38-year-old CEO Winston Helgason, who's worked with the likes of MGM and Jerry Bruckheimer. Right now that work is to make image-defining spots for Toyota, Heinz and Nike (whose robot crab soccer game is hard to forget). And while the firm's images are fabricated, its success is real. In May the Embassy walked away with four awards at the Clios, the ad industry's Oscars. See more at theembassyvfx.com--or during a commercial break near you.
One Brit, eight rock bands, 69 minutes of digital video and one nubile American actress are obliterating a century of cinematic sexual conventions. 9 Songs, an unrated film directed by Michael Winterbottom (Welcome to Sarajevo, 24 Hour Party People), chroniclesan affair between an English glaciologist and an American exchange student in London. The film features scenes of real sex, bookended by footage of such bands as Franz Ferdinand and Primal Scream from concerts the couple attends. To make a mainstream film with genuine fellatio, cunnilingus and penetration, you need a female lead who can walk the line between porn and melodrama. Enter Margo Stilley, 22, of South Carolina, where the "rudest film ever," as the British press has dubbed it, is sure to go over big. "It isn't shocking," Stilley told the Guardian. "If you know you're going to watch a film like this, it's not abrasive. It's normal sex that everyone has." Just not on-screen. The untried actress was hoping to be cast as an extra when Winterbottom chose her for the lead. Check her out this month at an art-house theater near you and you'll know why.
Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), August 2005, volume 52, number 8. 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 Canadian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement No. 40035534. Subscriptions: in the U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. Postmaster: Send address change to Playboy, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. For subscription-related questions, call 800-999-4438, or e-mail firstname.lastname@example.org.
Jessica Canseco--You know her as the estranged wife of bash brother and admittedsteroid abuser jose canseco. We know her as the statuesque goddess who dishes about her ex--and hits one out of the park--in a headline-making pictorial. she's grand slammin'!