As a sex obsessed 12 year old, I would sneak down into the living room late at night and watch Playboy after Dark with the sound so low I had to put my ear to the speaker. I never did understood what the hell they were talking about...and still don't. I learned to just mute it and watch.
Barbi always on the couch next to Hef and a room full of -- what must'a been -- a major suck-up convention. Still, I thought it was the ultimate in sophistication. Years later it doesn't hold up at all. But dig those opening credits. That Mercedes 600 Limo. The overhead shot of what looks like Lake Shore Drive and that piano music that begs you to shake something with ice and pour it neat with an olive. Playboy got me young and I bought into the lie that being a man was nothing more than smoking, drinking and sex. I guess if you're gonna buy into a lie...it ain't a bad one.