Quick and Dirty

It could be worse. I guess: And by "worse," I mean "Heidi Montag." Today's the day! Kim Kardashian's first single, Jam (Turn It Up), dropped, as they say. It's...you know...Kim Kardashian singing. I'll say this much: It's good to see Kimmie working. You can listen to the song at the link. F-Bomb Café assumes no responsibility for sad eardrums or bruised souls. Enjoy! [PerezHilton]

This is cool. No, really: Holly Madison poses in the upcoming issue of "Life&Style" in a bikini and without retouching (gasp!). Says Holly, "I've always had a butt, and I want to keep it - cellulite and all. I'm not perfect, but I love my curves." Well! How about that? Healthy, normal, and formerly intimate with Hugh Hefner. How often do those 3 go together?! Well done, HMad! [HuffPost]

Until genetics are reversible, this will have to do: Michael Lohan, Jr., brother to Lindsay and son of Michael and Dina, has decided to change his name so as to distance himself from his trainwreck father. For a minute, I thought I smelled some sanity over at camp LiLo and got excited. Alas, the new and improved Michael Cameron plans to introduce his new moniker with the upcoming movie in which he stars -- a movie produced my his batshit mother, Dina. Oh well. Baby, steps, MCam. Baby steps. [TMZ]

Reproductive health: check. Marriage equality: check. The planet: check: Republicans are flying through their to-do list of destruction. After launching full-out assaults on individual rights, the GOP has turned its attention to mother nature. House Republicans have gotten rid of the biodegradable food containers and utensils that Nancy Pelosi brought to the White House and have instead returned to using plastic and styrofoam. That's cool. No use protecting the earth while everything else is going to shit, right? Grrrrr. [Jezebel]

Wherein I Throw Up In My Mouth

"Playboy Mansion outbreak linked to illness that brews in warm water" - a headline from today's Los Angeles Times. It seems that dozens of people who attended an event at the Playboy Mansion have come down with legionellosis, an illness caused by bacteria that grows in warm water. You know, like in heated pools. Or hot tubs. That's right, people: this means there is bacteria at the Playboy Mansion. Bathtubs and bathtubs full of body fluid bacteria. What a shock! And by that I mean, "No duh!" It seems negligent on Hef's part that all visitors aren't treated to a complimentary Silkwood scrub down upon exiting the smut den, but that's just me. Carry on, Bunnies. (Well, once that pesky water-borne infection clears up, anyway.)

Sure You Aren't, Pumpkin

"I'm not jealous that he'd marry someone else. I just don't want it to be a girl who's using him to start her career. Basically, I think he could do better than Crystal." - Holly Madison (the pot), on her ex, Hugh Hefner, and his fiancée, Crystal Harris (the kettle), to Life & Style magazine. And then Holly pushed Crystal into the lockers and threw her English notebook in the trash. Seriously, though, Holly must be burdened with worry. It would be a real heartbreak for all of us if Hef's true and sacred love fell apart. Oh the humanity!

The Original Title Was "TMI" (Replay)

In honor of Hef's recent engagement, here's an oldie but goodie from the F-Bomb Café column files. I present as both a celebration and a plea. Please, Crystal Harris, spare us the details that Kendra never could. Thank you in advance.


Originally published July 6, 2010.

Kendra Wilkinson Baskett is an author. That’s right. She was a stripper. Then she was a Playboy bunny. Then she moved in with Hugh Hefner as the third of his “girlfriends.” Then she was the star of a reality show. Then she was the star of a very personal video. Then she was the star of another reality show. AND NOW SHE’S AN AUTHOR. Sorry to yell, but, come on. Why do reality stars write books? Listen, we already know too much about you from that reality TV show you’re on, okay? There was no reason at all for me to care about Kendra's book. I wasn't planning to read it. I hadn't thought much about it. As far as I was concerned, there was every reason to laugh and scoff at Kendra’s book, but no reason to pay it any mind.

I really wish I hadn’t paid it any mind.

I read a lot of blogs. It’s part of my job. I read, and I write. So when something happens that catches the attention of celebrity bloggers, I usually read about it multiple times. Different writers have different information, and it’s always interesting to get different points of view on an issue or event. Today I read probably five articles about Kendra’s book, Sliding Into Home; evidently she started her press blitz this morning. As a result, today I read, probably five times, Kendra’s very direct description of her first intimate encounter with Hugh Hefner, an experience she shared with a group of girls. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that the story is haunting me. And I'm not haunted by what you might expect. It's not, “Eww, Hef is old and gross and I don’t want to think about that.” I mean, yeah, that, too, but what really gets me is Kendra’s very matter-of-fact description about a group act designed to initiate women into some sort of…job. Right? I mean, that’s what happened, isn’t it? It gets worse when Kendra explains how she decided to “go upstairs to Hef’s room” that day. “It seemed like every other girl was going, and if I didn’t it would be weird,” she writes. Well, Kendra, actually, what’s weird is being intimate with a dozen women and a much older man you’ve just met for a job interview. Kendra wants us to know, though, that where some might see sexual harassment, she saw bliss. "The next morning…I felt special, loved, and pretty. Isn’t that all a girl really wants out of a boyfriend?” she writes. Sure, Kendra. That’s all.

The Hef “party” story is clearly every blogger’s favorite salacious excerpt from Kendra’s tell-all tome, but it only ties for the title of most depressing excerpt. It shares that crown with Kendra’s description of how she went from drug-abusing mess to happy, healthy, confident Kendra. She was saved from a life of abusing herself by…wait for it…stripping! She writes, “For the first time in my life I felt sexy and powerful. I was the top earner in that club. But I thought I’d do even better if I were bigger…I had my dream boobs and business was good!” Dream boobs, people. Dream. Boobs. Once you read this excerpt, the other makes perfect sense, right? I mean, when one’s first experience of being sexy and powerful is working as a stripper, then the most logical career choice is, in fact, concubine.

To be fair, I haven't read the book. But the excerpts scare me. It scares me that the book is being presented as a juicy memoir when it sounds more like a sad story that perpetuates dangerous ideas. Plus, the book's release comes only weeks after Kendra's video scandal died down. On top of the fact that the moral of her story seems to involve prostitution making dreams come true, it's Kendra overkill. It's just too much of one person to be put on public display. It's creepy, people. Think about it.

I’m not saying that Kendra should be ashamed of her past, and I am not asserting that she is a bad person. Kendra, you seem like a nice enough girl, but, come on. Don’t glorify stripping and selling your body. That's not good for anybody. At the very least, spare us the naked Hef stories, okay?

Viva Viagra!

"We were both psychology majors in school, so there was never a dull moment. We always had something to talk about. We go to Vegas and stay at his suite at the Palms, we travel all over, and we've been to Europe. We have movie nights at home with all our friends, and I have a blast with him. He's the one with all the energy!" - Crystal Harris, 24, to People magazine, about falling in love with her 84 year-old fiancé, Hugh Hefner. Ohhhhh, it's because they were both psychology majors, people. Duh. I bet Hef is more of a Freudian and Crystal more of a Jungian, don't you think? Oh, and in case you didn't hear, Hef presented her 3 carat engagement ring inside a Little Mermaid box because, Crystal explains to People, "The Little Mermaid is my favorite movie." Of course it is, Pumpkin. Of course it is.

Love Is A Many Spendored Thing

Former Playmate Izabella St. James has written a memoir in which she divulges details of life inside the Playboy Mansion. You can read excerpts at The Daily Mail, but because I am a giver, I offer my favorite bit:

Every Friday morning we had to go to Hef's room, wait while he picked up all the dog poo off the carpet - and then ask for our allowance: a thousand dollars counted out in crisp hundred-dollar bills from a safe in one of his bookcases. We all hated this process. Hef would always use the occasion to bring up anything he wasn't happy about in the relationship. Most of the complaints were about the lack of harmony among the girlfriends - or your lack of sexual participation in the 'parties' he held in his bedroom.

Wow. That is a really degrading scene. What those girls need is a union. United Famewhore Prostitutes Local 69. I like it.

Heterosexual Marriage Is A Sacred Institution

On Christmas Eve, 84 year-old Hugh Hefner proposed to his 24 year-old girlfriend, Crystal Harris. Hef tweeted the news, adding, "This is the happiest Christmas weekend in memory." Of course, by "Christmas weekend" he means "nausea-inducing example of socialized prostitution." Mazel Tov!