Were it not for Hef, there would be no George Hamilton. Without George Hamilton, there is no Dirk Benedict. Without Dirk Benedict, there is no VodkaPundit. I stand — recline, actually — at the end of a proud line of very lazy men with great tans and little sense of propriety. It’s obviously a downhill slope from Hef to here, but what the hell.


And anyway, that’s not the point.

The point is, Pej got to party with the Ur-VodkaPundit. Sir Hugh. Mr. Hefner. Hef.

I salute you, Pejman.

Unless, of couse, you failed to get any phone numbers.


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