I don’t buy Playgirl, but I sometimes get offers for free issues so I go ahead and take them. Good-looking naked men are good-looking naked men, regardless of who the providers of said naked men are pretending to market to. The models are shown fully erect and have been for at least the last several years. There’s also “erotic” fiction, which I skip, letters to the editor, advice columnists, a celebrity interview or two and lots and lots of ads for hardcore gay male pornography.
Oh, I have to amend my first sentence slightly. I do sometimes buy Playgirl, but only when someone I know is a model. Which, oddly, happens more often than you’d think. I’m always amused by the phony answers the magazine makes up for its model Q&As when I know the men involved would never say anything of the sort on the topic of pleasuring women (what with their being gay and all).
Well, you know, there’s an easy way to fix that without spending a lot of money (or, heck, any money). Just start a thread asking male Dopers to email you nekkid pictures of themselves.
I’ve had a subscription ever since I got my own place, so I think it’s cool. Such a cliche, but it really is an enjoyable read.
As for Playgirl, the only issue I’ve ever seen made the rounds on the bus ride to Washington DC on our eighth grade class trip. This would have been back in 1990 or so. One of the teacher’s daughter was a chaparone, and it was an 18th birthday present to her from her mother. It was *very * dogeared by the end of the trip. It’s funny, I can’t recall any of the pictures now, but I can still remember in detail a story in the “dear playgirl” section involving mashed potatoes, a demanding husband and a submissive wife. It was my first exposure to porn outside of Playboy or the Joy of Sex books, which are very non-explicit of course, and I think it really helped helped shaped my current porn preferences. Must have got me at just the right age, heh.
Well, if Playgirl is as boring as Playboy, then I’d be just as surprised that anyone looks at it. Airbrushed and artsy-fartsy ain’t my idea of erotic. But to each his or her own, I quess.
Playgirl’s circulation was around 500,000 copies in the late 1990s. By 2002, however, that number had dropped to 350,000. In contrast, Playboy’s circulation is a bit over 3 million in the US and around 4.5 million worldwide, and is described as “stable” (all links are work-safe).
I don’t know how rigorously checked these numbers are or how long Ms. Zipp has held her post at Playgirl, but it’s plausible to argue that she was sacked for lack of performance rather than political leanings.
One of my roommates had a couple of copies of Playgirl, stored, amusingly, in a brown paper bag. She also had an amusingly tacky porn DVD that made us giggly, not horny. The guys in the magazine were rather handsome, but the vapid expressions on their faces cracked me up. I do not remember if the models were hard or not. Maybe I’m just not that interested in dicks, who knows?
Give me a guy in a t-shirt and jeans that really fit him (neither too tight or too loose), though, and lock the door behind you when you leave.
Oh, well, that explains your reaction to the pic I sent you then. Whew! I thought it was because I was hideous, or something. Not that I haven’t gotten worse reactions from people encountering my nekkidness.
I’ve had a Playgirl subscription for the past couple of years. Many of the guys pictured are hard, which is one of the reasons I subscribed: I definitely have a thing for looking at erections, be they live or Memorex. A hard man is, indeed, good to find.
I used to like the erotica, too, but it’s gone downhill lately … as has the rest of the mag, in my opinion. The recent overhaul of the look/content is horrible, and I plan to let my subscription lapse this time around. (No more Angry Frank. Hmph. :mad: ) I have, however, kept every issue I’ve gotten, and will continue to keep them around for, um, “reference.”
I’m just ribbin’ ya. Like a lot of males, I get insecure when I show a woman the “goods” and she’s not awestruck. Of course, it doesn’t help that when I unveiled Mr. Happy for one female, she promptly ran to the bathroom and puked. That does wonders for your self-esteem, let me tell you.
For the record, my reaction is generally not awestruck. If I’m going to be awestruck, then I’m not letting that thing in bed with me. I’m more like, “Cool. Let’s get to it.”
