So I'm down at the pub a while back when in walks fellow wizard Randalf the Mouth, aptly named due to his unrelenting one way conversational skills and large, pointy
gray grey hat. As we both enjoy the early morning's liquid refreshments, he tells me of the previous workweek's vast account of incredulous and personal events. During the first ten minutes of his story about moving to a new apartment right down the street, my mind wanders and he notices that I have become entranced once again by the eye-catching, shiny, glitter covered, bouncy titties behind the bar. "Speaking of titties," he says "you outta see this huge box of old Playboys I had to lug up the stairs."
Tires screech, my eyes bulge... he continues talking, I interrupt him. "Wait a minute! Huge box of old Playboys?" He then tells me he's got all these old magazines that he doesn't really have a use for anymore, whatever that means. I ask him what decade. Early 90's he tells me. A flood of images rush through my brain, and I think about my old lost copy of Jenny McCarthy's 30 minute Playmate VHS. What bountiful treasures are buried within that box I imagine. "You can have them if you want." o_o! Holy shit. Yes, that would be fantastic, absolutely fantastic. I of course ask the obligatory question any rational perv would ask: "Are the pages all stuck together?" Of course not, he assures me.
These are 24 of the more interesting (and classic) covers... the last two are pretty WTF!? Also, I decided to go with my better judgement and not include the ones with Donald Trump or that chick from Murphy Brown.
Nothin' sticky, they just all smell like cigarettes. Thanks Randalf, and Cheers to you!