Last night I thought of my previous entry on the moronic articles written about Playmates, and dug out an issue of Playboy to actually read the Playmate article. (For scientific purposes, you understand.) I didn't read the article because I found myself distracted by the photos. Oddly, I began to wonder what this extraordinarily beautiful (and extraordinarily naked) woman looked like with her clothes on. Is this a sign of maturity? Or am just not getting enough oxygen to my addled brain?