Click on image to enlarge.
|
Accidental Playboy: Caught in the Ultimate Male Fantasy [Secure eReader (recommended)/Mobipocket/Microsoft Reader/Adobe]
eBook by Leif Ueland
| |
Regular |
|
 |
|
Club |
| You Pay: |
$18.99 |
|
|
|
$16.14 |
| Micropay Rebate: |
10% |
|
|
|
10% |
| Cost After Rebate: |
$17.09 |
|
|
|
$14.53 |
| You Save: |
10.01% |
|
|
|
23.49% |
eBook Category: People
eBook Description:  Sometime journalist Leif Ueland has hit rock bottom as a straight single male: not only does he not have a girlfriend, but he's also a really nice guy who's visibly uncomfortable in the presence of overt he-manishness. Combine that with no job, money, or decent apartment, and the result is acute insecurity. How, he wonders, can he expect to decode women's sexuality if he can't even understand his own? Then, the opportunity of a lifetime comes along: The world's leading men's magazine needs a Fearless Reporter to travel cross-country for six months on the "Playboy Bus" in search of the Playmate of the Millennium. Dozens of cities. Thousands of women, willing to take it all off for cheesecake immortality. One man, covering it all: Leif, the anti-Hefner, the only son in a family of feminists, who finds himself at the center of a vortex of erotica, sexual harassment, plastic surgery, stripping, and, always, beautiful women. As the cross-country journey progresses and the overwhelming sense of vertigo increases, Leif struggles to figure out what it is to be a heterosexual single guy. Is it being sensitive to women's needs, like his mother and women friends taught him? Is it being a "man's man," full of machismo and meaningless sex? Or can he find some kind of utopian meeting place, preserving a liberal, enlightened sensibility while at the same time giving his libido a "ticket to ride"?
eBook Publisher: Hachette Book Group
Fictionwise Release Date: November 2002
1 Reader Ratings:
|
|
|
|
|
| Great |
Good |
OK |
Poor |
|
| |
Available eBook Formats [Secure eReader (recommended)/Mobipocket/Microsoft Reader/Adobe - What's this?]: SECURE MOBIPOCKET FORMAT [517 KB], SECURE MICROSOFT READER FORMAT [379 KB] - Requires Microsoft Reader 2.1.1 for PCs, or Microsoft Reader 2.2.2 on Pocket PC 2002 handheld devices. Some older Pocket PCs can be upgraded. Learn More., SECURE EREADER (RECOMMENDED) FORMAT [318 KB], SECURE ADOBE READER 7 FORMAT [1.4 MB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [541 KB]
Secure Adobe: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
Microsoft Reader ISBN: 9780759587083
eReader (recommended) ISBN: 9780759547018
Adobe Acrobat Reader ISBN: 9780759597693
MobiPocket Reader ISBN: 9780759570030
 
"Accidental Playboy has it all. At once hysterical and horrific, mind-blowing and miraculous, it's more than a mythic journey, it's a journey in search of a myth. As true a peek into the wet, slavering maw of American Fantasy Land as is likely to be written. A big-hearted, big-breasted, brilliant work of personal journalism."--Jerry Stahl, author of Permanent Midnight
"Who would've thought that a good Midwestern boy could find his soul on the Playboy bus? Leif Ueland does just that, and his sharp and generous prose takes the reader on a raucous, riveting, hilarious, and strangely moving journey through sin and redemption."--Frank Baldwin, author of Jake & Mimi "Leif Ueland has written a charming, candid account of his unexpected role in Playboy's Search for the Millennial Playmate. To call him a fish out of water hardly does him justice; he barely has the self-confidence to read the magazine, let alone labor in its employ. Sharing his cross-country adventures in the rowdy but weirdly hermetic world of the Playboy bus is an eye-opening pleasure."--Erik Tarloff, bestselling author of Face Time "Accidental Playboy is a smart, funny and surprisingly affecting book on the state of relations between the sexes. Leif Ueland's erotic road trip turns into a genuine journey of self discovery."--Harry Stein, Wall Street Journal
Prologue "So," she asks, "do you do this in every city?" "Do what?" I respond, smiling through a piña colada haze. "This," she says, gesturing to the surroundings. "Tell a bunch of women it's your birthday and ask them to come back to your hotel room for a slumber party." "Oh, that." I nod, playing slow. "No, it really is my birthday." But cue 2001: A Space Odyssey theme music, because the most adolescent region of my brain is now piping up, Hey, why didn't I think of that? "Besides," I add, "we couldn't do this in every city. I'd be dead by now." What surrounds us is little less than a circus. My two queen-size beds have been dragged to the middle of the hotel room and pushed together. A long strand of white Christmas lights has been wrapped several times around the beds, which, with the only other light in the room coming from many scattered tea candles, gives the scene a look that is part spaceship, part flying carpet. A candidate dressed in a bright pink baby-doll negligee sits at the center of the bed in front of my computer, struggling with some software glitch so I can resume my "chat" with the diehard readers of my online dispatches. To the side is our Playboy photographer of the moment, Raj, kicked back on the sofa, drink in one hand, camera in the other, as one of the other candidates cavorts in front of him, opening up her pajama top and hiking up her men's boxers. Photos of her randy voguing are being instantly posted online. There's more. Someone ordered pizza, and not only is the delivery person female, but she's feeling yet another candidate's bare breasts, unable to believe they're fake. Meanwhile, a technician from the hotel is stringing telephone cord all over the room, trying to give us a second line so we can have two computers in on the chat, while a second hotel employee is bringing in a birthday cake. Vegas, the tour gofer -- shirt off, puffing on a cigar, eyes the narrow slits of the blindly inebriated -- is standing at an ironing board, blending up a fresh pitcher of piña coladas. Sophia, our excellent PR woman, who has been wearing a ten-minute heat mask for over an hour (and whose skin tomorrow will look amazing, incidentally), keeps shaking her head. "You," she will say to me, "are an evil genius." Did I mention I'm wearing jammies? And here's the disturbing thing: This event, this Fearless Reporter Live Chat Slumber Party Birthday Extravaganza, is all my doing. Even more disturbing: Its creation wasn't prescripted. Rather, the whole spectacle came to me in a vision, the same way at a certain point I'll just know that I must lie on the bed, open my shirt, set a piece of cake -- with burning candle -- on my chest, choreograph fork-wielding women around me, and have the picture recorded for tomorrow's dispatch. These are the sorts of things that are spontaneously arriving in my mind. No sudden epiphanies for the novel I should be writing. No moments of insight into the human condition. No, I'm channeling Bacchus and the night is young. And there's more to come. By the end of the weekend I'll refer to myself as mini-Hefner, or Hef-lite. But this isn't right. This isn't who I'm supposed to be. I'm no evil genius. What the hell has happened to me? Copyright © 2002 by Leif Ueland
|
)
