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A Defamer operative, freshly imported to Hollywood and still excited by the celeb-stalking possibilities afforded by a night at the Playboy Mansion, learns the hard way that some nights at Hef's place are more star-studded than others. Her report of an evening with Grotto-monkeys like Robin Leach and TV chef Rocco DiSpirito (not even Hef himself made an appearance) follows:

I got a call from a pal to volunteer last Saturday night at the Playboy Mansion(TM) for a charity event, and saw several celeb-ishes up close and personal. I know this is long; sorry—like I say I'm new in town and shit like the Playboy Mansion still turns me on.
Big name first: Eva Longoria, sitting in the VIP section of the food tent with some NBA players, stroking a couple of adorable puppies that were going up for auction (actual canines, not whatever you were thinking I might mean). Sorry, not a sports fan so I don't know the guys, but they were indeed hott(!). Eva was wearing a white halter dress with coral polka dots, and had so much of the tinycute going on that she was making Hef's adorable Capuchin monkeys jealous. Spotted her kissing on one of the NBAers; they disappeared shortly after but were not in the Grotto to my recollection (spotty at best).

Then there was Robin Leach, a bigger celeb than ever (in the physical sense anyway, god love him), smoking a cigar in the game room and chatting with a half dozen Playmates. Pink shirt, black pants hiked up to his tits. He asked a woman there, a lawyer, was she a "good lawyer," and tapped his heart. They then had a semi-heated discussion about Native American healthcare. The subject turned to books, and when pressed to name a favorite author, he said he had so many favorites he couldn't name any, but finally coughed up Ken Follett. I don't know the author (I can't read), but I asked him to name a title or two and he claimed that the guy had written so many, he couldn't remember any titles. He's got people to remember that stuff for him, I guess. He was offered a tour of the Mansion, but assured us he had "toured the mansion on many occasions." I kept trying to think of something to say to the dude...drew a total blank. Probably for the best. Though he was looking at me like he couldn't think of shit to say, either.
Finally, we have Rocco DiSpirito, that chef from "The Restaurant," hanging also in the game room, dressed in a self-consciously mismatched patterned shirt/tie/jacket and black jeans. Ginormous 3D sculpted belt buckle: eagle in flight, totally comin-at-ya-talon style. We were checking each other out in the earlier part of the evening...I didn't know who he was (still kinda don't). He seemed nonplussed when a well-manicured male guest stepped between us at the bar and "bought" me a free drink. When we were introduced later, he claimed we had already met...I guess ogling passes for an introduction where he comes from. He showed me how to play a very violent Japanese video game which I wish I could play right this minute, and was called away on celeb-chef business. I guess someone told him I wasn't "with the Mansion," because he very pointedly blew me off two hours later in the aforementioned VIP section and headed for a table full of Playmates/Bunnies. Well, if I were a kinda famous chef guy, or any kinda guy at ALL, and I were visiting the Mansion, I'd surely try the signature dish by going for the Hef-Approved beauties (truly, those gals are really too sweet in every way—a couple Bunnies even mentioned they liked my earrings). Fortunately, my evening was saved by a rich-but-(thankfully)-not-famous financier who proposed marriage immediately upon my entering the Grotto.
By the by, Hef never made an appearance, but one of the Playmates said it WAS classic movie night, so, I guess he stayed in (also, date nights are Monday and Wednesday). I did find evidence via a notepad in a drawer (I was looking for a piece of paper, okay?) that he kicked some major ass on his "Space Invaders" pinball game back in 1980—like, 20-plus peoples' asses over the course of that year. I don't know why, but that seemed like one of the awesomest things I saw, in a night full of awesome. Without a doubt, that Hef could give both Eva and the monkeys a serious run for their cute-as-hell money.

Confidential to Hef, I love you, thanks for a great evening, and please don't let my idle gossip prevent a future invitation.

We'll forward the bunny ears directly to our operative when they arrive.