No! What?! What kind of world do we live in when young idealists can’t get married to each other and caress each other’s 3-foot ballpouches?
Already, the wedding of the century has been called off. Krystal Harris (or is it Crystal? Sorry. My PhD in whoredom proves itself useless at times.) and Hugh Hefner have decided to call off their wedding for reasons that are glaringly obvious. As in, he’s an octogenarian with a crumbling empire, and she’s a delusional blonde who thinks that she’s going to be a singer-songwriter. You could’ve used all that Playboy money to finish a nice album, Crystal, but now you’re going to be struck inside that gigantic retirement boner maze until the paychecks stop coming and Hefner chokes on his delicious cornflakes.
Apparently, the story gets dark. As in, Dr. Phil has his hand in it. Crystal was apparently cheating on Hef with Dr. Phil’s son (Wow. That family must be insane.), and was planning on shopping a tell-all interview for a massive amount of money.
Hey, you know what would’ve gotten you more money than NOT marrying Hugh Hefner? Marrying Hugh Hefner. You are a blonde idiot, Crystal Harris – and that’s why he likes you.