Because as of this very minute, my goal was to make my dad most popular deaf inmate in the history of attempted murderers in Cell Block 9 of the Estelle Unit of the Huntsville Texas State Penitentiary by getting him a personalized autographed photo of the cover of the 2006 Penthouse Pet of the Year issue at the very party at which she was anointed the best of all pets for the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Six.
And I did it.
That dude owes me.
The above was published on my personal weblog on November 29, 2005. After typing that entry, I carefully removed the cover from the magazine and scanned it to my computer just in case it was destroyed in transit or by the prison mailroom should it be deemed indecent. (Pornography is not allowed in Texas prisons.) Much to my (and my dad's?) delight, he received it intact. In his last letter to me dated January 9th, he had this to say:
Nope, I am not on the cover and I can safely say I never will be, but that is me posing next to the giant version of it the same night.
Just this week I was invited to the Penthouse Super Bowl party in Detroit and, now that my cherry of shyness at approaching scantily clad girls has been popped, I was ready to hop on a plane to get better photos, more autographs and extra paraphernalia to send Dad for his viewing pleasure and, perhaps, to make a pretty penny.
The barter and commerce system on the inside is just how you imagine it to be from the movies. A sexy picture - nay, a personalized sexy picture - has got to be worth something, yes?
An oatmeal pie? A 39 cent stamp? A really sharp nail file?