Hugh Hefner is not a happy man. Is it because he sincerely thought Crystal Harris was his true love and there was genuine shock and misery at her jilting him at the altar, before going on to say nasty things about his prowess in the bedroom?
Or is it because his male pride is taking an absolute hammering?
Whatever it is, he’s not about to start taking insults from an air-head like that! No way! So is he coming out fighting and saying that she has unsightly moles on her mons or that she actually has a dozen teats down her stomach like some pig in a boob tube? Of course he isn’t. He’s pointed at his chap and saying ‘Yeah? I totally do sex with it all the time. Like, a million times a day. And all the women can’t walk properly. After I’ve had sex with them I mean. I’m not using my wonder wand on people in wheelchairs. Although I would because I’ve got no problem with them. Can I have a lie down now? A normal one, not a sex one. Thanks. I get ever so tired.’