I had the pleasure of meeting him, back in 2010, when I had a unique assignment that involved recording celebrity’s voices for the Vancouver Winter Olympics.
I recapped it in my blog. It’s kinda dated, so here are a few helpful notes:
- The Jonas Brothers were a celibate boy-band
- I also recorded Paris Hilton in her home, which featured every magazine cover on which she’d ever appeared framed on her dark blue walls, plus a stripper pole in her bedroom
- The soon-to-be shitcanned football coach of Texas Tech had locked a player complaining of concussion symptoms in a storage shed to avoid harmful sunlight
- David Copperfield was a magician/my shameful doppelganger
Here’s what I wrote:
On the barometer of sexual appetite, I’m not quite a Tiger Woods, but I’m no Jonas brother either, so getting inside the Playboy Mansion (most people, even partygoers, must remain outside) was once in a lifetime… When you pull up to the place, there are lots of horny creeps getting their pictures taken by the front gate… The mansion makes Paris Hilton’s house look like a Texas Tech storage shed… Hef was in his trademark PJs, always ready for bed… He smells good… Lots of squawking from his pet peacocks outside the window… One of his twin girlfriend’s dogs took a liking to me, then left a present in the library. The butler had to clean it up… Got a tour of the grotto – some pretty mod fixtures, including an old rotary phone… Had my first paparazzi pic taken, exiting the gates. I wonder if it’ll be misreported as David Copperfield leaving the mansion.
