D was speaking with the human resources department at Playboy magazine the other day.
I can't say that he'd make an ideal employee there, because the reason for his call was that he was hopping mad. SOMEBODY must have sold his name to the Playboy people, and big bunches'a boobies on a postcard in the mail were delivered to our home.
"LOOK WHAT I GOT!" an angry D exclaimed upon entering the house. Boing! My eyes were assaulted, my word.
Um, I'm usually not one to point at and discuss other people's body parts, but breasts that big just don't happen naturally. And even if they did (which I doubt), no one could possibly walk down the street with these huge bulbous-y things hanging out. I mean, the postcard was pretty much plain old porn.
Now, I know times are hard (shut up LOL) for the poor pornography sellers, but mailing this stuff ought to be illegal. We have teenage boys in our home that I don't especially want looking at this stuff.
D was more upset that they have his proper NAME and ADDRESS. He wants to know where they got it from. The only thing he did differently lately was to subscribe to Popular Mechanics. He is suspicious that they have sold his name, but they wouldn't admit it during his angry phone call.
I left the house to do some errands with Patrick, but came home two hours later to find a fuming D still on the phone, looking for answers as to who gave them his name and what he can do to have people nevernevernever send that crap to his house. At one point, he was "helpfully" transferred to the Playboy HR department. He's called about every business he could remotely think of connected to this fiasco, including the United States Postal Service. They told him to write, "REFUSED, Return to Sender" on it so that the company would have to pay return postage. Hopefully if enough people do that, they wouldn't mass-market like that. Or maybe they just wanted this angry guy off the phone.
Poor D. He's not alone, though. Do you want to see the offer he received? My blog friend Luke got the same thing. I wonder where they got his name from. Do the honchos at Playboy go, yeah... homeschooling dads... hot new market...
EEEEwww. Ok, I'm ending this post now. Yuck.