By staff writer Nathan DeGraaf

Playboy’s throwing a Super Bowl party. It’s the 9th year in a row they’ve done it. I’ve never been to one. I’ll probably never go to one. But Laurie Laird and Michael are going. Now, you don’t know who they are. After reading this though, you will. That’s how interviews work I’ve been told (this is my first one).

Laurie Laird and Michael Knudten are Playboy U reps. A lot of college students across the country are Playboy U reps. The job mainly consists of promoting Playboy events, subscriptions, videos, calendars, helping with charity events, etc. But it’s for Playboy, so it’s way more awesome than promoting Citibank events. But I digress.

Laurie Laird and Michael Knudten are two of the luckiest Playboy U reps in the country. You see, this Saturday, while you and I are enjoying hot, Astroglide-covered sex with our significant others and/or hands, Michael and Laurie will be at the Playboy Super Saturday Night Party, hosted by Common and featuring Hugh Heffner and roughly 5,000 Playmates (source: guess). I got in touch with the two college seniors and asked them a few questions about why I wasn’t invited and no one loves me.

First, I spoke with Laurie Laird, one of the first female Playboy U reps, which proves (to me at least) that bisexuality was more than just a phase some chicks went through in college.


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If I had to guess, I'd say Laurie is one of those social butterflies who skipped the whole “caterpillar phase.”

Laurie is 5’3” and a muscular 120 pounds. She’s a boxer and an Arizona native. At one point in our conversation, she said that she could kick my ass. I think I could take her, but hopefully we’ll never have to find out.

Laurie had to invite 25 of her closest female friends to the Playboy Party. I asked her what kind of criteria she used to determine which of her 25 friends from the University of Arizona would get to climb aboard the Playboy Bus and make the 90-minute trip to Phoenix.

“I searched for girls that were a lot like myself. They had to have personality and be social butterflies. I didn’t want to bring girls who wouldn’t add to the atmosphere.”

Laurie later added, “I picked girls that like to have a good time, but not the ones that party too hard. Playboy is classy, and certain behaviors are not, so I chose accordingly.”

I mentioned some disgusting behaviors and she declined to comment. I asked her if she chose any fat chicks and she declined to comment.

“My girlfriends, like Playboy,” she said, “are classy and sassy.”

I think that’s girl-code for, “I ain’t friends with no fat chicks.” But what do I know?

After hanging up with the outgoing, attractive, bubbly, and career-minded Ms. Laird, I then put a call in to Michael Knudten (pronounced “Newton”), who got to pick 25 females of his own to go to the Playboy Super Bowl Party.

It took me all of two minutes into our conversation before I called him an asshole. It would become a theme.


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Michael consoles two of the girls who didn't quite make it into his top 25. Maybe next time, fuglies.

Michael, like Laurie, is a business major. Also, like Laurie, he is graduating in December of ’08. Unlike Laurie though, he’ll be the lone guy on a bus with over 50 hot chicks on it.

“How’s that feel?” I asked him.

“It feels great,” he said.

“You know you’re an asshole?”

“I’ve gotten that,” he replied calmly and suavely, like someone who was used to having people explain to him that they hated him because of his good fortune.

I hated him because of his good fortune.

“Now,” I said, “when you decided to pick the girls to go, how did you do it? ‘Cause if it were me I would have walked around grabbing women like produce trying to decide if Emmit Smith and Deion Sanders would find the bitches worthwhile.”

“Hahaha, no, I didn’t do that. I mean, I can’t lie. This is Playboy so I had to make sure the girls had some talent, and I know just about every sorority girl on campus so I did try to have some fun with it.”

“What is the big deal with you and Laurie? Why can’t you just say that you refused the fatties? I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like the magazine ever showcases fat chicks. Am I right?”

“Hmmm…” he said. “Good point.”

Wisely, he did not elaborate.

“So,” I asked, “of these 50 chicks, how many have you banged?”

“I’d have to be pretty stupid to answer that,” he said.

“You’re an asshole,” I reminded him.

Before the Super Bowl party, Michael will be attending a golf event. Golf puts me to sleep but Michael assured me that this was one of the most jamming parties annually in the AZ (my brother Jay went to U of A so I can call Arizona the AZ if I like).

I told him to have a good weekend and then laughed.

Of course he’ll have a good weekend. He’s going to the Playboy Super Bowl Party on a bus with 50 chicks who, while very hot, probably won’t even compare to the ones already at the fucking party.

Meanwhile, this weekend I’m thinking about going to the beach and maybe drinking a rum runner and doing my best not to cry.

My father told me once that you shouldn’t hate someone for anything more than their lack of character. As far as I can tell, Michael Knudten does not lack character.

But I still hate him.

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