The lovely lady on the end of the line is April 2012 Playboy Playmate Raquel Pomplun, recently named Playmate of the Year; one of the perks of the job is to get to wheel around in a hot car, in this case a brand-spanking-new Jaguar F-Type. (This is the second type I’ve had occasion to mention the F-Type in connection with an, um, interesting-looking female; the first was a short promotional film complete with promotional music video. The operative word here, evidently, is “promotional.”) I note for record that of the 54 women so far officially designated Playmate of the Year — the first was Ellen Stratton, Miss December 1959, later PMOY 1960 — no fewer than seven came from April issues, including, for some reason, three of the last four. This doesn’t matter to you, and it probably doesn’t matter to Hef, but as a thirty-year subscriber to the magazine, I’ve made my own prediction for PMOY every spring, and every single year I’ve been wrong. (Ten PMOYs so far have come from December, but only one from June or July. I defy anyone to explain that distribution. Inevitably, Wikipedia has the complete list.) There exists a stereotype of long standing, which I may or may not have taken into account, to the effect that the PMOY winner tends to be a twenty-year-old top-heavy blonde; however, Raquel is 25, not blonde, and reported as a B-cup. Incidentally, she reports that she had a 103-degree fever during her PMOY photoshoot, but, as the phrase goes, the show must go on.
Oh, and here’s an earlier shot, still on the modest side, just because:
I am not, I hasten to add, complaining in any way about this selection, except to the extent that it continues my Streak O’ Futility.