Hugh Hefner hits the skids

Every day, as I go about my repetitive and predictable routine of work, eat, home, sleep, work...
I spare a moment to think about what Hugh Hefner is doing at this particular moment.

You might not know it dear reader, but Hugh Hefner is somebody whom I admire. After all, very few people manage to make their lives heaven on earth, and live to a ripe old age to gloat about it.

If I believed in re-incarnation, I would honestly desire nothing more than to return as a Hugh Hefner, living my life in the mansion, strolling around in my PJ's surrounded by centerfold bunnies at every turn, not a worry in the world other than which one to bed next...

Newsflash...

I'm absolutely devastated to read Hugh Hefner is selling his mansion.
Yes, the world financial crisis has hit the man hard, damn hard.
In fact it's destroyed my faith in hedonism as a religion.
What hope is there, what dream is left for me to dream if even Hugh Hefner has problems of financial nature?
Me worrying about cash flow is normal. Me worrying about imminent loss of my house is just life. But when Hugh has the same problems then it just makes me wonder, maybe God doesn't exist after all.