Filled with classic cartoons, hilarious party jokes, side-splitting stories and humorous interviews with golfing greats, Fore Play captures the essence of what readers love about Playboy's skewed look at this popular sport. Illustrations throughout, 50 in color.

John Kennedy Jr.’s creative director for George magazine presents “a vivid portrait of JFK Jr. that only a select few have ever seen, offering a touching and honest tribute to John’s legacy” (BookReporter.com). If George magazine was about “not just politics as usual,” a day at the office with John F. Kennedy Jr. was not just business as usual. John handpicked Creative Director Matt Berman to bring his vision for a new political magazine to life. Through marathon nights leading up to George’s launch; extraordinary meetings with celebrities including Barbra Streisand, Robert De Niro, and Demi Moore; and jokes at each other’s expense, Matt developed a wonderfully collaborative and fun-loving relationship with America’s favorite son. They were an unlikely team: the poised, charismatic scion of a beloved political family and the shy, self-deprecating, artistic kid. Yet they became close friends and confidants. In this warm, funny, and intimate book, Matt remembers his brilliant friend and colleague—John’s approach to work, life, and fame, and most of all, his ease and grace, which charmed those around him. More than any book before it, JFK Jr., George, & Me reveals the friendly, witty, down-to-earth guy the paparazzi could never capture. Matt opens the doors of John’s messy office to share previously untold stories, personal notes, and never-before-seen photos from the trenches of a startup magazine that was the brainchild of a superstar. John helped Matt navigate a world filled with celebrities, artists, beauty, style, competition, and stunningly tender egos. In turn, Matt shares the invaluable lessons about business and life that he learned from John. What emerges is a portrait of JFK Jr. as a true friend and mentor.

In this series of hilarious confessions by "New Jersey's answer to Nick Hornby," learn how apologizing and coming to terms with past embarrassments can lead to compassion and maturity (Jonathan Mahler). Dave Bry is sorry. Very sorry. He's sorry to Wendy Metzger for singing the last verse of "Stairway to Heaven" into her ear while slow dancing in junior high school. He's sorry to Judy and Michael Gailhouse for letting their children watch The Amityville Horror when he babysat them. And he's sorry--especially, truly--that he didn't hear his cancer-ridden father call out for help one fateful afternoon. Things are different now. Dave's become a dad, too, and he's discovered a new compassion for the complicated man who raised him. And maybe if his 17-year-old self could meet his current self, he'd think twice before throwing beer cans on Jon Bon Jovi's lawn. Dave's apologies are at turns hysterically funny and profoundly moving, ultimately adding up to a deeply human, poignant and likable portrait of a man trying to come to grips with his past.

When LeRoy Neiman and Hugh Hefner met in the early 1950s, while Neiman was doing women's high fashion drawings and Hefner was a copywriter in a Chicago department store, neither could have predicted that a twelve-inch woman called Femlin was waiting in the wings. But Femlin is mischievous. She's spunky. And she knows how to strike while the iron is hot. Fifty years later, Femlin is still going strong and sassy. Neiman has drawn her for every issue of Playboy for the last half-century, showing her at play, at sport, and at her ease.

At one gilded moment in history, his fame was so great that he was known the world over by his nickname alone: Rubi. Pop songs were written about him. Women whom he had never met offered to leave their husbands for him. He had an eye for feminine beauty, particularly when it came with great wealth: Barbara Hutton, Doris Duke, Eva Perón, and Zsa Zsa Gabor. But he was a man's man as well, polo player and race-car driver, chumming around with the likes of Joe Kennedy, Frank Sinatra, Oleg Cassini, Aly Khan, and King Farouk. He was also a jewel thief, and an intimate of one of the world's most bloodthirsty dictators. And when he died at the age of fifty-six—wrapping his sports car around a tree in the Bois de Boulogne—a glamorous era of white dinner jackets at El Morocco and celebrity for its own sake died along with him. He was one of a kind, the last of his breed. And in The Last Playboy, author Shawn Levy brings the giddy, hedonistic, and utterly remarkable story of Porfirio Rubirosa to glorious Technicolor life.