Nothing in this world is sacred. Marge Simpson will be appearing — naked — on the cover of Playboy in November, ostensibly because they need something equally two-dimensional to compete with Levi Johston in Playgirl. I kid, I kid. It’s to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the Simpsons, which makes me feel very old, because I remember, as a child, snubbing my nose at everyone and declaring “Don’t have a cow, man,” and sometimes I still get the urge to say it, even though Bart Simpson doesn’t even say it any more. Like when my best friend’s yelling at me because I forgot her birthday, or my boss is calling me into his office because traffic’s down, or some dude is running around my bedroom cussing because the condom broke, I just want to be like, “Sheesh, don’t have a cow, dude.” And then I remember that, at 27 years old, it is not appropriate to say that. So instead I’m like “I swear I left you a voicemail!” or “I’ll research Google’s algorithm changes!” or “I’ll totally go on the Pill tomorrow!”

What was my point here? Oh, yeah, Marge is going whole-hog naked for Playboy. She’ll have a three-page spread and data sheet in the magazine. But, don’t worry, the issue will also have an actual human Playmate inside, so that young women everywhere will have a normal female body to use as a role model. Wouldn’t want them getting insecure with Marge’s perfect cartoon curves.

Anyway. I don’t know why, but I made a poll. I think it’s funny. You can take it if you want.

Congratulations to Sara Jean Underwood, who has just been named Playmate of the Year for 2007.

I remember the episode of Girls Next Door when Sara was out in LA (from Oregon) for her test shoot and Kendra dragged the poor frightened little animal to a batting cage, where she was tragically out of her element. Kendra was all like, “Here let me show you how to hit it,” and Sara was just like, “Um, why don’t I just sit here and watch you?” It was pretty funny. She seemed very sweet, unassuming and girl-next-door beautiful.

Check out Sara’s MySpace page here, where you can learn that her parents are her best friends, she hates sushi, she can’t spell “McDonalds” and she’s not telling you anything about her drug use.

Nudy pics of Sara after the jump.

Want more?

Be sure to check out our nip slip gallery and our upskirt/labia slip gallery.

I was driving around the city this morning, flipping through the radio stations, when a convo on Star 98.7 caught my attention. The woman being interviewed was Izabella St. James, a former live-in girlfriend of Hugh Hefner. Apparently she’s authored a tell-all, Bunny Tales: Behind Closed Doors at the Playboy Mansion. Her interview implied that perhaps — shocker! — life as one of Hef’s girlfriend’s isn’t all fast cars, fancy clothes and mind-blowing sex. She implied that Hef is possessive and controlling — the girls have a 9 pm curfew, and when they’re out in public they are always followed by guards, even to the bathroom, to insure they’re not messing around on the side (she said most of them are anyway) — she implied that Hef’s oldest son is gay and basically confirmed that his current #1 girl Holly is every bit the insane Hef-pleasing zombie she appears to be on Girls Next Door.

I’ll be picking up this book this weekend and will have any and all wonderfully juicy tidbits for you next week.

If anyone can find a link to the transcript of the STAR 98.7 interview (it aired around 8:30 am today), please send it my way.

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• Kendra Wilkinson, Hugh Hefner’s adorable and beautiful girlfriend (no joke! I love her! I love all of them!), was super psyched to appear in her first rap video (okay that’s where my connection with her begins to fade), but her day was ruined when Eminem poured a bottle of water all over her. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to this story, but Kendra is so much fun to watch on Girls Next Door, and she seems like a genuine, sweet person, so I’m just going to link you to the email she sent to MediaTakeOut and let you draw your own conclusions.
• Paris Hilton’s rookie album sells a mere 75,000 copies in its first week, and projections put it at 30,000 for next week. I’ve made a chart:

  

  Are you familiar with the term “asymptote,” Paris? I wrote some code to calculate when, at this rate, your album would go platinum, and it slowed down processing on my computer for a solid five minutes before I stopped it. For comparison, Mrs. Jordan Bratman’s album debuted this week and sold 320,000 copies. Industry-speak for this sort of thing is “flop.” Nicole Richie plans to celebrate by eating the other half of that apple slice.

• John Mayer and Jessica Simpson? I’m concerned; I always end up rolling my eyes whenever I hear either of them speak. This could make me really dizzy.
• How cute are Jim Carrey and Jenny McCarthy? Sooooo cute.