With Leather editor/patriarch Matt Ufford is in Arizona for Super Bowl festivities.  He will file daily reports from Arizona until at least Monday, February 4th.

The Penthouse party was built for the ogling, not meeting, of girls.  Held at the sprawling Venue of Scottsdale, it was an array of ass: fishnets, knee-highs, spandex, cleavage… especially cleavage.  And, for better or worse, they were all paid to be there.

From the bartenders to the cocktail waitresses to the booty dancers to the Penthouse Pets milling around in evening wear, you couldn't turn around without launching into another X-rated fantasy, and since the invited guests were almost all men, there were probably more dirty thoughts at the Venue on Saturday night than at a prison screening of Wild Things.  It makes for a different dynamic than the ESPN or Maxim parties, where the hot girls are actually guests; the Penthouse party has more of a strip club feel, where you're encouraged to sit back and eye-fuck 'til your heart — or something — is content.

And I'm okay with that.  Especially if there's free food and free booze along the way. 

Anyway, I'll get to linking to NSFW galleries of the Pets in a moment, but first, a few details.

There were craps and roulette tables in the back.  You couldn't play for real money because America has a bunch of super-gay laws about letting me gamble where I please, but Agent Steinz didn't know how to play craps, so as the reigning champion in the World Series of Dice, I had to teach him.  Granted, gambling for chips that count for nothing is a lot like drinking non-alcoholic beer: you're just going through the motions and there's no real pleasure to be had.  However, what it is good for is appearing learned and teaching the attractive women at the table how to play.  And if I know anything about women, it's that they respect a man who's really passionate about gambling.

A few Jack and Cokes later, the non-dancing-girl entertainment began.  Artist David Garibaldi went onstage and painted portraits of Beyonce, Marilyn Monroe, Mick Jagger, and Snoop Dogg while dancing around to related music (see his YouTube page for more).  My first thought was, "Wow, that's really cool."  My second thought was, "Holy crap, this guy must get more ass than he knows what to do with."  Acting like a rock star on stage while painting?  All he needs to do is a find a way to finish his set by making women think of their fathers, and it would be the perfect storm.

Yadda yadda, more drinks, and Snoop Dogg finally gets onstage.  He's a great performer, but something definitely felt amiss.  Then I looked into the crowd, and it was a whole bunch of whiteys.  Don't get me wrong, I think white people are great, I just felt wrong standing with a crowd of them watching Snoop.  So I wandered to the small upstairs area for the first tie all night.  And holy crap!  All new hot girls!  Hooray!  (Note: This is also where the VIP-ish section was.  Willie McGinest was up there hitting on a petite blonde, and I ended up in his little circle of people after getting another drink.  I introduced myself, and he blatantly gave me a fake name.  Dude, I KNOW you're Willie McGinest.)

So, that was the night.  Drunken, ogle-riffic fun.  A final note on the Pets: even though you can can see them naked all over the Internet, they are somehow more alluring wearing clothes and in person.  It's like, "Wow, she's gorgeous, AND I know what's going on under there."  And in case you don't know what I'm talking about, you can click on any of these NSFW links: Jamie Lynn was in a distracting low-cut blue dress with generous decolletage, Heather Vandeven's dress barely covered her ass, and petite Krista Ayne was packed into a short strapless number that was, um, distracting.  No one, however, looked quite as good as Justine Jolie, who had a bob haircut that showed off the tattoo on the back of her neck and a dress that was shorter than Heather's.  Oh, and just for posterity: here's Justine and Heather naked on the sybian together on Howard Stern.