Cause admit it, you can’t get enough. Here’s a choice nugget from a (yet another) feature/takedown of one Lenny Dykstra, this one written by a NY Post photo editor who went to work overseeing production of the fraudster’s ill-fated mag:
The strangest part of working at The Players Club, though, is Lenny’s adolescent antics. Editorial “brainstorming sessions,” fueled by Coca-Cola and ice cream sundaes, typically last until dawn. But this does not mean things are getting done. Most meetings are simply extended hang-out sessions, with Lenny cracking up at his own jokes or asking us to watch the Real Sports segment over and over, especially the moment where Lenny points to his seat on his private plane and says, “This is where the Big Man sits.” He also seems to relish letting go a long, leisurely fart for the amusement of his employees or showing off his silk tie and saying, “You see this tie? I paid $500 for it” as he rubs it on his crotch and laughs at our embarrassed expressions.
The article is titled “You Think Your Job Sucks? Try Working for Lenny Dykstra.” http://men.style.com/gq/features/landing?id=content_8558. The energy Dykstra expends on leading a lifestyle that’s way beyond his means is almost exhausting just to read. I always thought the main benefit of money — real money — is the accessibility. To things, people and places. The idea is that life has suddenly become vastly easier…and the distance between what you want or maybe need has become no further than your thumb and middle finger (snap). Lenny tries so damn hard just to keep up appearances…it’s like his life is about trying to stretch a double into an inside-the-park home run. His head’s down as he’s furiously churning around the bases, oblivious to the fact that the catcher is holding the ball, patiently waiting for Lenny to slide into his tag.