Hugh Hefner, 84, snuggled up with Jaime Pressly for his birthday party at Moon nightclub Saturday night.
Which reminds me: I'm proud to say Jaime Pressly once cussed me out after asking her a question, when I was the TV critic at the Chicago Sun-Times.
We were both at a party in Pasadena. She was there to promote “My Name Is Earl.” So her agenda included doing interviews with the media. I went up to her and asked one simple question:
Since she’s from the South -- and I'm from the South -- did she ever play the “trailer-trash game” with friends, to figure out who’s the trashiest person at the party?
Pressly said she and her friends used to joke that you knew you were a redneck if you sit in your lawn chair in a garage and use iodine and baby oil to get a tan: “And we say, ‘Honey, that ain’t a tan. That’s iodine, and that is not healthy.'”
She was funny, just like on her show. Then, another reporter started asking Pressly about her clothing line, and that was that. We said thanks. I walked a few feet away.
But within one minute later, I got trapped in a cluster by a bunch of party people standing around. Coincidentally, Pressly walked up right behind me and I could hear her begin to scream at her handler, so I turned around to witness this meltdown where she ripped into the media at the party:
“Don’t you ever leave me with those [MFers] again! Those [MFers] ask me the same [f’ing] questions!”
After about 30 seconds, she turned around and saw me and started backtracking, explaining she wasn’t talking about me; she was talking about the reporter who asked about her clothing line and other questions. She liked my question, she claimed, because it broke up the monotony.
I said: Don’t worry about it. We smiled. Ha-ha-ha, aren’t we all sophisticated?
I still like Jaime Pressly. Maybe because she’s actually quite talented. Or maybe her ire really was directed at some other journalist. I don’t know. But she’s a firecracker, that one.
Below: Hugh with Crystal Harris. He ate at N9NE with *girlfriend* Harris, plus some Playmates and Palms owner George Maloof, and checked into Playboy Club. (Courtesy photos by Denise Truscello/WireImage.)