As fascinated as I was by Stacy Jacobson’s fantastic experiences with Playboy and her remarkable ability to make guys “gawk” at her, so much so that the Playboy big-whigs in Chicago “love her,” I felt like it was only a shadow of what would have taken place if I had been selected to take pictures for Playgirl (“Sorry, but this bikini stays on,” Thursday).

I envision it going something like this: first, I’d be asked to take off my socks and shoes, and get comfortable, only to be told that my big toe is far too large – I’ve been asked if I was planning on getting it reduced – and that it wouldn’t fit on the cover which they’d so love to have me on. A number of women have actually cited this as a problem and mentioned to me that they’d love to have me back for a second take, but that the size issue was something they just couldn’t swallow.

Next, they’d ask me to take off my shirt to showcase my masculine figure, which let me tell you has been admired by many top-modeling agencies; in fact, I was offered $1,500 to do commercials for Bowflex ab-machines. As proud as my parents were of these opportunities, I had to remind them my morals were still intact, and that my body was more a marketing tool.

Then, I’d be told my figure was perfect and that they’d love to have me, but I couldn’t take it; I’ve got morals, just like Jacobson. I could never sell my “perfect” body; I’d rather just show it off for girls to gawk at on some beach because that is where, like Stacy, I acquire my self-esteem.

I would appreciate it if The Daily would print articles that have less to do with their writer’s ego and more to do with something of substance – like my massive big toe.

– marc jeker

Weinberg sophomore