Playboy After Hours
February, 1965
A noteworthy nut, you won't be surprised to learn, has sprung up in the fertile soil of Pasadena, California—that storied stronghold of kooks, cults and lacy little old ladies in tennis shoes. Calling himself the Gladstone Society, and flashing beautifully embossed stationery to prove it, this fun-bent filbert—who prefers to remain anonymous—has been sending out a series of square-seeming letters to a select group of puzzled Southern Californians. Postmarked Pasadena but bearing no return addres...
