Everyone who went to the Golden Globes also had to move their asses down to some of the after parties, including the always Globe-licious babe Eva La Rue, glowing golden at the Weinstein Company after party. Is it possible to be happy just to be infatuated with a person for their parts and not really care about what they're like as a whole? I get these ideas stuck in my head whenever I start to mentally dissect a woman who just amazes me but I don't give nary a thought to what her personality might be. Ah, I think too much. Cougar boobs rock!
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