Jude at The Box
It’s a club in New York. Jude Law was there the other night – he’s been shooting Sherlock Holmes in the city for several weeks now – getting tag teamed by several ladies. And his hair is loving every minute. His hair is so stimulated I can actually see the squiggle growing.
Note the placement of that lady’s hand. I judge the placement of that lady’s hand with one part disdain and one part envy. Disdain because, well, it seems desperate. Envy because, well, I’ve never been a brazen drunk. When I get drunk, all I ever want to do is huddle even closer in a corner with the girls and talk sh-t about people. But I would have been better served single, way back like 85 years ago, when alcohol would have helped the flirt moves. If that were the case, perhaps my crush on Bobby Rhee could have come to something.
He was the most beautiful boy at university. And every weekend we’d hit up the Nac, our small town dance bar, and every weekend I’d be like – I’m totally making out with Bobby Rhee tonight, except at the end of the night, he was making out with someone else and I’d be talking to someone really disgusting.
The point is, this lady, this lady has balls. This lady is going for what she wants with the help of Grey Goose. Photo Assuming Jude’s face, maybe she succeeded.
This is a drunk man assessing his options: her hand is close to my junk. It moved a little. Should I? She has great breasts…
I hope he took her home.
Photos from BIG PICTURES/Bauergriffinonline.com