This evening I found myself watching the first half of Serendipity, the drippy John Cusack/Kate Beckinsale romance. I've never seen it, but that can't be the reason I found myself flipping back and forth between that and the basketball game tonight.
My working theory? A subliminal hope that, somehow, somewhen, Beckinsale would get naked.
In a PG-13 movie. On TBS.
Yeah, I know, a long shot, but hope has been known to triumph over experience from time to time.
I really wish they would let me visit the lab that created her.
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