This is just like when Titanic won like eight dozen Oscars (which made me cry for the romance all over again). Rosie Huntington-Whitelely is just eating up the hotness awards this Spring season like nobody's business. For the small minority out there who think she's overrated, this is probably eating you up on the insides like the citric acid in the eight Red Bulls I consume each day. But, for most of us, we can revel in the sextastic sunshine of RHW, who dolls up to a fare-thee-well, and who we can only routinely imagine undresses rather nicely as well.
Last night's Glamour Awards in London (and, again, WhereTheEff was my invite?) exhibited not only the decked out brilliance of RHW, but hourglasstastic Kim Kardashian got herself boob-jacked onto the Glamour stage, along with Kristen Stewart, who hates the world and hates herself for being beautiful in it, Una Healy, representing The Saturdays who all looked pretty damn hot, and Daisy Lowe, who I still mostly lust for her rack and her amazing backstory. All in all, a wonderful night to celebrate men's lust-hate relationship with women's clothing. Enjoy.