I must admit, the only city-specific periodicals I peruse are the ones that contain coupons for chili-cheese fries or ads with dudes bartering guitar lessons for massages, only after midnight, natch. But when I heard L.A. magazine had photos of Kate Beckinsale, hot damn, that’s better than greasy fries or a massage from a dude named Dustin who swears he likes chicks.
Kate Beckinsale is so hot I could read her parking tickets and become aroused. So even a simply hot photoshoot is going to have me in some kind of libidinal spasms for the next eleven to seventeen minutes. Such is her mighty power. Enjoy.