Do I even need to write anything?
Despite honoring the star of Little Fockers with a Cecil B. DeMille Award, playing the music on Pacino, and nominating The Tourist as a comedy just so Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie would show up, The 68th Annual Golden Globes still managed to attract 98% of Hollywood last night and no one saw fit to rob their houses. On top of that, Aaron Sorkin won Best Screenplay for basically adapting a book into The Social Network over the entirely original Inception, so excuse me if I want to gloss over the entire event by focusing solely on January Jones’ cleavage parade because it’s not a three-hour long farce. Although I’d still watch if it was even though I can’t seem to separate her from Betty Draper. No, really, I half-expected icicles to shoot out of her nipples on the red carpet which is how I’ve always interpreted the character. A 1960s Jennifer Aniston if you will.