Staring at Scarlett Johansson’s impossible rack in this months Allure magazine is like going on a journey where dreams are not only encouraged, they come true. The only bad news is that I have no idea how I'm gonna buy an Allure magazine with out looking like a total homo. Those magazines are so conspicuous. You might as well try to sneak up to the counter with a clown on a donkey. But it's still totally worth it. I stared at Scarletts chest for about 20 minutes and the next thing I remember I was walking next to a waterfall while a winged lion told me I could do it if I just believe. True story.
(higher-res version of the only one that matters here.)