Please excuse us while we go pick up the shattered halves of our hearts. Sure, our chances of cuddling up to Clint Eastwood's son were slim to none, but now it feels rude to even fantasize.
Oh, you don't know who Scott Eastwood is? Crawl out from under the rock, and give those blue eyes a gaze. Kramer's a lucky, lucky gal. Actually, you know what? We're going to hold out for a hero and Eastwood will serve as gratuitous imaginary boyfriend to the stags amongst us...indefinitely. (People)