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Jennifer Lawrence doesn't practice applying a filter when she talks, and if it were not for that cute-ish outgoing-like demeanor, one can easily conclude that she's quite crude sometimes. This time, she talks about her sex life.
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Glasses of wine in hand, we head upstairs, and when we walk into the enormous master suite she makes a sweeping gesture toward the bed and says, “This is where the maaagic haaaappens.” Then she shoots me a get-real look. “Literally zero magic has happened in here.” She holds up her glass in a toast: “Cheers to my hymen growing back!”
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She continues:
Suddenly, her phone chimes with the gentle sound of a reminder. Lawrence stares at the screen for a split second and then looks at me. “We have to wrap this up because I have an interview with Jonathan Van Meter.” She laughs. “We blew our dinner reservation. Shall we just stay in and order a pizza?” Sure, I say. “Oh, thank God, I can take off my bra,” which she does right in front of me and then tosses it onto her bed. She texts Talley, trying to find the number of the pizza joint she loves. She orders us a large pie, with pepperoni and jalapeño with ranch dressing on the side (not nearly as bad as it sounds).
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