Everyone shares in that moment when you look around and wonder what the fuck you’re doing for a living. For fifty clams and a Glad half-gallon bag of unsorted hair from the SuperCuts recycling bin, Frenchy Morgan welcomed in the New Year with her signature victim of fraternity house gang rape look. Shuffling papers doesn’t seem all that bad now. Happy New Year back at you, Frenchy. Next time insist on non-permanent markers. If I look you up on Wikipedia then the terrorists have won.
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