You Can Make It Up: Evi And Randy Quaid Are Hollywood Refugees
Randy Quaid stared out over the dusty tennis court and the fetid swimming pool filled with human feces. His permanently furrowed brow seemed to add creases by the day, and this day was no different. A shadow crossed his stormy, bottomless eyes, which continued to take in the horizon. A Bentley on fire. Two private masseurs fighting over a poodle ...
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