So much for a night of unbridled debauchery.
Oh, boo-hoo. Just last Wednesday, you were sipping champagne on a G4 with a racing car driver.
Yes, who thinks I'm heir to the Pillsbury fortune. Any guess how long that'll last?
Whatever happened to the nice chef in Lyon with the fabulous silver hair?
Oh, no. He thinks I'm a professional golfer, or banker, I keep forgetting. I got so many lies, I have to store them on my phone.
The lament of the grifter. Who really knows us?
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